Chapter Three
The coach lumbered down the uneven road, then jolted over another deep rut, tossing Penelope against Edward’s solid shoulder.
“Must you take up so much space?” she demanded, wriggling upright and attempting to smooth her skirts with all the dignity she could muster. She was tired of traveling and feeling jostled like a fish in a wave every time they hit a rut.
Which seemed to occur every five seconds. They’d been on the road for days.
Edward didn’t even look up from the book balanced in his large hands. “It’s not I who’s taking up space. It’s your hat.”
“This is a very fashionable hat.” Pen sniffed in defiance and immediately felt guilty. “I apologize for being so waspish.”
“I’m used to it,” the infuriating man chuckled. “However, I beg to differ about your definition of fashionable. Your hat has feathers large enough to frighten livestock. I’m fairly certain your brother’s new hunter bolted at the sight of it.”
“Not much of a horse for hunting if a few feathers upsets him.”
When Edward reached to push the feathers out of her face, she swatted his hand. “Mock me if you like, but appearances matter. What if we meet someone important on the road?”
“We are traveling to a boarding school in the middle of nowhere.” He closed his book and directed his full attention to her. “I doubt we shall see any of our acquaintances.”
Immediately, she felt better. Just having him concentrate on their conversation made the drafty carriage feel ten degrees warmer. “Perhaps. Still, one must dress one’s best. You never know when destiny will arrive.”
In the blink of an eye, the coach gave a terrifying lurch. The coachman shouted, horses screamed, and then—with a splintering crack filling the air—the wheel gave way.
Penelope shrieked and clutched Edward’s arm as they were thrown together in a heap of limbs, feathers, and indignity.
“Pen,” Edward shouted as his arms surrounded her.
The earth tumbled as the entire coach tipped onto its side with a reverberating crack.
Somehow, Edward had flipped their bodies so that she landed on top, straddling him like he was a horse.
It was challenging to determine what was harder—the carriage or Edward.
With her nose buried against the soft linen of his shirt and the warm wool of his morning coat, her galloping heartbeat slowed at his familiar scent.
The fragrance that was uniquely Edward mixed with his cologne of evergreen and sandalwood immediately soothed her.
“Look at me,” he commanded as he cupped her cheeks and gently tugged her upward until she was looking at him. “Are you all right?” His eyes frantically roamed over her face as he began to explore every inch of her. “Are you hurt?”
She was too frightened to be embarrassed as his hands ran up and down her legs and arms. “I’m fine.”
His gaze never left hers.
“Truly. As importantly, are you all right?” She pushed his hands away.
A part of her wanted him to continue, as she had dreamed of Edward touching her this way, but not because he was frightened for her well-being and safety.
Penelope wanted his hands on her because he could not resist her and her curves.
He closed his eyes and relaxed his head on the side of the carriage, which was currently lying on its side in the middle of the road. “I’m all right if you are.”
“Thank goodness,” she murmured, then peeked at him. “That makes me doubly all right then.”
She bit her lip at the sound of her softness of her voice.
She was flirting with her very best friend in the world.
The idea that she even contemplated such a maneuver was ridiculous.
She’d tried it before at assemblies back home, and it had never worked.
She had little confidence that it would work now, particularly with her sprawled all over him.
“I’m going to move you and then try to exit the carriage without killing myself or you.” He wrapped one arm around her body and the other around her leg. “Ready?”
Before Penelope could protest, he moved, and she let out a soft whimper. Her knee hurt like the devil. It was unladylike to think such a thing, but at least she didn’t say it aloud.
“Pen?”
Before Penelope could stop him, Edward lifted the skirt of her gown above her knee and bent close.
“Edward,” she hissed as she fought to lower her skirt. “What are you doing?”
“Pen,” he repeated softly as he rubbed her left knee. “Your stocking has fallen, and you have a nasty bruise forming on the inside of your leg. Can you move it?”
Heat bludgeoned her cheeks as her mortification spread. For the love of all best friends everywhere, she had never shown any part of her body to him. She couldn’t speak, let alone look at him. The only thing she could manage was a nod. Slowly, she lifted her leg to prove she was mobile.
Edward continued to rub her knee gently. “Let me know if it’s too painful to walk. I’ll carry you.”
Before she could protest that she could walk on her own, the coachman’s voice called out beside the carriage. “Lady Penelope?”
“We’re fine, Joshua,” she offered quickly. She didn’t need any more males offering assistance. One was quite enough, thank you.
“Joshua, will you assist me by steadying the carriage? I’m going to help Lady Penelope out.”
“Oh course, Mr. Thornton,” the coachman answered.
Carefully, Edward stood and hoisted himself through the window out of the coach. As soon as he disappeared, he reappeared. “Can you stand?”
She nodded.
“Excellent. Stand through the window. I’ll grab you by the waist and lift you out.”
With as much dignity as she possessed, Penelope followed the instructions as directed. She reached for his book and handed it to him. “You’ll want this.”
Thank you.” He threw it on the ground without a glance.
“Edward, what are you doing? That’s an expensive book.”
“It is. But my sole concern is you.”
He had an undeniable talent to know what to say and when to say it. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. How long had it been since anyone had said something so kind to her? She sniffed quietly. She could not read anything into such a kind statement. They were friends. That was all.
Without even batting an eye, he grabbed her by the waist. Before she could insist that she could do it herself, he lifted her out of the carriage as if she weighed nothing, then gently set her down.
“There,” he soothed. “Right as a trivet.” He brushed dust from his sleeve and smiled. “Seems destiny has a wicked sense of humor.”
“What do you mean?” Penelope asked as she brushed off her gown.
“Weren’t you saying something about feathers, looking one’s best, and scaring the livestock?” He picked up his book and placed it in his coat pocket. “All because of your hat.”
“The carriage didn’t tip over because of my attire,” she protested. “This is an outrageous example of chance.”
“At least chance landed us close to a posting inn.”
Coming from the inn’s courtyard, a man bustled over, shaking his head. “The wheel is ruined. You’ll be staying the night.”
Joshua took his hat off and scratched his head. “My thoughts as well, sir.”
The younger coachman, William, who accompanied them, nodded in agreement.
“Well, if it wasn’t destiny, then at least your chance had our carriage break down in front of an inn,” Edward murmured as he winked her way.
“Hush,” she quietly admonished. “It’s as much your chance as mine.”
The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed at the sight of their dusty and muddied state, her ruined gown, and Edwards’ hand still steadying her elbow. “Newlyweds, eh?”
Penelope blinked as Edward grew as still as a statue.
She should deny it and spare them any additional embarrassment, but honestly, this was brilliant. They could travel more easily if they were “married.” No more looks of censure because there wasn’t a chaperon or lady’s maid to accompany her. A true blessing in disguise.
Perhaps if Edward was used to the idea already, he wouldn’t be angry once they arrived at Miss Eloise’s and realized what Pen had done to secure lodgings for them.
“Newlyweds. Yes,” Penelope said brightly, clutching Edward’s arm and gazing at him adoringly. “That’s exactly right. We are newlyweds. Fresh from the altar. Practically glowing, aren’t we, darling?”
She turned her most dazzling smile on Edward. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for strength. She shot a pleading look at Joshua and William, begging them to stay quiet.
Joshua frowned but nodded once, then turned his attention to William, who swallowed and followed with a single nod.
Penelope’s entire body relaxed at their agreement.
One less worry. She and Edward had argued over the need for a chaperone.
He had worried about propriety and her reputation.
However, she had convinced him with a sound piece of logic.
The fewer people who knew about her plans not to marry but still fulfill her father’s task, the better.
That meant no lady’s maids or chaperones.
There was also the added benefit that with them posing as newlyweds, no one would think anything amiss with her and Edward together.
The innkeeper beamed. “My name is Honeycutt.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “I own the posting inn. There’s only one room left, but it’ll suit you fine.”
“One room?” Edward asked sharply.
“With one bed,” the innkeeper added cheerfully.
“Will there be room for my driver and coachman?” she asked.
The innkeeper’s brow furrowed into neat lines. “Your driver and coachman? In the bridal suite?”
Joshua’s eyes widened to the size of a fine china dinner plate served at her brother’s estate.
“We’ve been married for such a short amount of time, I forget.” Penelope batted her eyes in modesty. “I meant our driver and coachman, and not in our bedroom. But we want them somewhere comfortable. Isn’t that right, darling?”
Oh, it was fun to needle Edward, but there was something truly enjoyable about acting as if he were her husband. Perhaps she shouldn’t dismiss the idea of marriage without at least considering it.
That was a thought best left to ponder on another day.
The innkeeper let out a relieved sigh. “Perfectly understandable, and to answer your question, yes, we have room for you and your husband’s driver and coachman. Plus, we have someone on staff who can help with repairing that wheel.” He bowed slightly at the waist. “If you’ll follow me.”
Penelope’s grin widened as she tugged Edward toward the inn’s entrance. “How perfectly romantic,” she cooed.
“This is a disaster in the making,” Edward muttered as he wrapped her arm around his.
She leaned close and gave him her most brilliant smile. “Nonsense, my darling.” She wrinkled her nose. “But do try not to snore, husband.”