CHAPTER 13
CLIFTON
I was relieved that Diana wasn’t the type of woman who made constant demands.
With each mile we traveled, it became increasingly clear that she wasn’t one of those frivolous women who complained about every inconvenience.
The type who were tolerable only in short bursts.
Despite the fact I’d been smart enough to limit my romantic encounters to women who wouldn’t demand more than I was willing to give, it would have been a special kind of hell to find myself bound in marriage to one of them.
While I found Diana’s patience admirable, I couldn’t help but feel like a monster every time she cringed when the carriage drove over a rut. There was a peaked look in her eyes that had me convinced she was suffering from a headache, but she never complained.
Thankfully, this stage of the trip wasn’t long, and we were pulling into the next inn by midday. I descended first and turned to help Diana from the carriage. She’d raised her hood again, and anyone seeing the two of us would know exactly what was happening.
Not that we were on our way to Gretna Green, necessarily, but that the young woman accompanying me was trying to conceal her identity.
I saw the glances cast in our direction, but the curious onlookers did nothing more than take note of the situation.
The sight was common enough at coaching inns, after all.
I exchanged a few words with the driver to let him know we’d be proceeding as originally planned. With a nod, he moved to the back of the carriage and unfastened the smaller portmanteau Moreland’s staff had packed.
I took the leather bag and moved to stand next to Diana.
She glanced at me, her curiosity clear, then her gaze swung back to the carriage when it began to pull away.
Instead of waiting for the stable hands to change the horses, the carriage made its way back to the road. The four outriders followed it.
Diana frowned. “Where are they going? Surely the carriage isn’t going to leave us here without the trunks?”
I examined her features. She was squinting now, but since the day was overcast, it wasn’t bright here. Which meant my suspicion was correct, and she did have a headache.
“We’re going to travel by post chaise from here. It will shorten the travel time significantly, and anyone asking about my carriage will be following it along a circuitous route back to my estate.”
Her nose scrunched. “And what about the highwaymen? Won’t we need the outriders? My aunt always made a great deal of fuss about the risk of being robbed while traveling to London.”
Of course she did. I wasn’t surprised to learn that Diana’s aunt was melodramatic. “We’ll be taking the Great North Road. With all the posting inns along the way, traffic will be steady. Highwaymen are more likely to be found in novels.”
She nodded, a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “I concede your superior knowledge on the subject. And I must congratulate you on your plan to throw pursuers off our trail.”
I inclined my head. “I thought it wise. You should also know that the driver is carrying a letter I composed to my mother, telling her about our elopement.”
Diana winced. “I hope she won’t think ill of me.”
“My mother adores you. She will be ecstatic when she learns we’re marrying. She’ll survive the disappointment of not being able to plan the wedding.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she said, a wistfulness in her tone.
I knew for a fact that my mother would be overcome with joy.
She’d started dropping hints about how nice it would be to have a grandson or granddaughter and about how she hoped she wouldn’t have to wait too much longer before that happened.
She knew better than to try to coerce me in that direction and hadn’t pressed, but this would definitely be a pleasant surprise.
“I’m going to see you settled inside first before I speak to them about our travel arrangements.”
“Are you sure that’s wise? I can wait in the yard while they prepare the post chaise.”
I shook my head. “We’ll need to stay here for a few hours. It shouldn’t be an issue if we have that head start before your guardians notice your absence.”
Her smile was genuine but strained, convincing me this was the best choice. “It will be nice to be still for a little while.”
We made our way into the inn, where I was greeted by the innkeeper’s son.
This wasn’t the first time I’d stayed at this inn while traveling between my estate and London, but it was the first time I wasn’t alone.
I requested a room for the afternoon because my companion wasn’t feeling well and informed him that we needed to head out again by post chaise before sundown.
Then I handed him a generous sum of money.
He slipped the coins into a pocket. “Of course, my lord. I will make the arrangements. You can rest assured that you won’t be disturbed.”
I had no doubt he thought we would spend the afternoon making love, but it didn’t matter as long as no one knew who I was with. That assumption would be better than anyone suspecting I was escaping London to spirit a well-bred young woman away to Gretna Green.
“One more thing,” I said. “If anyone asks about me in particular, you are to tell them I left with my carriage.”
I handed him a small pouch, the coins within jingling.
His eyes widened briefly, but he tucked that pouch away and bowed. “Of course, my lord. I saw you depart myself.”
We followed the young man upstairs to a room at the back of the inn. When he left, I locked the door and placed the portmanteau next to the bed.
Diana was staring at the bed, then her gaze returned to me. She licked her lower lip, and I felt my desire stir. Reminding myself that she had a headache, I pushed it aside. There would be enough time for all of that later.
“Are we going to—” she asked, her eyes returning to the bed.
“No.”
Her shoulders sagged with what I assumed was relief. She lowered her gaze. “Of course not. You don’t want that from me.”
I reached out to cup her chin and guided her face up to mine. “Make no mistake, Diana. We are going to have a real marriage. But I won’t take you, and especially not for the first time, when you so clearly are in pain.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
I stroked a finger along one temple. “You’ve been squinting, and for the last hour, you winced every time the carriage went over a rut. You need to rest for a little while. Hopefully you’ll feel better when it’s time to go, but it’s not safe to tarry long.”
She swallowed thickly then took a step back. I allowed my hand to drop, feeling oddly disappointed.
“It’s not so bad. It’s just that I’ve been wearing my hair up for so long, and when it’s bound tightly…” She shrugged. “It makes my scalp ache.”
I tilted my head to one side, taking in her hairstyle. I’d never considered how a woman’s scalp could hurt in such a situation, but her explanation made sense. She reached up to begin pulling out pins, but when she winced, I pushed her hands away.
“Allow me.”
She smiled, amused. “Of course, my lord. I’m sure I’m not the first woman whose hair you’ve taken down.”
I said nothing to that. It was true, after all, and there would be no point in trying to convince her I was a saint.
I began pulling pins, and the more I pulled, the more I found. “How many of these deuced things are in here?”
“My hair is quite thick. It requires a lot to keep it up.”
When I got to the innermost layers of her hair, I could see that she hadn’t told me the full truth.
Yes, her hair was pulled back tightly, but several of the pins were digging into her scalp.
I could even feel slight indentations. I wanted to chastise her for doing that to herself.
No, that wasn’t quite true. I wanted to throttle her aunt and uncle for torturing her in such a manner.
But I suppose in this case, I was the one most at fault because she’d worn it this way throughout the night, much longer than she normally would have.
Finally, when I stepped back, all her hair tumbled about her shoulders, down to the middle of her back. Unable to stop myself, I sank my fingers into the thick mass, amazed by just how much of it there was. “Has your hair always been this thick?”
Her voice was strangely tight when she replied. “Yes, normally there’s a curl to it, but when it’s pulled back so tightly, most of that disappears.”
The desire to see her hair newly washed and curled about her shoulders, flowing down her back in waves, surprised me. “Come over to the window.”
She turned her head to glance at me, an odd expression on her face, but didn’t protest. I continued to shift through the thick tresses. Strands of deep auburn were threaded throughout the brown.
She looked up at me and with the bright light from outside, her pupils had contracted.
The ring of brown around the dark center was much smaller now, and I could see the green more clearly.
Together with the red threaded through her hair, the combination gave her the air of someone who could easily bewitch me. I found myself swallowing thickly.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, stepping back and massaging her scalp. “I think I’ll just lay down for a little while. How long do we have?”
“Three hours,” I said, ignoring the desire to swat her hands away and sink my fingers into her hair again. “We can’t risk staying longer than that. I’ll leave you now and go downstairs to make sure everything is arranged for the next leg of our journey.”
She grabbed my arm before I could turn away. “Clifton, you need to rest as well.”
I turned back to look at her. “I will. Lay down for a little bit. I’m going to go speak to the innkeeper.
Make sure that they’re following my instructions and that nothing will go awry.
Most importantly, I need to put the fear of God into them.
If my name won’t do it, I’ll drop Rexford’s.
Let them know how displeased he’d be if word got out that this inn can’t be trusted to guard their clients’ privacy. ”
She smiled fully then, light coming into her eyes, and I found my chest constricting. How was it possible that this beautiful woman standing in front of me right now was the same cautious wallflower I’d convinced to run away with me?
“I have no doubt that invoking Rexford’s name will terrify them.”
I put a hand to my chest in mock outrage. “I am wounded that you think they wouldn’t be afraid of me.”
She laughed softly and made her way to the bed. She moved to the far side and sat on the edge. She turned slightly to look at me over her shoulder. “Thank you for everything, Clifton.”
I nodded, incapable of speech, and watched as she lay on the bed, her back to me. The long waves of her hair flowed across the counterpane.
Leaving the room was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.