her?
Out of breath and flustered, Jennie burst into the room. “Oh, ma’am, are you ready? Mr. St. James says all is prepared and they only wait for you.”
“Yes.” She busied herself pulling on her gloves and fussing with the cuffs. “Have you taken down everything?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Jennie was almost dancing.
“Then let’s go.” Bianca closed the window and secured the latch.
She came out into the courtyard, where the wagon was waiting with the baggage. Jennie scrambled up onto the seat beside Matthew, waving at the servants who were not going. Ellen lifted a hand morosely, but Mary swung her arm, and Timmy from the stables waved his hat at her. With a jolt Matthew started the horses, lurching down the rutted lane.
Bianca turned to her husband, brow furrowed. “I thought we were to ride with Matthew as well.”
“Did you?” He made a face. “I’d rather not ride a wagon from here to Marslip Green, let alone to Stoke on Trent.”
“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” she began, but something flickered over his face.
“It’s worse,” he said in a low voice, then immediately cocked his head and smiled. “No fit way for a lady to travel. I made other arrangements.” As he spoke, the stable boy pulled up in the gig.
Bianca drew a tense breath. The gig was what they used for short trips into Marslip, or the slightly larger, somewhat more distant town of Burslem. The seat was well padded but small; she and Cathy fit comfortably, but Max was larger than either of them, and she was wearing her thick wool traveling skirt today. They would be pressed up against each other the entire way to Stoke on Trent.
“The gig’s not meant for such a distance,” she tried to argue.
“But it will serve.” The stable boy jumped down and Max walked over to check the harness.
Bianca chewed the inside of her lip and thought hard. The gig would be more comfortable than the wagon. Even if they’d ridden in the wagon, she and Max would likely have been squashed together amidst the trunks. She was probably being silly, just because she didn’t want to touch him.
Touch was the line she had promised herself she would not cross. It was ridiculous to pretend she could survive this marriage without speaking to the man, and once they were speaking, it might as well be cordial. She could admit he was intelligent and could have some good ideas about Perusia. It was even acceptable to find him amusing from time to time.
But his smoldering good looks hadn’t diminished, not even when he wore his little wire-rimmed spectacles and let his hair curl around his temples. Bianca was keenly aware that he was the beauty in their marriage. Whenever he smiled at her in that slow, seductive way he had, every time she caught his dark eyes lingering on her, she reminded herself that if she gave way and let him seduce her, he would have won everything: her father’s approval, a share of her business, her very person. A chaste, cordial marriage was the best she could hope for, and where she must hold her line.
He turned to her expectantly. The wagon was out of sight down the lane. If she wanted to go to London—and Bianca could admit that the idea had grown on her, quite a bit—she had to ride with him in the gig.
“It’s an extravagance,” she told him, coming forward. “Now Matthew will have to bring home the gig and the wagon, not to mention the inconvenience Aunt Frances will be put to if she requires a carriage, but since you’ve already done it, I suppose there’s no choice.”
“How kind of you to say so,” he said with amusement, holding out one hand.
Bianca let him help her up. She fussed with her skirts, discreetly pushing the bulk of the fabric to the side just as her husband settled into the seat beside her.
“Ready to be off?” he asked, holding the restive horse in check with one hand.
Bianca glanced at him, unsettled by how near he was. She could see the faint laugh lines around his eyes, and how smoothly shaven his cheek was. “Yes,” she said, curling her hand around the outer corner of the seat. Ready, and fully conscious that she would have to be on guard at all times.
And not just for the ride into Stoke on Trent.
Chapter Fifteen
It was by far the easiest journey Max had ever taken. What a difference money made.
He suspected Bianca