Convenient Proposal to the Lady Page 16

  Scoured with anger and pity for what she’d endured, he held out his arms and, to his relief, she came into them. ‘You hear ghosts of the demon who beat you and starved you and locked you in the dark?’ Ben asked, fury intensifying as he spoke the words. ‘I’ve seen something similar in the army, men who’d survived horrific battles having recurring visions of the nightmares they’d seen. For some of them, the memories disappeared over time. I will do all I can to help you banish them. And I hope, after you know me longer, the thought of being with me won’t revive them.’

  She snuggled closer. ‘I hope so, too. Please remember that in my head, I know you are the one who protected me.’

  The idea that being wed to him could frighten her revolted him—a timely brake on burgeoning desire. Even so, it wasn’t wise to keep holding her. For the moment, the need to offer comfort kept his physical longing in check, but the attraction between them was too strong to be subdued for long.

  Gently, he released her and handed her back her glass. ‘We’ve had almost no time to talk the last few days. I should give you the particulars about accessing your account and you can tell me the plans you’re making for setting out on your sketching expeditions.’

  ‘The thatched plover, one of the most popular birds on the downs, leaves by mid-November for winter feeding grounds in France, according to Mr Bewick. There are several other migratory species in the area, some that fly in only for a brief time.’

  ‘Who will accompany you?’

  ‘Molly, of course.’

  ‘How will you travel?’

  ‘Hire a post-chaise, I suppose.’

  ‘Have you any idea how to do that?’

  ‘Well...no. But it can’t be that difficult. Harleton does it all the time.’

  ‘Do you know which inns you can stay at? How to bespeak a room, order food and provisions? You don’t, do you?’

  ‘Just because I’ve never done those things doesn’t mean I can’t,’ she argued.

  ‘It’s not a matter of competence,’ he said patiently. ‘Even if you knew how, you must take into account the view of the innkeepers and ostlers. No lady of good birth travels without male escort unless she’s in her own private carriage, attended by a host of servants and retainers who ride ahead to order rooms, meals and provisions. Men in the trade would suspect a lone woman of Quality travelling with a single maid to be a runaway wife or daughter, or a girl cast out by her family. In other words, potentially a source of trouble from an outraged noble family, who could make the merchant’s life quite difficult. The respectable inns probably wouldn’t take you and places that might would also harbour all sorts of unsavoury individuals. It simply isn’t safe for you to travel like that.’

  ‘So I’ll need to purchase a coach and hire a staff of grooms, outriders and maids?’ she asked with exasperation. ‘Before you point that out, no, I’ve never hired staff before, either. That could take weeks! I’ll just have to risk it. I simply can’t loll about London that long, if I am to reach all the places I need to go to complete my work.’

  Ben shook his head. ‘I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to set off into certain danger. Please, Lyssa, be sensible! If you absolutely must leave soon, let me come with you. The new session won’t start until December, so I can be out of London for another few weeks. Let me hire the carriage and grooms for this first journey and accompany you to the locales you must visit immediately. You can watch me during the journey to see how it’s done. In the meantime, here in London, Russell can find you a suitable coach, grooms and horses, and Mrs Ingleton can hire the additional staff.’

  ‘You, go with me?’ she asked, her eyes widening with alarm.

  Ben sighed. ‘Trust, again, Lyssa. Do you not believe I will honour my vows on the road, just as I have tonight?’

  She bit her lip. ‘I—I guess I believe it. But...it will be much easier for us both to resist temptation, if you remain in London.’

  Relieved she at least admitted to being tempted herself, he said, ‘I will treat you as chastely as a brother. I’m eager for you to make progress towards finishing your sketches. But surely you can understand how imprudent it would be to set off without proper organisation and protection.’

  After a moment, she nodded reluctantly. ‘Your argument is persuasive, much as I hate to admit it. I have travelled very little and never on my own. Arrangements have always been made by others; I wouldn’t know where to begin. And we’ve always journeyed in our own vehicle, with a substantial party of servants and baggage.’

  ‘There may be an additional advantage to having me on this first trip.’

  As she cocked an enquiring eyebrow, he said, ‘I don’t see how you can exorcise the demons warning you against me, unless we spend more time together. Enough time for the absolute certainty that I will never harm you to penetrate so deep into those bones, it displaces the fear. I’d like that to happen sooner rather than later, Lyssa. It’s...wounding to imagine you fear me, even though you know those fears are groundless.’

  ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘No, you don’t have to apologise. It’s irrational, something you can’t control.’

  He reached out for her hand and, after a moment, she gave it to him. ‘Words are easy; I want to prove by my actions that I keep my promises. To give you the funds that belong to you. To never touch, or attempt to entice you, unless you invite it. Today, I added vows to love, cherish and protect you, for the rest of our lives.’

  Her lips trembled and one tear slid down her cheek. He longed to kiss it away, but made himself remain motionless.

  With a gusty sigh, she released his hand. ‘How lucky I am, Ben Tawny, that you happened to be in the Quill and Gavel that night. Thank you for your patience and your caring, and your trust. What can I do, but try to be worthy of them? Yes, I will be grateful to have your help on my first expedition.’

  Ben hoped she might seal the bargain with a kiss, as she had impulsively kissed him after their interview with the solicitor. But after a tantalising moment, she drew back.

  Since proceeding makes it even harder to stop, I shall have to be more circumspect about starting. Sadly, it looked like she was going to be.

  Accepting her retreat, he said, ‘Why don’t you spend the rest of the evening finalising the itinerary? I’ll head out first thing tomorrow to obtain the carriage and provisions. You’ll also need to assess whether you need any additional art supplies, as we may not be able to find them in the countryside.’

  She nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll do both—and thank you again. For your...understand and forbearance. You could have...insisted on claiming what is now yours.’

  ‘What is now mine is the right to protect and defend you. Everything else—everything, Lyssa—still belongs to you. It always will.’

  Brushing away another tear, she nodded briskly. ‘I’d better get started.’

  He was relieved to see her already looking more like her normal, confident self. ‘I thought you would prefer to retain the bedchamber in which you’ve been staying. I’ll return to my own, at the back of the house. Do you want to work here in the parlour, or shall I ring for Molly to meet you in your chamber?’

  ‘I’ll ring for Molly, thank you.’

  ‘Then I’ll bid you good night. Sleep well, Lyssa—and dream only of the wonderful drawings you’re going to create.’

  Much as he craved a kiss, Ben made himself nod and walk out of the room.

  Good thing he would need to busy himself being a pathfinder and intelligence-gatherer, he thought as he mounted the stairs, painfully conscious of his still-aroused body. He needed something compelling to distract himself from the temptation of being near her day after day...denied the intimacy his body craved.

  Now that he understood her fears, he was even more determined to keep his word. And even more convinced that, some day—in the no
t-too-distant future—she would overcome them. And come to him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunlight danced on the waves in the cove below, the sound of crashing breakers, muted by distance, provided a soothing background hush, while sea birds swooped and soared in the windy sky above her. From her hidden spot in the tangle of low bushes, Alyssa worked rapidly to fill in with colour her sketch of the plover perched on a nearby branch. She’d just finished the markings of his head and chest when the bird flew off.

  She gazed at the drawing with satisfaction. The sketch was nearly complete, the still-empty sections tagged with a slash of colour that would allow her to finish at the inn tonight, even if she didn’t find another specimen to observe.

  A ‘halloo’ made her look up, to see Ben Tawny waving from a spot on the cliffs overlooking the sea where a blanket had been spread. He mimed pouring wine into a glass and made a questioning gesture. Smiling, she nodded and waved back, signalling her readiness for the picnic he’d prepared.

  Closing her sketchbook and latching the box of pastels, Alyssa rose and walked towards him. Her heart as light as the wispy grass blowing in the wind, she felt more fulfilled and carefree than she ever dreamed possible in the dark days of her confinement and despair.

  Ben walked over to meet her. ‘Did you finish the sketches you needed? I didn’t want to rush you, but I am famished.’

  ‘Near enough that I can complete it tonight, if I have to.’ She hoped he’d take her arm, but he didn’t. Keeping to the letter of his promise, he hadn’t touched her at all this entire trip—not even with such commonplace gestures as offering an arm while walking or a hand to assist her into a carriage.

  Not that she felt any less the subtle physical attraction that hummed between them whenever he was near. But he’d made absolutely no move to act upon it, a fact she’d initially found helpful and reassuring. But which, after nearly three weeks on the road, as wariness decreased and trust built, she was finding increasingly...frustrating.

  ‘What an excellent forager you are!’ she said, inspecting the picnic lunch he’d assembled for them. ‘Or commissariat officer, the army would call it?’

  ‘Forager is more apt,’ he said, taking her sketchbook and pastels box—careful not to let their fingers touch. ‘The commissariat generally kept the permanent compounds provisioned, but they often trailed behind when we were in the field. Of course, when out gathering intelligence, one was on one’s own to scrounge up victuals.’

  ‘The army may have honed the skill, but you must have been born with it. You’ve managed so efficiently this entire trip! Rooms bespoke before we arrive, hot water at the ready for bathing, supper waiting by the time we’ve washed off the dust of the road, extra candles in the rooms for additional light to complete drawings in the evenings... Picnics in the coach, if we’re travelling, or in the most picturesque spots near where I’m sketching.’

  He made her a bow. ‘With no marauding tigers or snakes to watch out for and no hostile troops looking to use me for target practice, it’s like reliving the best of my free-ranging days with the army, with none of the drawbacks. I hope it’s allowed you the maximum amount of time and daylight to work.’

  ‘It has. I admit, I couldn’t have completed nearly as many sketches without you taking care of the arrangements.’

  He smiled at her, affection and that something more lurking in his gaze. ‘You positively glow when you’re sketching, you know. I’m glad I’ve been able to give you the chance to work, free of constraint.’

  ‘How can I thank you enough? I can’t remember ever being this happy. Not even when I was tromping the fields with Harleton, before we...fell out.’ Though she could imagine one more thing that might make her happier...

  Pushing that temptation out of mind, she chuckled. ‘Molly adores you, too. With you riding out with me, locating the best birding sites and remaining to stand guard, she’s been able to stay at the inn, having meals at leisure, and finishing her duties with plenty of time left over for gossiping with the maids and flirting with the grooms.’

  ‘I’m happy to exchange places. I’d much rather be in the saddle, exploring—and keeping watch—than trapped back at the inn, twiddling my thumbs.’

  ‘Or winning the cost of this lunch at cards from some unsuspecting traveller?’

  Gesturing her to a seat, he gave a lazy shrug. ‘One must maintain one’s skills. Never know when it might be necessary to fund that next meal.’

  ‘Skill developed at Eton and Oxford?’ she guessed. ‘You told Mama you never developed a taste for town entertainment, as you tried to spend as little as possible of your mother’s blunt.’

  ‘Yes, I did begin gaming there. Though some of my opponents I’d rather have punched in the mouth, doing that could get one expelled. Relieving them of some of their generous allowance was almost as satisfying.’

  ‘I hope you won some off Harleton. I’m sure Papa provided for him handsomely.’

  ‘Though he was temptingly plump in the pocket, as I once told you, I avoided your brother. He was too prone to remarks that would have strained my resolve not to plant him a facer.’

  Taking a seat just a tempting arm’s length away, he poured them wine from a jug and handed over a glass. This time, she wrapped her fingers over his as he handed to her—and left them there.

  His gaze shot to hers, the molten depths of his green eyes sending a blaze of heat through her. For a long moment, they stared at each other, conversation silenced by the connection flowing between them, hot as the sun on her shoulders, powerful as the breakers crashing against the rocks below.

  Helplessly drawn to him, she leaned forward and angled her face up, thirstier for his kiss than for the wine he offered. His scorching gaze roved over her face, making her lips tingle, then dropped to her chest, setting a jolt of awareness to her breasts. Filled with a strange urgency, heart thudding in her chest, she could scarcely breathe.

  Then, just as her eyes fluttered shut, he turned that lighthouse beam gaze away, seizing a loaf of bread from his haversack and pulling off pieces. She thought his hands were shaking. She hoped so; hers certainly were.

  Should she take the bread from him, climb on to his lap, claim the kiss she yearned for? You are free to enjoy passion, too.

  She could be, couldn’t she? So far Ben had kept every promise. He’d induced Mr Chambers to set aside Aunt Augusta’s bequest in an account for her, giving her the thrill of walking into the bank and withdrawing funds—every clerk in the place staring in horrified fascination. He’d supported and assisted her desire to travel, masterfully arranging this trip to give her the maximum amount of time to sketch. He’d scrupulously—too scrupulously—honoured his pledge not to touch her or beguile her into intimacy.

  Every day, the dark demons of fear receded further.

  Why not indulge in the passion between them and give herself to him completely? Losing herself in passion didn’t mean she had to lose who she was, nor would it give him some sort of control over her.

  Or would it?

  Though she might belong to him in that way...so might others. She doubted he’d avail himself of her permission to seek pleasure elsewhere now, when they were still in the first days together. But after she gave in, gave herself, and they’d had weeks—or months—to slake that hunger?

  Would he then be ready to taste passion elsewhere?

  Perhaps that was the final doubt she’d not been able to resolve, the one stricture holding her back from claiming what she hungered for. Which made no sense. She’d been almost ready to give herself to him at Dornton, before there was a hint of anything permanent between them. When he’d certainly go on to other lovers after her.

  So why hesitate now?

  If they had trysted just that once, and he moved on, she wouldn’t have to wonder when he came back to her after each time apart whethe
r there had been someone else. Whether there still was someone else.

  She could reopen the discussion, tell him she wanted to withdraw her approval of his seeking companionship elsewhere. But, having thrust him in a situation which left him virtually no choice but to marry her, curtailing the only freedom left to him didn’t seem fair.

  Especially when she’d already promised it to him. And he had kept all his promises to her.

  While she dithered, Ben cut up ham, cheese and apple, piled it on a napkin, and passed it to her. He whistled cheerfully as he did it, seeming nowhere near as frustrated and conflicted as she was, she thought, disgruntled.

  ‘Have you thought how you are going to approach the publisher, once your sketches are complete? Mr McCalister acted as your agent before, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, the mention of Will’s name bringing with it an echo of sorrow, less sharp now than it had once been. ‘I shall have to find someone else. However enthusiastic Waterman may have been when he saw the drawings, his ardour would swiftly fade, if he knew they had been done by a female.’

  ‘Fair or not, he knows the work wouldn’t be as well received,’ Ben agreed. ‘Would you like me to ask around to find a suitable agent?’

  ‘I would very much appreciate that,’ she replied, pleased and gratified that he’d offered—for she hadn’t intended to ask the favour. ‘I wouldn’t know where to begin. I need someone who believes strongly in the work, strongly enough not to be put off by the fact that it was done by a female. I expect most men would have as many reservations as the publisher.’

  ‘I don’t see how anyone who sees your drawings could fail to appreciate them. But I’d be happy to find someone who is suitably enthusiastic.’