to more privileged and more civilized men than I."
"And your last name?"
"And yours?" he countered.
She pressed her lips together.
"Then simply Elise and Sterling it is," he said.
Curiosity overcame her. "Why did you tell me your name?"
He released his grip on the board above him and turned, presenting her with his strong, broad back. Muscles rippled as he bent to retrieve a shirt from the floor.
"I am an orphan as well," he admitted. "In that regard, there is no class distinction between us."
"Is that why you're here? Among these people? Living this life?"
Shrugging into the shirt, he turned. "I am here because this is where I wish to be, and we are not discussing me. I am not the intruder inside this wagon."
Elise was determined to convince him that her plight was one of honest threat. "My uncle is responsible for making the match. He is aware that by placing me at the mercy of the man who has agreed to pay my bride's price, he is also placing me in danger. The money is more important to him than I am, or ever will be. I am an embarrassment to him."
Sterling's gaze swept her again. "I see no physical fault with you. What is his complaint?"
When a man donned a shirt, even if it was a coarse garment, he should at least fasten the top three buttons, Elise thought. Sterling's shirt hung open, affording her the same view of his naked chest, only now his golden skin tones contrasted nicely against the light color of the shirt.
"My father disgraced his family by marrying for love. My mother came from a modest home. My grandfather was a tutor. I don't think my uncle ever forgave his brother for causing a scandal, and since my father is no longer available to ridicule, my uncle takes his resentment out upon me."
"A child should not be cursed by the sins of the father." The steely glint in his eyes had softened. Did that mean his heart had also softened?
"You cannot send me back," she pleaded. "Not to that dreadful man, the horrible fate that awaits me."
"What awaits you in Liverpool?"
She saw no help but to be truthful with him. "My aunt. I haven't been allowed to see her since my parents' deaths, but I believe she will take me in. She lives a modest life, I imagine, but I am not afraid of hard work. I have an education. I hope to find work as a governess."
"Governess?" A sarcastic grin shaped his lips. "Yes, that is hard work."
"Will you help me?" she persisted. "Will you allow me to travel with the caravan to Liverpool?"
"And what makes you think we are going to Liverpool?"
"Danny, my uncle's groom, said he overheard one of the players complaining of the long trek ahead, and of Liverpool as being one of the caravan's destinations."
"Well, 'tis true," he admitted. "But the journey is long. If you stay, you must earn your passage."
Hope sprang to life inside of her. "The money, what little I have, is yours."
He shook his head. "Keep your small stash guarded. You said that you were not afraid of hard work. We shall see."
Labor? Did he mean that she would fetch and carry? Perhaps cook and clean? Well, Elise was not accustomed to that type of labor, but she would manage.
"Agreed. I will work for my passage."
She thought a slight smile crossed his sensual mouth before he said, "I need to sleep. Tomorrow I will introduce you to the others. Allow me to do the talking."
Elise nodded, relieved that she would not be pitched outside the wagon into the darkness. But there was a problem. He needed rest and there was but one bed.
"I will sleep on the floor," she decided, although the prospect wasn't appealing. Nor did she imagine she would be able to sleep in the small wagon with a stranger, one who had already taken liberties with her. She started to rise, but he waved her back.
"I'll take the floor... for tonight," he added.
"For tonight" held an ominous ring. For tonight and then she would be forced to sleep on the floor? For tonight and then she would be forced to share his bed? He grabbed one of the blankets stacked neatly upon the cot and turned down the lantern.
After she heard him settle, Elise stretched out upon the cot. It would be a long night for her. If she made it through the dark hours until morning without being either murdered or molested,