The Disgraceful Mr. Ravenhurst Read online

  It probably meant he did not know who he was kissing. Perhaps he was deeply asleep and thought she was someone else. Was he dreaming of the woman he loved hopelessly, the reason he would not marry? Or Ana? It should have made a difference to how this felt, the rational part of her brain tried to say, but her body was taking not the slightest bit of notice.

  Theo’s hands came up to cup her face, to hold her still as he plundered her mouth. Pinned under him, she could feel his erection, thrillingly, terrifyingly large. Her own body was on fire now, melting, twisting, aching. Between her thighs she felt the moisture, understood hazily what it was preparing her for. All she knew was that she needed his hands on her, his body possessing her.

  He was not fully conscious, she was sure of that now. Was this the second chance, the opportunity to experience a man’s loving after her brush with death? If she was careful, did not speak, he might make love to her without even realising. Without knowing it is me. No.

  No, that was not how she wanted to be loved by Theo and it was wrong. It would be using him, just as shockingly as if he had seduced her while she lay asleep and unknowing.

  Elinor turned her head away from the seeking mouth and pushed at his shoulders, her hands meeting linen on one side, bare flesh on the other. He grumbled, low in his throat, like a big dog whose bone has been taken away, and she smiled despite herself.

  ‘Theo, Theo, wake up.’

  His eyes opened full on her face and she saw him go white, watched as the colour literally drained from under his skin as realisation struck him. ‘Nell. Nell, what the hell have I done?’ He threw himself away from her, hurling back the covers, and sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders bent, his back to her.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said prosaically. ‘You just kissed me, that’s all. It was very nice, but I thought I ought to wake you up because you obviously didn’t know who I was—’

  ‘That’s flattering for you, isn’t it?’ he said, back still turned, voice bitter.

  Lord, he is going to start blaming himself for this. I can hardly tell him nothing would have happened if I hadn’t tried to kiss him myself. ‘Theo, look, it is not as though we had made love last night, is it? I mean,’ she persisted, despite the fact that the back of his neck was becoming decidedly pink and her tongue was getting in a tangle, ‘if that had been the case, obviously I would have been insulted you didn’t remember who you were in bed with. But you were only in bed with me because I was frightened and it worked, I had a wonderful night’s sleep.’

  ‘Good. No dreams?’ He sounded slightly happier now. She wished he would turn round, then remembered what little he must be wearing and how his aroused body had felt against hers. Better to get out of the situation as smoothly as possible.

  ‘No dreams. What happened a moment ago, that was just, um, a reflex, I expect. I really don’t think of it as anything else.’ She turned over and pulled the covers up around her ears. ‘I’ll be lazy for a little longer while you go back to your own room. Could you ring for water?’

  ‘Right.’ She waited until the door closed, then sat up, arms round her knees, chin resting on top. It was a comfortable thinking position and she needed, above all, to think. Her body felt alarmingly alive, achingly unfulfilled. It was obvious that making love was pleasurable, otherwise people would not do it. But there was more to it than she had realised. It was as though Theo had been taking her body on a journey, but they never got there and that left a deep yearning for completion. Making love was apprently not like having a delicious meal where, provided one was not starving, one could stop after one course, having enjoyed a satisfactory experience. One needed to eat all the courses, or whatever the sexual equivalent was.

  Her plait was tangled in the neck of her overlarge nightgown and she pulled it out, nibbling the very tip in a manner that would have earned her a severe telling-off from her governess, who had cured her of that childish habit years ago. Obviously it was perfectly possible to go through life without experiencing physical love, it was just that it was becoming very clear to her that she did not want to.

  A few weeks ago she could have gone through life, aware she was missing something, quite happily. But now she knew Theo, knew she loved him, she did not want that ignorance. She wanted to know what it was she would never have.

  Men, it seemed, were quite happy to make love to women they didn’t love. So were some women—Ana, for example—but she had gathered that it was a very different emotional experience for the two sexes. So Theo might not be exactly appalled if she asked him. He might not guess her real reasons if he thought he had simply physically aroused her. After all, he had kissed her in the old quarry to answer her curiosity…

  ‘Just the once.’

  ‘Madame?’ The chambermaid stood in the doorway with a steaming jug of hot water. ‘I did knock, madame, but monsieur said to take the water in.’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Has monsieur ordered breakfast?’ Elinor smiled at the assurance it was all in hand and went back to brooding.

  But how to persuade him when he was fully awake and aware of what he was doing? And persuade him without him guessing why she wanted him. Would he accept that it was intellectual curiosity? Not that that was very flattering to him. She would just have to play it by ear when the opportunity arose.

  Breakfast was substantial. Elinor could not decide whether Theo was simply hungry or finding an excuse not to speak to her. His single-minded demolition of steak allowed her to study her emotions with a mind somewhat cleared by two cups of coffee.

  She loved Theo. She was not just in love with him, although she had not realised that these were two separate things until she experienced them both. He loved someone else, she was certain, someone perhaps from long ago. Certainly someone unobtainable. Despite that impetuous declaration on the hilltop, he obviously did not wish to marry her. Not when he was thinking clearly. He might want a companion, perhaps, but that was all.

  So whatever she did, she must not allow him to feel trapped. Elinor poured two more cups of coffee and pushed one over to Theo, then began to butter a slice of bread before realising she already had a neat stack of three pieces sitting on the plate. Theo accepted two of them with a nod of thanks and addressed himself to his food again while she spread preserves on the remainder.

  And becoming pregnant would certainly trap him. But there were ways to make love without that happening, she was certain. She had heard whispers. Bel had been Ashe’s lover for some time before their marriage and Bel was not a reckless woman. At least, she had not been until she fell in love. Theo would know.

  ‘What are you brooding about?’ he asked so suddenly she dropped her bread. ‘You look as though you have a knotty problem in translation to puzzle through.’

  ‘Things I want.’ It was a miracle that she had not blurted out, you, he had made her jump so.

  ‘Oh, shopping.’ Theo pushed back his plate. ‘We’ll stop in Arnay le Duc first thing, then push on to Mâcon for the night. Then it’s a relatively easy drive down to Lyon and after that Grenoble, the last stop before Maubourg.’ She nodded, reassured that she had three days to decide what to do, and how to do it. ‘You know what you want, then? Are you going to put it on the list?’

  ‘No. I’ll remember without any trouble.’ She looked up and smiled but Theo was already on his feet, ringing for the waiter.

  Arnay behind them, their valises reassuringly full of essentials, Theo sent the horses down the long road to Mâcon at a steady pace while Elinor packed things away and tried to snatch sketches from the bouncing seat.

  After lunch she climbed back up on the box again, ignoring the effect of wind and dust on her complexion and the hardness of the seat under her. ‘Why only a pair? Must we be careful with money?’

  ‘No. I thought we would be expected to take four, and in any case there is no great hurry. I could buy another pair, I suppose, and make up a team.’ He flicked the whip down to discourage a small pack of village dogs that had come tumbling and barking out o
f a farm gate. ‘I might do that after Lyon, the hills will be steeper.’

  ‘Is it difficult driving a pair?’ He was still only using one hand for the reins, his whip hand only coming across when he needed to loop a rein to take a corner. She frowned at his fingers, trying to work out what went where.

  ‘More difficult than a single horse, as you’d expect. Why? Do you want to drive?’ He turned his head to grin at her. ‘It will make your shoulders stiff.’

  ‘I’ll try for a bit. They seem steady enough.’

  ‘All right.’ He moved over to the right. ‘Come into the middle as much as possible—now open your hands.’

  It took five minutes of fumbling, and considerable confusion for the pair, before she was settled sitting snug against Theo, the length of his hip and thigh pressed against hers, his left arm round the back of her, resting on the rail. ‘I’ll keep the whip and help you with the reins when we come to a bend.’

  Somehow, as they bowled along, the Burgundian countryside unfolding green and gold on either side, the rows of vines stretching like the marks of a giant comb up every south-facing slope, his arm came up and round her shoulders and his right hand came over and guided hers more and more until they were driving together. There was no need to talk, no need to do anything but feel the companionship and the shared pleasure in what they were doing.

  It was like that first walk along the river bank. Theo would nudge her and she would look round to see a vivid patch of flowers in front of a cottage, or children playing tag in and out of the puddles around a public wash house. She would murmur and he would look up as a buzzard swept overhead, mewing, or a white horse in a field galloped down to whinny at their pair as they passed.

  ‘There’s Mâcon ahead.’ Theo took the reins back. ‘I don’t remember a day when I’ve spent more time doing virtually nothing and yet enjoyed myself so much.’

  ‘No.’ Moving back to her side of the box and smoothing down her skirts before they reached the streets, Elinor nodded in perfect comprehension. ‘It was like a day from childhood, taking sights and experiences as they came with no worries, nothing to do but be.’

  Beside her Theo chuckled. ‘I like that: Nothing to do but be. You are taking years off me, Nell. Hold tight, here we are.’

  As he swung the team through the gates of the inn, Elinor watched his face: focused, intent, strong. No, they might have taken a day out of childhood, but this was not a boy. This was a man.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maĉon, and a night spent chastely in their own beds lay behind them, Lyon was just ahead in the late afternoon sunlight. Theo had kept the reins the whole way, saying he wanted to get to Lyon before evening and Elinor had secretly welcomed the chance to recover from yesterday’s stiff shoulders and aching back.

  She stretched as they climbed down into the courtyard of the Phaison Blanc. Theo was negotiating with the landlord for rooms and ordering hot water immediately. ‘Come along, upstairs for a quick wash, then we are going out.’ He was up to something, she could tell. Some excitement was bubbling underneath. Willing to indulge him, Elinor hurried to do as he asked, reappearing in the courtyard to find him hat in hand, hair ruthlessly combed.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Without thinking she tucked her hand under his elbow and allowed herself to be guided along the crowded footway.

  ‘We will be in a Grand Ducal court soon.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ That was not news.

  ‘I intend we look the part.’ Theo stopped in front of a discreet green-painted shop window displaying a length of figured silk, a pair of kid gloves and a fan. ‘In we go.’

  Ten minutes later Elinor found herself abandoned to the mercies of a team of interested semptresses under the direction of their employer, who had received detailed orders from Theo. Bewildered, Elinor saw large amounts of money change hands while she struggled to keep up with the rapid-fire exchange of French.

  ‘Theo—what on earth—?’ She managed before he was out of the door.

  ‘I’ll be back, just going to find a tailor.’ Then she was staring at a closed door and hands were tugging her gently towards screens at the back of the shop.

  ‘Madame, s’il-vous plaît.’ Abandoned, and not at all sure she knew her way back, Elinor surrendered to having her outer clothes stripped off, to the accompaniment of much interested comment on her divided skirt, and being comprehensively measured, prodded and subjected to length after length of fabric being held up to her face.

  It was like being gently assaulted by a flock of small, but very determined, birds. Just why measuring her for one gown, which she supposed was Theo’s intention, should take so much fuss, she had no idea, but she was tired and her French vocabulary failed her.

  Theo reappeared over an hour later when she was sitting with her feet on a petit-point footstool, sipping a tisane and leafing through copies of La Correspondance des Dames. This was the sort of thing her friends Bel, Eva and Jessica did, not her.

  ‘Having fun?’ Somewhere along the way he had acquired a cane and a smart tall hat and his breeches and coat had been brushed and sponged.

  ‘No! Well, yes, in a way. But, Theo, Eva and Sebastian won’t mind us turning up with just a valise between us, not once we explain. And one of Eva’s ladies will be sure to be my size and won’t mind lending some things, I am sure.’ She looked him up and down as he stood in front of her surrounded by the shop girls. ‘You are looking very much the thing.’

  ‘Wait until tomorrow. Merci, madame, à bientôt.’ Theo held the door for her and ushered her out. ‘Now then dinner, a bath and an early night.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m not—’

  ‘Not tired? We’ve a busy day tomorrow.’

  ‘Theo!’ Elinor dug in her heels in, stopping in the middle of the square. ‘Talk to me! I thought we were going on to Grenoble tomorrow.’

  ‘No, we are going to Grenoble next,’ he said patiently, steering her firmly across the road. ‘Tomorrow we shop. We need clothes and I want to indulge myself.’

  ‘By dressing me up? Theo, how many gowns have you ordered?’

  ‘One or two,’ he said evasively. ‘It is a very stylish court, I don’t want either of us to feel out of place.’

  Elinor set her lips tight together and walked back to the inn in silence. Theo had cajoled her into new clothes in St Père, and he had been proved right. She had looked a dowd and it was gratifying to look one’s best and have a pretty gown or two. But they were not in London, she was not attending court for social reasons and she was baffled by why Theo should want to continue encouraging her to shop.

  She held her peace until after dinner, maintaining a flow of cheerful conversation that Theo obviously found disconcerting. When the waiter cleared the board and brought in a bottle of brandy he half-rose to his feet, expecting her to retire.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ Elinor settled down across the table where she could watch his face, pulled a glass towards her and splashed brandy in the bottom—she rather thought she might need its support. ‘Now Theo, why, exactly, did you take me to that modiste this afternoon? And what shopping are we going to be occupying valuable travelling time with tomorrow?’

  He did not answer her immediately, pouring himself a glass of brandy and pushing his chair back so he was sitting at right angles to her. Elinor waited patiently while he loosened his neckcloth, stretched out his legs and generally made himself comfortable. If he thought she was going to be put off by such obvious tactics, he had another think coming.

  ‘I’ve risked your life, dragged you across France, made you thoroughly uncomfortable. I thought you deserved a treat. I thought I did, come to that. I thought I would enjoy buying you pretty things.’ He turned from his contemplation of the brandy to look directly into her eyes. ‘I wanted to take you to Maubourg and show you off.’

  ‘As your creation? You wanted to buy me things as you would your mistress?’ She thought she was angry, but the mixture of emotions churning round inside her were difficult to i
nterpret.

  ‘As I would any lady I was fond of, who had taste, who I thought might enjoy it,’ he said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to assess her reaction.

  ‘Oh.’ Put like that, it was hard to be cross. ‘I am not used to being brought presents of that sort.’ And, of course, no lady could accept any article of apparel from a man as a gift, not so much as a pair of gloves. ‘I should pay you back when we get back to England.’

  ‘This is a present,’ he said, his voice level. ‘I would be gratified if you would accept tomorrow as a present.’ There was emotion behind the calmness, feelings she did not understand. Unless her fear the other night had shaken him, made him feel he needed to make reparation for that terrifying time in the dungeons.

  And if that was how he felt, could she throw it back in his face? She could hardly be much more compromised than she was already and it was not as though anyone need know how she had come by whatever it was Theo was determined to give her.

  ‘Thinking again?’ he enquired, not unkindly, as she sipped her brandy. She was not certain she liked it, but it warmed right down to her toes. ‘I love your mind, Nell, but I wish you’d let your emotions out sometimes.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I would very much enjoy for you to take me shopping and buy me things, Theo, thank you.’ There, is that emotional enough for him? He loves my mind? But I don’t want him to love my mind, I want him to love me! Just how startled would he be if I showed him my emotions, asked him to make love to me?

  ‘Right.’ He grinned at her, suddenly looking happier than he had all day. ‘Drink more brandy, it is obviously good for you. I told them that I wanted the gowns ready for a first fitting before noon. I will go to my tailors at the same time. Then there are all the other things, the frippery things—we can fit those in around the fittings.’