The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,86

hand instinctively reaching for hers and placing it again on his arm, “it appears I do remember certain events after all.”

He caught her smile, but she said nothing more. In the dining room, two plates were set before them almost immediately, along with a pot of tea and his blessed coffee. He tucked into his meal. It would be hours before their next stop, and then another half day of travel until they reached Devon.

He didn’t think that was at all the reason he was famished.

Elizabeth ate in dainty bites compared to his shovelfuls of eggs and kippers, but when he looked up again, her plate was clear. She sipped at her tea. Over the rim, her eyes traveled around the room. It shouldn’t have surprised him that she’d enjoy watching strangers go about their morning. Londoners like themselves were naturally drawn to people. Certainly, he spent enough time at Will’s doing the exact same thing that he couldn’t help but feel a kinship with her for it.

“Anyone of interest?” He set down his fork and took up his coffee. Bliss.

“That depends on who you find interesting.”

“Maybe I want to know who you find interesting.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She smiled, not taking her eyes from whatever had caught her attention. He looked over his shoulder and immediately saw a young mother attempting to feed two unruly children at a trestle table in the corner of the room.

“It looks like she could use some help,” he observed, and didn’t miss the flash of approval Elizabeth shot him. He sat taller in his seat. He might never know why she’d finally unbent for him, but by God, it felt good to see her appreciate him at last.

She suddenly became intent upon the act of pouring out another cup of tea. “What are we about today, my lord?” she asked without looking up at him, for spooning sugar into her tea was apparently too absorbing to share her attention with him. “More driving, I suppose.”

He savored the satisfaction of her being shy around him. She saw him. As a man, not a pawn. “We have a full day of driving left. I trust you’re up to it?”

Her tea must be syrup by now. She sipped from it and he laughed when she pulled a face. “What?” she asked.

He grinned and shook his head. “Nothing. Today will be a dull day indeed, but you may look forward to tomorrow. We’ll ride out to the canal then and see what there is to see.” He didn’t divulge his skepticism with that. If her solicitor thought he should see the project himself, then he would go, but in all truthfulness, he didn’t feel the least optimistic about it.

She took another sip of tea, grimaced, and topped off her teacup from the pot. “Have you decided where we’ll stay?”

“Now that I don’t know. There is an inn in Brixcombe, the Hound and Hen, but…” He didn’t like the idea of taking Elizabeth to such a public place, where she would be vulnerable to the open stares and scandalized judgment of his neighbors. Just like here, but with people he knew.

“If I might make a suggestion,” she said, and he almost laughed aloud. Since when had she been bashful about offering her opinion? Did she see him as a partner now, rather than a hired mercenary who could be ordered around?

He gestured for her to continue. “Please do.”

“Lord and Lady Trestin have a small cottage on the outskirts of town. I believe it was once the vicarage. We may be able to stay there, with only a small inconvenience to Lord Trestin.”

Ah, there was the wily Elizabeth he’d come to esteem.

“The vicarage, you say? You don’t mean the old Amherst property? Isn’t that a crumbling ruins of a place?”

An emotion he couldn’t quite identify flashed across her face. Sadness? Anger? Disappointment? “It was, but not anymore. Lady Trestin and I put it to rights earlier this year.” Another vulnerable flicker of melancholy. “I believe we’d be welcome there. Lord Trestin might even be persuaded to send down a few servants, if you asked it of him.” She regarded Con expectantly.

He couldn’t possibly afford the upkeep of an entire cottage even for a few days, with personal servants, too, but she looked so hopeful that he set aside his apprehension. “I’ll send a runner ahead of us. I suppose we should kick on, then, if we’re to arrive before dinner. Lord Trestin is notoriously fixed on taking