Chapter 19 #3
Peaches winced before she could stop herself because that reminded her of all the things she had tried to avoid thinking about on the way to Bath, all the reasons she and Stephen could never be anything at all, all the things that had been driven right out of her empty head when he’d kissed her.
But there was no denying the truth. She tried to pull her feet away, but he looked at her first in surprise, then with a frown.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the sensible side of the table.”
“Peaches—”
“Oh, David, look who we have here!” said a voice brightly.
Peaches looked to her left and blinked. It took her a moment to realize she was looking up at David and Irene Preston.
She didn’t look up at either of them for very long because they both immediately slid onto the benches, David next to her and Irene next to Stephen, leaving her with the opportunity to gaze on their wonderfulness at eye-level.
“Isn’t this cozy?” Irene purred, looking at Stephen as if he were a tasty chocolate she intended to ingest at her earliest opportunity.
Peaches could think of many things to call the current arrangements, but cozy wasn’t one of them.
She found she was paying far more attention to how Irene was fawning over Stephen than she was to the fact that David had put his arm around her and was groping her shoulder.
She pulled away and frowned at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, that’s settled, Peachy,” David said with the same sort of brightness Irene had used. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”
It took her a moment to understand what he was saying. “Noon?”
“Tomorrow,” he said, then leaned closer and gave her a conspiratorial smile. “For lunch, if we can’t think of something more interesting. Of course, Irene will be at loose ends, so Stephen will no doubt step up and be a gentleman. Won’t you, Haulton?”
“Of course,” Stephen said with absolutely no expression on his face. “Wherever you want to go, Irene.”
“How fortunate we’re all in Bath today,” Irene said smoothly, “and that we have enjoyed the coincidence of running into each other.” She slid Stephen a look. “Perhaps Miss Alexander would prefer to ride back to Sedgwick with David.”
Stephen opened his mouth to respond, but Peaches kicked him quite firmly on some part of his lower leg that made him flinch—on the off chance he thought he was going to dump her with a man who couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her.
“A pity that isn’t possible,” he said, “given that she’s in Cambridge this week.” He looked at David blandly. “Wouldn’t want to make you fight traffic, old man.”
“But we’re in Cambridge as well,” Irene said. “David has business there, and I thought I should accompany him. How convenient for us all to be in close quarters. This also leaves us with no reason why we can’t switch passengers.”
Peaches would have chosen a different word than convenient, but she wasn’t the one doing the choosing.
“Perhaps another time,” Stephen said in a tone that said very clearly that the discussion was over, at least for him. “We have research to discuss, I’m afraid. Sheep lore, I believe, and other things that are vital to my current interests.” He looked at her. “Isn’t that right, Miss Alexander?”
Peaches nodded, then kept her mouth shut and focused on Stephen’s tapping the side of her boot gently. She wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it, though a surreptitious glance his way during Irene’s very lengthy extolling of the virtues of the shopping to be found in Bath told her differently.
The subsequent hour was miserable enough that she did her best to forget it. David couldn’t seem to stop touching her, and she couldn’t seem to convince him politely that he should. She wasn’t sure if that was more or less unpleasant than watching Irene hang on Stephen.
She was vastly relieved when she finally found herself sitting in Stephen’s car, heading back to Cambridge, though she wasn’t at all sure why. Stephen was absolutely silent. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking.
And then he held out his hand for hers. She looked at him quickly, but he was watching the road.
She studied his hand for a moment or two, then reached out and put her hand in his.
He laid her hand palm down on his thigh, then covered it with his own.
That lasted until they hit the M25 and he had to negotiate London ring-road traffic.
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it, then returned it to her lap.
She was happy for the chance to catch her breath and simply watch him as he watched traffic.
It gave her the chance to study his face in a way she hadn’t been able to until then.
He had perhaps a handful of freckles sprinkled across his nose and very faint lines near his eyes.
She would have, if someone had asked her a week ago where those lines had come from, said they were from scowling.
Now, she supposed they were from a combination of smiling and many, many hours spent in Scotland, squinting at some crazed, sword-wielding Highlander.
“What?” he asked, after he’d glanced at her and realized she was watching him.
It took her a bit to be able to say what she wanted to. “I don’t remember saying yes to David.”
He chewed on that for a bit. “For lunch, or something else?”
“Either.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I didn’t realize I’d said yes to lunch tomorrow, but I couldn’t think of a good way out of it. Not that there’s any reason to get out of it, I suppose,” she added.
“Hmmm,” was all he said.
Peaches wasn’t sure she could be any more uncomfortable.
The urge to bolt was strong, but she was unfortunately buckled in and the weather had turned nasty.
All she could do was sit in absolute luxury, listen to the BBC station Stephen turned on after he’d smothered one too many yawns, and wish that she were anywhere else.
She wasn’t sure where the kiss he’d given her earlier had come from, or where the herding had gone.
Maybe seeing the Duke of Kenneworth had reminded Stephen of his own obligations to get himself involved with a woman of a certain sort.
Like Irene Preston, for example.
Stephen wended his way through Cambridge until he pulled up in front of Holly’s row house.
He parked, fetched her out of the car, then walked her to the door.
She turned to thank him and found herself in his arms. And once she was there, there was no point in not hugging him back.
Which she did. She closed her eyes and tried not to frighten him with how hard she wanted to hold on to him.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said quietly.
She nodded, then pulled out of his arms. That he didn’t stop her told her something. She wasn’t sure what, but it was something. If he had wanted to discuss herding or kisses or plans for the future, he was certainly missing out on the opportunity.
She decided there was no point in waiting for him to speak. She walked up to the porch, let herself in, then looked at him once before she shut the door. His face was in shadows, but she could see he was wearing his customary politely serious expression.
She walked back to her room, not sure if she were more unhappy with David for intruding or Stephen for being so quiet.
The one thing she was sure of was that she was starting to seriously doubt that fairy tales even happened any longer.