Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Traveling Can Be Entertaining

Meanwhile, back at Excelsior Park

S tepping into the Leicester coach at half-past ten o’clock, James joined Eloise on the seat that faced the direction of travel and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve enough blunt with me to buy a marriage license and a luncheon for us in Ely,” he claimed. “I looked for your mother—to let her know you’d be with me—but I couldn’t find her. I asked the butler to let your parents know you were coming with me.”

Eloise stared at him before she let out a hmph . “She and Steph went off to Cambridge to see the modiste,” she explained. “To have her wedding clothes made. They probably won’t be back until tomorrow. Does acquiring this license mean we can marry today? Or tomorrow?”

James shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. We’d require a special license for that,” he replied. At her look of expectation, he added, “We’d have to pay a call at the archbishop’s office in Doctors’ Commons in London.”

“So…why aren’t we going to London?” she asked, all innocence.

Amused by her enthusiasm, he chuckled. “Well, it would take nearly eight hours for us to get there, and by then, the archbishop’s office will be closed. We’d have to spend the night, and…” He chuckled again. “Oh, no, my sweeting. We’re going to do this the right way. I’ll not have us wed as if we’ve done something tawdry.”

“Tawdry?” she repeated.

“If I take you to London, your father can claim I kidnapped you, and then he can say I forced you into marrying me for your dowry,” he explained. “He’ll cut you off.” He’ll cut me off . “I wish for us to remain in good stead with him.”

She nodded her understanding. “He wouldn’t do that,” she said. “He’s quite taken with your idea of providing protection for the Ionian Islands.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” James replied. “What would you say to going there for our wedding trip?”

“To Greece?” she asked in awe.

He nodded. “Mayhap make a stop in Rome on the way…”

He was prevented from mentioning the rest of the itinerary he had considered earlier that morning when she pulled his head down with a gloved hand and kissed him. “Oh, yes. I’d like that very much.”

“You didn’t let me finish, you minx,” James complained with a grin.

“There’s more?”

“Well, Valencia—Spain—is sort of on the way. Then Sicily.”

“Have you been? When you were on your Grand Tour?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, Napoleon prevented what might have been my Grand Tour, but now that he’s been vanquished, thanks to men like my brother, Charles, I can do my tour with you on my arm.”

“Your brother fought in the war?” she asked.

“Charles is a captain in the British army,” James replied. “He was badly injured, though. His leg was broken, so he hobbles about now.”

Eloise hissed. “Where does he live?”

“At Leicester House,” James replied. “At least, I expect that’s where he is. I left him in charge of the earldom when I departed the day before yesterday.” He gave his head a shake. “I cannot believe how much has happened in only a couple of days.”

“He could be married by now,” Eloise teased.

A hearty laugh escaped James. “I rather doubt that.”

Eloise sobered. “Why?”

“He hasn’t been in London for more than a year. He’s only recently returned from the Continent. Besides, he doesn’t believe there’s a woman who would abide a man who limps about on crutches or a cane.”

Straightening on the bench, Eloise gave him a look of disbelief. “Then he’s a fool,” she announced.

James blinked. “If I joined you on your walk yesterday morning employing a pair of crutches or…or using a cane—”

“I would have walked slower. And I wouldn’t have been so suspicious of your motives,” Eloise stated.

“Why is that?”

“Well, because I could have outrun you should you have attempted to do something improper.”

“And if I couldn’t have made love to you last night? Because my leg might not have worked quite right?”

“James!” she scolded. “The important part of you…the part of you…” She moved a hand to his lap. “Well, it would have no doubt worked just fine.”

“But how would I have supported myself atop you?” For a moment, James was sure he had made his case—or rather, his brother’s. But Eloise blushed a bright shade of pink and grinned in delight. “El?” he prompted.

She giggled. “I would have crawled atop you,” she replied. In a whisper, she added, “I believe it’s called ‘Riding St. George’?”

James blinked. And blinked again. “El! Where do you get your naughty—but perfectly delectable—ideas?”

“I can read ,” she replied. “Well, and I do like to look at the drawings,” she added as she rolled her eyes, pretending innocence. “The color plates.”

“Ah,” he replied with amusement. “I’m marrying a bluestocking.”

“You are not,” she argued, a fist going to her waist in defiance, despite the fact that she was seated. “Although I do like to read. For my education and for entertainment.”

“Gothic novels?” he guessed, quickly sobering. “Minerva Press?”

“Yes,” she replied with a hint of reluctance. “You?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been known to stay awake reading until dawn breaks,” he claimed. “Missed a session of Parliament once because I could not get out of bed until I’d finished one of them.”

“Me, too!”

The two stared at one another before they embraced and then kissed.

“I knew there was a reason I was so attracted to you,” James whispered. “Besides how gorgeous you are. And the fact that you seem to enjoy kissing me.”

Eloise grinned. “You remind me so much of my brother.”

James stiffened. “Oh? Do you like Lord Edward?”

“Oh, very much,” she said. “He’s my best friend. We played together from the time he was born,” she claimed, her face lighting up as she spoke. “I miss him so much.”

James pulled her close. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “He went off to school. Grew up,” she replied. “But we were thick as thieves before he left. We played with anything we could find out back beyond the gardens.”

“Frogs?” James guessed.

She gasped. “How did you know?”

James chuckled. “My brother and I used to race them. Lost most of them in the back garden, though.”

“We lost a couple of them in the house,” Eloise said as she cringed. “Steph is capable of the most blood-curdling screams you’ve ever heard.”

James struggled to keep from laughing at his future sister’s expense. “Like those they describe in gothic books.”

“Yes, exactly,” Eloise agreed in delight. “When mother forbid me to ever touch a frog again, we moved on to rubber balls and croquet and archery and…”

“And?” James prompted, aware she had paused as if she wasn’t sure she should admit what else she had done with Lord Edward.

“Would you think me a hoyden if I said I missed playing with swords?”

James stared at her for a moment. “Real swords? How could you even lift it? The one I have mounted in my study must weigh half a stone.”

“Well, they weren’t real ,” Eloise explained. “They were made of wood, so they weren’t too heavy.”

“Oh,” James said with a chuckle. “Charles and I played with wooden swords, too.” “Then over the years, we graduated to fencing foils.” He chuckled. “I think we were far better with the wooden ones. Even with that little button on the end of the blade, Charles still managed to inflict a few wounds,” he complained, pulling up his coat sleeve to display the white line of a scar on the back of one wrist. “He was always better at fighting.”

Eloise hissed. “I only ever got bruises, and not because Ed tried to hurt me,” she claimed. “We just didn’t know what we were doing. At first.”

A brow arching, James regarded her a moment. “It sounds as if you improved?”

“Oh, yes. Father taught us a few moves when Mother wasn’t looking. Showed us how to hold our swords. How to stand. How to attack and retreat,” she explained. “Reminded me I should wear gloves so I wouldn’t get splinters.”

“Where did you play?”

“Out of doors, except in the winter. Then we’d fight in the first-floor corridor—the one opposite of the parlor—when Mother was in her salon.” She gave him a teasing grin.

“We would commandeer the main hall,” James said. “Do our best to avoid the round table, since Mother’s favorite vase was in the middle of it. Usually full of her favorite cut flowers.”

“Did it survive?”

James laughed. “Oh, yes. It’s still there, in fact, but a marble bust of some Roman emperor had to be reconstructed. He toppled off a caryatid and lost his nose.”

Eloise gasped. “Was it you?”

“Oh, yes. But I blamed it on Charles,” James replied, his deadpan expression finally giving way to a huge grin. “I don’t think he ever challenged me to a sword fight after that.”

“So then, who do you duel with now?” Eloise asked. “Do you belong to that academy in London? Where they engage in swordplay?”

“Angelo’s?” he guessed. “I do not, although I have practiced there a few times,” he said, rather liking how she seemed to hold him in higher esteem at hearing he had been at the academy. “Do you still have your wooden sword?”

Eloise stared at him a moment. “I think it must be up in the attic,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’d be up for a match,” he claimed. “Defend my gorgeous countess from the dragon’s champion,” he said in a lowered voice, his arm held out as if he were holding a sword. “ En guard !”

“How can you defend me when you’d be fighting me, too?” Eloise asked in confusion.

“Well, we’d have to play multiple parts,” he reasoned.

“Or we could just fight to determine who gets to be on top in bed that night,” she suggested.

James’s eyes rounded. “You mean parry and thrust our way to the bedchamber?”

Eloise giggled in delight.

“It would never work.”

“Whyever not?”

“I’d let you win every time,” he claimed, just as the coach came to a stuttering halt.

They both leaned forward to stare out the window. The coach door opened to reveal the driver.

“We’re here, sir.”

Eloise and James turned to stare at one another. “Already?” they asked in unison.

Stepping aside without replying, the driver helped Eloise down the step, and James quickly followed.

He kissed her cheek before offering his arm, delighting in how her face lit up with a smile while completely oblivious to the man who was watching them from his office window.