Chapter Eight
Fletcher hadn’t allowed himself to think of how much he truly wanted to kiss her.
The urge—the desire—had been lying just beneath the surface, tamped down from necessity and from some sense of just how unusual their situation truly was.
Regardless, there had been an awareness from the moment he’d first seen her that he found her shockingly appealing.
While she was far lovelier than he could have ever hoped, it wasn’t simply that she was beautiful. It was that she was simply her.
Soft, vulnerable, brave, determined, a bit obstinate, and still, through all of it, possessing a kind of sweetness that he’d seldom encountered in his life.
But then, by and large, he’d avoided young and virtuous women because he’d had nothing to offer them.
No prospects. No title. No fortune. Despite that, he imagined that Daphne was singular in some way—special.
So much so that it might have frightened him had he not already been in the process of running away with her to elope.
Now, with her lips moving sweetly beneath his, innocent and untutored but deliciously eager, he could no longer deny or ignore just how deep his attraction to her was.
And it was the most natural thing in the world to deepen that kiss, to take it just a bit further.
When he tasted the soft recesses of her mouth, swallowing her surprised gasp even as she sank against him, easing in his embrace, Fletcher immediately realized his error.
It was too much. Not for her, but for him.
She had no notion what lay beyond kissing, but he did, and a taste of it made him want more and more.
One taste and all the reasons for restraint, for patience, were simply forgotten in the wake of need that ignited with a feverish intensity.
He became acutely aware of the surprisingly lush curves concealed beneath her clothing, of the slight tremor in her body as reaction gave way to responsiveness—to pleasure.
It took concerted effort to keep his hands pressed against her back and waist, not to let temptation lead them on a journey that she was perhaps not ready for.
And then he heard it. Over the rain, over the wind, the sound of hoofbeats.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled back from her. “Go into the bed chamber. Conceal yourself however possible and do not make a sound… It’s likely nothing.”
The fear he saw in her eyes was telling enough. It wasn’t simply that she didn’t wish to marry Pozenby. She was terrified of the prospect and likely just as terrified of her father. Considering the bruises he’d seen on her arms, it was certainly easy enough to see why.
There was a forceful knock at the door and Fletcher moved across the room to answer it, positioning himself in such a way that he mostly obscured anyone’s view into the abode in the off chance that some tell-tale sign of her presence lingered.
But when he opened that door, he found himself unaccountably relieved.
It was a familiar face on the other side of it, though one he had not seen since he was a much younger man.
A local man, Mr. Watkins, had been looking after the lodge since Fletcher had been barely out of leading strings.
“Mr. Watkins, I see you are taking care of things as promptly and efficiently as usual.”
The visitor smiled, revealing a large gap between his front teeth that gave the rather rotund man an almost childlike appearance.
“Aye, Mr. Quill—or, m’lord, I should say—that I am.
One of the tenants nearby sent his boy up to the house to tell me that a carriage had broken down on the main road and a couple—a man and a young woman—had wandered along the woodland path what led to the lodge here.
Didn’t know it was you, my lord, or I’d never have bothered you.
’Tis good that you’ve come back! Will you be heading on to Avelynd after the rain passes? ”
“No. Just stopping to rest on my way north. And, Watkins, should anyone ask you if I’ve been here, that’s between the two of us.”
“Is there aught amiss, Mister Q—m’lord?” The man asked with concern. He peered over Fletcher’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman in question.
“No, Mr. Watkins. I am, however, in the process of eloping with a young lady who has been promised by her father to a most unsuitable and horrid man. They may be in pursuit and it’s imperative that they do not locate us.”
“Mum’s the word, sir—my lord. And congratulations… Heading to Gretna Green, are you?”
“Just so… We’ve a long journey ahead of us and the delay from the broken axle will be a costly one. I know you’re concerned for the young lady in question, but I assure you she is a willing participant in the elopement. Everything is quite consensual and undertaken with honorable intent.”
“Oh, aye, m’lord. I know you’re a right sort who wouldn’t do anything dishonorable.
If the lady is with you, that’s her choice,” Mr. Watkins agreed.
“And I daresay you’d be a better option than anyone else for her.
Best wishes and felicitations. I’ll see to it that a hamper of food will be waiting for you in the morning to ease your journey the rest of the way. ”
“You’ve been very kind, Watkins. Thank you. And your discretion is most appreciated.”
The caretaker nodded, started to walk away, then turned back.
“Begging your pardon for saying so, m’lord, but if you’re in a hurry to be wed, and assuming the young lady is of age to do so, a common license can be had in Nottingham.
Now that you’re lord of the manor and a property owner in the county, you’d be able to apply for a license without any problem at all.
And no one elopes to Nottingham. I reckon they’d breeze right past heading for Gretna Green in pursuit—if you’re worried about that. ”
When Watkins had left, Fletcher closed the door and bolted it securely. His mind was whirling with this new possibility. Soft footfalls behind him told him that his betrothed had reentered the room. “It was only the caretaker.”
“I heard… well, I knew it was a servant from what I overheard of your conversation”
“I spent quite a bit of time at Avelynd after my parents died. And a considerable amount of time here at this hunting lodge. My uncle was… he liked to entertain and those sorts of entertainments were not exactly for a young boy as I was,” Fletcher explained.
“Mr. Watkins is one of the kindest people I’ve ever known and took very good care of me then.
How much of our conversation did you hear? ”
“Enough,” she replied. “And I hadn’t considered it, but I am two and twenty. It is possible. But is it wise?”
“I think, under the circumstances, it might be our best chance,” he said.
“I’m not certain why I didn’t think of it before except that perhaps I am so very new to being a landed gentleman.
Everyone in London, from Mrs. Dove-Lyon to the Lynleys think we are making for the border.
Not that they would betray us, but gossip makes its way, doesn’t it? ”
“Indeed, it does. So we marry tomorrow in Nottingham?”
Fletcher nodded. To his mind, the sooner the better for a multitude of reasons. But for now, he needed her far from him. He needed himself free of temptation.
“The pace we’ve been keeping has been too much for you. You are exhausted,” he said.
“As are you. This journey has not been easy for either of us.”
“I can sleep here before the fire. You take the bed,” he insisted.
“No. We can both share the bed. The aches and pains this journey has created are quite likely shared. Or do you deny that?”
“I do not deny it,” he admitted with chagrin. “There are more ruts than road this way, but it’s also the least traveled. Hence the necessity of it. It would be most improper.”
“We have been alone in a carriage for days as we set out to elope to Gretna Green. Impropriety is already well established… it’s a matter of degrees, really. This time tomorrow, it would be expected that we should share a bed.”
While he agreed with her in principle, the reality of their situation was something quite different. Being that close to her without touching her would be torture. But denying himself the pleasure of being close to her—well that was something he wasn’t certain he was capable of.
Crossing the small room to the adjoining bedchamber, he took her hand and guided her into the chamber. Together, they lay down on the narrow bed. Drawing the covers over them, he waited for her breathing to soften and slow with sleep. And then he prepared himself for a long and sleepless night.