Chapter Five
When the Darlington carriage stopped in front of Julian’s home the following week, he took his single bag from Spencer and descended down the steps. The rest of his luggage had been sent ahead on his own carriage with Ben.
He hadn’t wanted the rest of their group to think him a dandy for needing a valet for an archaeological dig.
The footman opened the door and Julian hesitated for a moment when he found only Miss Bantham waiting inside.
After he’d caught her appraising him at the tailors, he knew she was not so unaffected by him as she let on. But he shouldn’t have let his amusement get away from him. Had he kept the knowledge to himself he might have used it to his advantage. Instead, he’d laughed and then watched as her icy walls grew higher and thicker.
It was a foolish thing but he’d been so relieved to see that she did, in fact, like him. If only in the physical sense. It was something. Or had been. Now she wouldn’t even look at him.
With a resigned sigh, he took the seat opposite her and waited for her to acknowledge him in some way.
“Good day to you, Miss Bantham.”
“Good day, my lord,” she fairly mumbled with only a darting glance in his direction.
He was quite under her skin. It was as good a place as any to start. A few moments alone with her and he might win her over.
At the thought of being alone, he moved his gaze from her to the otherwise empty carriage.
“Are we to make another stop to get the rest of our group?” he asked.
“No. It is just me.”
He put his foot out before the footman could shut the door, otherwise sealing his fate with this woman.
“I was to understand the Leightons would be joining us.”
“They received word yesterday morning their first grandchild was born. They went ahead to visit. They will meet us in Scotland after they’ve met their grandson.”
“And your maid?”
She looked at him then, and he wondered why he’d wished she would have looked at him earlier. Her brows were pinched together and her usually warm, brown eyes were shooting sparks.
Ah. The glare was back.
“I have no maid.”
“A chaperone?” His voice had taken on a begging quality.
For whatever reason that suggestion earned him a shiver of distaste, but she only answered curtly, “I need no chaperone.”
He swallowed as panic rose in his throat.
Alone with her the entire trip to Scotland?
It wasn’t that he feared he would do something inappropriate. He was a gentleman despite his reputation. He was in no danger of losing his wits and doing something disreputable. Especially since it was quite clear she wouldn’t welcome his attentions.
But her reputation…
“But you are a young lady.” He gestured to the otherwise empty carriage to make his point.
“Not so young,” she muttered, clearly not comprehending the issue.
“We cannot travel alone to the end of the block let alone all the way to Scotland. Your reputation would be ruined.” He couldn’t believe he, of all people, needed to explain such things to a woman of gentle birth.
She laughed, and though it was brittle and cold, it brightened her face and drew his attention to her full lips. She was quite lovely when she wasn’t scowling at him like a wet kitten. He found that he wanted to hear the sound of her laughter without the cynical edge.
“What would someone like you know or care about a woman’s reputation except for how to ruin it?” She shook her head and continued her intense inspection out the opposite window. Did she plan to look out that window the entire time? She’d get a terrible crick in her neck if so.
Not that he cared about her neck or anything else of hers. She was nothing but a bitter harpy and he dreaded being with her almost enough to call off the trip. But he wouldn’t.
As much as he didn’t want to spend another minute with Miss Elaina Bantham, he couldn’t give up his dream of a final adventure. For that reason alone, he would endure.
He frowned back at her, dropping his usual smile others found charming.
“I’ll have you know, I have never so much as shaded the reputation of an innocent. Yes, I might dally with women who are interested in the same, but I do not prey on young misses and seduce them to ruin.”
He’d sounded rather snappish in his defense, but rather than be cowed, she rolled her eyes and made a sound that could only be described as pfft.
“You don’t believe me?”
She waved dismissively in his direction which only irked him more.
“I assure you whatever I believe doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am not intimidated by you. There is nothing you could ever do that would risk my reputation. Mostly because I don’t find you appealing or the least bit charming.”
Lies. He could tell by the way she’d glanced away when she said it. He wouldn’t mention the way she’d gawked at him lasciviously at the tailors. And if the word lascivious was not quite accurate, there was no harm in a bit of embellishment.
His lips crooked up slightly at the memory. She was lovely with a blush on her cheeks. That moment before fiery anger returned to her eyes, he could almost envision how she would look up at her lover with desire in those brown pools of melted chocolate.
He cleared his throat and shook off the thought. It wouldn’t do to be caught up in a fantasy when facing down an opponent as cunning as Miss Bantham.
However alluring she might be in his mind from the tiny snippets he’d seen when her walls were down, he couldn’t be distracted. He knew himself well enough to know it was only the fact he wasn’t able to win her over that made her interesting at all. If she’d smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, he would have been satisfied and could have moved on without another thought.
It was only that she obviously disliked him and he didn’t know why that made her a mystery he couldn’t let rest. But he needed to. Why should he care about her at all?
If she didn’t care about her reputation, then why should he? He allowed the door to be shut and settled in for the duration.
Oddly enough, he didn’t feel confined as he usually did when traveling in a carriage. Travel was usually uncomfortable for someone of his size, but he found he had ample room. His knees were close to hers, but not touching. Clearly the carriage had been made for someone of their stature in mind.
At least he would be comfortable physically if mentally he was trapped.
Trapped…
He lurched forward to look into her startled eyes. Seeing her reaction piqued his anger even more. Did she honestly think he would thrust himself on her? Before they were even out of Town?
“You don’t plan to trap me into marriage, do you? For I tell you that plan will not work. It cannot.” He needed to marry a proper countess. Not the feisty daughter of a vicar who didn’t even have a lady’s maid.
If he’d thought he’d wanted to see her laughing, he’d been granted his wish. The woman practically rolled off her seat for laughing so much. Twice she attempted to speak and couldn’t for getting caught up in another fit of mirth.
He straightened his coat while he waited. The idea wasn’t that ridiculous. Plenty of women would jump at the opportunity to coerce an attachment to an earl. Perhaps not him specifically since it had not happened to date, but still, he had a title and his teeth, and…
Good God, this is what the woman had reduced him to?
By the time she was done, she seemed exhausted, but the smile remained.
“My, I haven’t laughed like that in a very long time.”
“Might I say that despite it being aimed at me, I find your laughter delightful.”
And the smile was gone instantly.
“We will be in each other’s company for the next two months. Perhaps we should come to an agreement, so the time is not spent in immense irritation,” she offered with a tilt of her head.
“I have been the very picture of gentlemanly behavior.” When the scowl returned with a vengeance, he quickly backtracked in the hope she wouldn’t bury his body on some muddy road on the way to Scotland. “What do you propose?”
“I assure you; I am not attempting to trap you in marriage. In fact, if it were up to me, I would much prefer not to have you accompany me on this journey at all. But since I am to be saddled with you, please refrain from offering empty platitudes or attempting to sway my favor with your relentless efforts to be charming.”
He opened his mouth and shut it, then repeated the process three more times before gathering enough of his thoughts to form a coherent response.
“You actually despise me.” He blinked as a feeling he hadn’t felt since his father was alive slithered over his skin. Disapproval. Rejection.
“Clearly,” she answered and focused on the view out the window as they made their way to the edge of the city. He still had time to abort this mission and run home, away from her judgement and the pain of being found lacking.
But he was no longer a child who ran away from things that troubled him. Especially not irksome women whose opinions didn’t count for anything.
He would not allow her to chase him away from something he truly wanted.
And what he wanted was to go to Egypt.
He needed an adventure before he was leg-shackled to some proper society chit who would bore him into an early grave with discussions of the weather and high fashion.
This expedition would be the highlight of his life. The thing he would look back on and say, “I did something amazing, before I sacrificed my love of adventure to take care of the people who depended on me.”
He leaned closer, resting his hands on his knees so he could look into her eyes with the utmost seriousness.
“Did I personally do something to earn your contempt, or do you hate all men?”
“You truly do not remember me, do you?” Her eyes went wide.
“Should I?”
He realized immediately that his retort wounded her. He should have been pleased. He’d scored a hit after taking a barrage from her. But he was anything but pleased to see the pain cut across her face.
Her eyes glistened and for a moment he worried she might actually cry, but he should have known Miss Bantham wouldn’t succumb to something as mundane as human emotions.
“No. I guess you shouldn’t remember me.”
She pulled the walls up as one would shrug a cloak closer on a cold day.
He allowed her to retreat and tend to the wound he’d unknowingly inflicted. He needed a moment as well. Had they met before? They must have for this was personal for her. He had hurt her in some way and not even realized it.
He was sure enough in his honor to know anything she might have considered an insult could not be so serious. He’d never forced a woman for so much as a kiss, he’d never spread mistruths, he’d never lured an innocent to wickedness.
He was not guilty of any of the horrid sins that happened in the shadows of a ballroom when the ton was otherwise distracted.
He felt sure he had done nothing to injure her, yet he reached out and took her hand, glad he still wore his gloves since she did not. He was sure touching her skin to skin wouldn’t help the situation at all.
“I am truly sorry for whatever I might have done to cause you distress, Miss Bantham.”
She pressed her lips together and looked everywhere but at him for a moment. She put her other hand out on the wall of the carriage as if to steady herself.
Finally, she pulled her hand from his and nodded once.
“Perhaps we should focus on our excavation of the ruins in Scotland.” The smile she offered was strained to the point of breaking, but she held strong and he did something he so rarely did. He offered her a smile as well.
The smile itself wasn’t a rarity for he was hardly without it while in the company of other people. But this pull of his lips was offered with sincerity.
Somehow, she seemed to detect the difference when so many others—even perhaps his best friends—did not.
“I would be happy to do so,” he easily agreed.
With a stiff nod and a look that held no hint of her former scowl, she began telling him what he should expect when they arrived at the site.
He was absolutely enthralled with her knowledge. When she shared the names of the tools he’d purchased and what each of them were used for, he nearly wanted to kiss her.
No nearly about it.
She was lovely when she was discussing something she was passionate about. Her understanding of archaeology was vast and probably more than he needed to know, but he listened and asked what he hoped were informed questions.
She didn’t belittle his inquiries, rather she seemed to appreciate his interest.
“When was the last time you were home?” she asked quietly when their conversation had dwindled to silence.
Home. She meant Scotland.
He smiled. “Just a few months ago. My friend Hale and his wife just had a child, and I came to welcome her properly as her Uncle Julian.”
She looked confused as if he’d broken the mold she’d fit him into.
Instead of asking more personal questions, she went back to speaking of digging in the dirt. Twice they’d even shared a joke.
By the time they stopped that evening, he felt they were well on their way to friendship.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d engaged in such exhilarating conversation with a woman. Since he’d been old enough to learn of the more intimate allure of women, most of his interactions had been with a singular goal in mind.
But with Miss Bantham he made sure not to do anything that would be considered flirting. He didn’t want her to think he was attempting to sway her with seduction. And, in truth, his original plan to charm her had transformed into a determination to befriend her.
He genuinely liked her.
And wasn’t that sure to be a horrible mistake?