Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
For the third time in the last ten minutes, Rowena stifled a yawn, and tried not to sink deeper into the lush and comforting carriage as she was jostled along in the bright morning light.
The bed, if you could call it a bed, that had been offered by the inn was certainly nowhere near as comfortable as she had been accustomed to, and she fought down another yawn as she looked around the carriage.
And caught Mr Paendly yawning too. She almost smiled to see him struggle to hide his tiredness from her, but a sharp thrill of guilt also rushed through her. After all, she did effectively bully him into sleeping in this carriage, and it must have been even less restful than her own repose.
An image flashed across her mind: the sight of Mr Paendly all curled up in this coach, in a small ball on one side. A broad smile swept unbidden across her face.
“What are you smiling about?”
Startled, Rowena hid the smile – but not quickly enough. Mr Paendly was staring at her with a curious look on his face, and he had definitely caught her grinning.
“There must be a reason for such a beautiful woman to smile,” Mr Paendly continued, and Rowena felt heat once again across her cheeks.
It had been awkward enough this morning, as she had come downstairs after breaking her fast alone, to find Mr Paendly stretching outside the carriage. Their eyes had met, and the flash of heat between them had made Rowena gasp under her breath.
The intensity of his look now almost drew out the same gasp. Trying to control herself, she murmured, “I am just looking forward to getting home, sir, that is all.”
She looked away, but knew that his gaze was still on her. A minute, perhaps two, passed in silence. And then –
“Tell me,” came Mr Paendly’s voice, but it was more gentle now, softer, with none of the grit of the day before. Rowena could not help but tilt her head to behold him as he continued. “Exactly how did you manager to get yourself stuck at a coaching inn, alone, with no means of returning home?”
Rowena looked into his pale blue eyes, and hesitated. She could not entirely put her finger on it, and if someone had asked her to explain it, she would not have been able to, but something in her told her that she could trust him.
Mr Paendly smiled, and the smile reached his eyes and softened them, causing crinkles to appear around them. “You can trust me.”
She swallowed, and opened her mouth – and at that precise instant the coach jerked heavily to the left and it tilted wildly, and not before it righted itself did Rowena Kerr find herself falling across the coach.
Breath knocked out off her, heart fluttering, head swimming, Rowena was conscious only of the strength of his arms, the way that he held her steady, the heat of his chest as she leaned against him, her fingers, unsure where to settle, and her heart beat faster as she became more aware of where she was.
Nestled into Mr Paendly’s arms.
“C-Careful, Miss Kirkland.”
Rowena did not need to see his face to hear the juddering control that Mr Paendly was attempting to keep as he helped her back to her seat.
She hid her face from him, flushed as it was at the closeness that they had just experienced, but she could not help but glance over at him as she busied herself with tidying her skirts.
There was an unsettled look on his face, something between hope and disappointment. Rowena fought down the wish that he found her beautiful. Why should it matter? Why should she care what this Mr Paendly thought of her; what was he to her?
Thoughts of wild kisses overwhelmed her mind, and Rowena shook her head and screwed her eyes tight. This was not the time to daydream.
Two loud bangs made her jump, and she looked up to see that her travelling companion had hit on the roof.
“By Jove, Smith, what the hell is going on?”
Hurried footsteps preceded the appearance at the door of Smith, looking just as rattled as Rowena felt.
“I apologise, my lord, a large dip in the road for which I was unprepared – ”
“I was rattled about like a jack in the box in here!”
“My apologies, my lord, but it seems as though,” and here Rowena saw Smith swallow and cast his eyes down, as though unable to face his master as he spoke, “we may have to take a longer route.”
Silence sat uncomfortably for a moment as Mr Paendly glared at his servant – and something twinged in Rowena’s mind that did not make sense. What was it?
“Longer route,” repeated Mr Paendly.
Smith shuffled his feet and Rowena heard the splatter of the mud as he did so. “Yes, my lord. The river, it is still swollen and more so after last night’s rain. We will have to go further along to reach the nearest bridge, my lord.”
That was it, thought Rowena, startled. My lord. Why does Smith keep calling Mr Paendly ‘my lord’? Unless…unless he is no Mr Paendly at all, no more than I am Rebecca Kirkland. But why would he lie?
“…nothing for it,” Mr Paendly was saying with a severe look on his face. “But I want a smooth ride, Smith, there is a gentlelady in here who does not want to arrive at her destination scrambled like an egg!”
With muttered apologies and much bowing of the head, Smith retreated back to his station and within a moment, the carriage was moving once more.
There was a loud sigh, and Rowena could not help herself. She looked up.
“I must make my own apologies, Miss Kirkland,” Mr Paendly shook his head as he spoke. “I am afraid the weather is rather against us, but never fear. We shall make it, but we are going to have to go the long way around.”
Rowena nodded, knowing that any word she spoke would immediately betray her disappointment, but she was evidently not circumspect enough.
“I understand your disappointment, truly,” he said gently. “But were you not about to say something before we were… well...interrupted?”
It was impossible to prevent a slight blush from overwhelming her cheeks at the very thought of telling this Mr Paendly what had happened.
Rowena bit her lip. There was something about this man: something that encouraged confidences, without words, without cajoling, without wheedling it out of her.
Something about the way that he was: she trusted him completely, and she had no real notion why.
Rowena took a deep breath. Mr Bentley had been going in a different direction, so he would not be held up by this dratted river. He would probably be home by now. He may already have informed his family, his acquaintances. There was surely no harm in revealing the truth now.
Tempting as it was to close her eyes or look away from Mr Paendly as she spoke, Rowena blinked and gazed at him directly. “I was eloping.”
Shock, surprise, and a little horror flashed across his face, and she almost smiled at the visceral reaction that she saw in him. My, but men were all the same really. Society could tell her that it was she that was the gentler sex, but that did not match her experiences in the world.
“El-eloping?” Mr Paendly spluttered. “Eloping, Miss Kirkland?”
Rowena nodded. “As shocking as this may seem, it does occasionally happen – particularly when one or both of the parties in question have reasons to leave families behind in order to form the union.”
The coach was moving smoothly now, and her companion was leaning back in his seat with wonder on his face.
“Eloping,” he repeated.
Rowena coloured slightly, and felt the heat of embarrassment rise up in her. “Yes, eloping. I thought that…that I loved Mr Bentley, and he told me that he loved me too.”
Mr Paendly snorted, and she shot a dark glare at him.
“And why,” she said severely, “is it so surprising that anyone would love me, and wish to marry me?”
She saw at once that he regretted his instinctual opinion, but there was still something about the way that he was looking at her that made her uncomfortable.
Cheeks slightly darkened, Mr Paendly said quietly, “‘Tis of no surprise to me that anyone would wish to marry you, Miss Kirkland. I suppose what does surprise me is that you are evidently not married. Something went wrong.”
Unable to help herself, Rowena moved her hands to cover the left, conscious of the absence of a ring on her fourth finger. She nodded stiffly, and glanced out of the window.
It was a fully minute before she spoke again.
“We arrived at the church too late yesterday. The vicar told us that if we had been there but five minutes earlier, it would have been sufficient, but we had no choice but to find a coaching inn for the night. Oscar…Mr Bentley took a little too much wine that evening, and admitted to me that far from being the love match that I had supposed, our marriage was just a means for him to…to claim his fortune.”
It was Mr Paendly’s gasp that made her turn away from the window and look back at him, and Rowena was astonished to see what looked like genuine concern on his face.
“Fortune?”
Rowena nodded. “Mr Oscar Bentley, you understand, is the younger brother of Mr Benjamin Bentley, of Old Ashton. He is without children, and fifteen years older than his brother. If Mr Oscar Bentley marries and has a son…”
Mr Paendly’s eyes were wide now, but Rowena could not tell whether he was shocked at the revelation that she had eloped, astonished at the reasons that Mr Bentley had attempted to marry her, or revolted that the elopement had not even taken place.
“I am worth far more than that,” Rowena said fiercely, her hands now bunching into fists. “I am more than my ability to bear a child, and I told him so. We stayed at the coaching inn last night, and I have waited all day for a coach to take me home as…as soon as possible.”