Never Trust a Rebel. Sarah Mallory

chilliest demeanour and placed the very tips of her fingers on his sleeve as they set off through the busy streets. She was aware of the attention they were attracting. She acknowledged politely the sly smiles and nods of her many acquaintances but ignored their knowing looks. She noted too the admiring glances that were cast at her escort. His height immediately drew the eye, and there was no denying that his figure was good. It showed to advantage in his russet coat of superfine wool with its silver-gilt buttons. There was no creasing or straining of the material across his broad shoulders or where it tapered gently to his waist before flaring out, and even then a vent in the heavy folds allowed his sword to pass through without marring the elegant lines. In normal circumstances she would have been very pleased to be seen on the arm of such a handsome gentleman, but the circumstances were far from normal and she could not forget his odious behaviour towards her the previous evening. He interrupted her reverie by remarking with a laugh in his voice,

      ‘It behoves us to have some conversation, Miss Salforde.’

      ‘I did not realise I was obliged to entertain you.’

      ‘To escort such a beautiful lady is entertainment enough.’

      She could not resist a glance at him as she said drily, ‘Trying to turn me up sweet, Mr Bastion?’

      ‘Could I do so?’

      The glint in his eyes challenged her and she fought down the impulse to smile back at him. Instead she looked away and said in an indifferent tone, ‘You have certainly charmed my aunt.’

      ‘I have no doubt she is relieved to have someone share the responsibility for your guardianship. You must be a sad trial to her.’

      ‘That is not it at all,’ she retorted, nettled. ‘I am not the least trouble, I assure you. In fact I am of great use to her.’

      ‘Oh?’

      ‘I practically run the household.’

      ‘You rule the roost.’

      ‘No, not at all, I—’ She bit her lip. ‘You are making a May-game of me, sir.’

      He merely laughed at that, and as they had arrived at the circulating library she said no more.

      Mr Frear, the library’s elderly owner was behind the counter and immediately came forward, his friendly greeting balm to Elyse’s wounded pride. She handed back her books and explained that she would not be requiring more.

      ‘Ah yes, I have heard that you are leaving us,’ he declared. ‘Your going will be a sad loss to the town, Miss Salforde.’

      ‘By heaven, word travels quickly.’

      ‘It does indeed, sir, when it concerns Scarborough’s brightest star,’ replied Mr Frear gallantly.

      Elyse glanced up at the gentleman beside her. That should show him she was held in some esteem here. And he could not accuse her of flirting with old Mr Frear.

      * * *

      Her errand complete and spirits raised somewhat by her reception at the circulating library, Elyse and her companion set off back towards Aunt Matthews’s house in Northfield Square. Her escort behaved with such civil courtesy that she was emboldened to try once more to delay their departure.

      ‘Is it imperative that we quit Scarborough tomorrow, Mr Bastion? Surely an extra day would make no odds.’

      ‘We may need that extra day if the weather should turn. We are a long way from London, Miss Salforde. I would have thought you impatient to see Mr Reverson again.’

      ‘I am, of course.’

      She could not avoid the heartbeat’s hesitation before making her reply. Marriage to William had been her future for so long that she had come to take it for granted, but the knowledge that she would soon be making her home with William’s family was a little frightening. After all, they were almost strangers, even William. She had not forgotten the pleasure of dancing with him, the elation she had felt at his shy proposal, the thrill of the chaste kisses they had exchanged in secret, but they had been together for such a short time.

      William had left Scarborough soon after they had become engaged. Elyse had been heartbroken for a week, but then she had settled down to life as one of the belles of the town, happy in the knowledge that she need not join the other young ladies in their scramble to make a suitable alliance. It amused her each Season to watch them pursuing their quarry at the routs and assemblies but she envied none of them their husbands. Apart from headstrong Jenny Malden who had eloped with an actor and been disowned by her family, they had all married sensibly and although they all appeared to be happy enough, not one of them had married for love, which is what she would be doing, as well as marrying into one of the highest families in the land. How could she not be proud of her achievement?

      She said, more confidently, ‘I cannot wait to be with William again. I received a letter from him only recently begging me to come with all speed.’

      ‘Is he a regular correspondent?’

      ‘He writes to me when he can. He is very busy.’

      She would not tell him that it was the first letter she had received in months.

      ‘But you have not seen him for three years.’ He paused. ‘A person can change a great deal in that time.’

      ‘Not William.’

      ‘And what of you? Are you the same young lady you were when Reverson proposed?’

      ‘Of course.’

      He stopped and turned to face her. ‘Are you sure of that?’

      Elyse frowned, angered that he should question her in this manner. Of course she had not changed. But when she looked up to tell him so the words died on her lips. He was looking down at her with a glinting smile that sent all thoughts of William out of her head. When their eyes locked she felt a tremor of something she did not understand run through her body. Heat pooled deep inside and her heart began to thud most uncomfortably in her chest. She felt suddenly breathless and wanted to look away from those disturbing blue eyes. They seemed to see into her very soul and read her most secret thoughts. Not only that, they encouraged new and uncomfortable ideas to form.

      She dragged her eyes away but even then they only moved to his mouth and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him. She did not doubt that he was very experienced and the thought made the heat deep in her belly curl even deeper. A little thrill of anticipation trembled through her, followed quickly by the knowledge that even thinking of such things was a betrayal of William. Heavens, how could she be so disloyal? In three years she had never before felt like this. She was shocked, and frightened.

      Elyse pulled her hand from his arm and turned away, unnerved by his presence and even more so by her reaction. Northfield Square was in sight and she could see her aunt’s house on the far side. She hurried towards it, not caring whether he accompanied her. In fact she would very much prefer it if he did not. She soon realised he was keeping pace with her but she refused to look at him and did not stop until she had reached the door of her aunt’s house. Only then did she turn and force herself to confront him. There was no laughter in his eyes now when they regarded her, no mischievous glint, only a frowning look. She wondered if she had disappointed him and realised how much she did not want that to be the case.

      ‘Of—of course I have changed,’ she said defiantly. ‘I am older and—and a woman. I am ready now for marriage.’

      ‘You are certainly that, Miss Salforde,’ he retorted. ‘And I pity your husband.’

      She stared at him, outraged that he should say such a thing, but without another word he swept off his hat, made her an elegant bow and strode away.

      * * *

      By the time Drew reached his lodgings his sudden flash of ill humour had abated. It was not the chit’s fault that he found her so damned desirable. He had thought he had himself well under control. Granted he had teased her a little, just for the pleasure of it, but