Chapter Four

A lady should always be pleasant.

A few hours later, with shadows lengthening in the overcast skies as dusk came upon them, the traveling coach pulled into the yard of the Old Brown Mare Inn. While Jackson was glad they’d reached the posting inn without further incident, he was slightly apprehensive about the accommodations.

Even more so when he told the ladies to remain in the coach while he reserved a pair of rooms. Would the two of them get along? Would they be frostily polite to each other? God only knew, but he had a responsibility to protect them both for wildly different reasons.

A quarter of an hour later, he made his way back to the inn yard with less than pleasant information, but at least the rain had stopped… for now.

After opening the door, he popped his head in. Lydia was on one bench while his daughter occupied the other, and from the looks of things, they hadn’t really conversed, for the recalcitrant expression on Elsbeth’s face testified to that fact.

“Well, we are in luck. There was one last private room available, so I reserved it,” he said with forced cheerfulness in his voice as he held up a brass key. “However, that was the only private room left, so unless we wish for Lady Lydia to share a public room with up to four or five other people in the same bed, we will all need to get along in the one private room.”

A faint shiver racked her shoulders while faint fear sprang to her eyes, gone with her next blink.

Why?

Yes, sharing a room with her might prove disastrous, for after he’d apparently lost his mind earlier and had shared an exploratory kiss with the woman who was naught but a stranger, the initial desire he’d felt hadn’t faded.

Not that anything would happen with his daughter in the room, thank God. He wasn’t searching for a new romance.

Was he?

“Do you mean to tell me that you are contemplating staying in the same room as a stranger? Someone you just picked up off the side of the road?” Indignation quivered in Elsbeth’s voice. “Are you mad?”

He frowned. “I’m not contemplating it; rather, it’s done. I’ve booked the room. You and Lydia can take the bed I shall sleep on the floor.” As he spoke, Jackson put down the steps and then thrust in a hand to help one of them out.

Of course it was his daughter who came down first. She regarded him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads. “She could murder us both,” Elsbeth said in a fierce whisper.

To her credit, Lydia did little more than huff. “I am not in the habit of killing people I don’t know.”

Elsbeth popped her hands on her hips while she gawked at the headmistress as he handed Lydia out of the vehicle. “Then if you did know me, you’d do so?”

He exchanged a speaking glance with his main driver.

“That largely depends on how nasty you continue to act toward me.” With that slightly elevated eyebrow and the tone of an educator, he could completely see her in the role of a head mistress. “There is no need for panic or worry, Lady Elsbeth. We will rub on famously if we treat each other with respect.”

Jackson’s admiration for the woman rose. Perhaps what his daughter needed was to be taken in hand by a woman with a strong will who could guide her out of the tendency to act spoiled. “Unless you two wish to scratch each other’s eyes out in the stable yard, we should make inroads to going inside and out of the cold. I’m quite looking forward to thawing in front of a fire.”

While Lydia’s lips twitched, she didn’t fully smile, but she nodded. “I would enjoy that as well. I can’t remember when last I felt warm.”

Well, he could, and it was during that impromptu kiss. Had it affected her at all? For that matter, why the hell had he done that? Tamping on the urge to grin, he led the two of them into the common room of the inn. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to, because those ruby red lips of hers had practically demanded it, because there’d been a spark between them he was intrigued by.

Despite all that, he sensed she was withholding something but couldn’t put his finger on it. There were secrets and shadows in her eyes that made her all the more intriguing. Additionally, she had a certain something about her that enhanced the attraction and awareness already brewing between them.

Had she felt it as well?

That remained to be seen, but at least they were all safe and would have tea—preferably laced with brandy—sooner rather than later.

Fifteen minutes later, he sat at a scarred and scratched heavy wooden table with Lydia and Elsbeth. They both had tea while he nursed a glass of brandy. A fire blazed cheerfully in the nearby hearth, and everyone had a warm dinner, which they tucked into with varying degrees of enjoyment.

Not much had been said, but that suited him fine, for he didn’t fancy playing peacemaker between the two women. Would his wife have been disappointed in what he’d let their daughter become? That was destined to remain a mystery, but he hoped not. He’d done the best he could by Elsbeth, but he feared it wasn’t enough, even for the daughter of an earl.

“Lady Elsbeth, how do you feel about traveling so close to Christmas?” The inquiry from Lydia was most unexpected, and Jackson waited with bated breath for the answer, even though the girl would probably complain. “Most young ladies I have in my school looked forward to spending time with friends and family doing the usual activities to prepare for the holiday.”

Surprise widened his daughter’s eyes. She bounced her gaze between him and Lydia before finally setting down her fork and knife. “I wasn’t pleased when Papa announced the travel plans. What is so wrong with staying in London?”

“Where your friends are?” Lydia continued as she cut her roast beef into evenly divided squares before spearing one with the tines of her fork.

“Yes.” The girl nodded but she didn’t glance his way. “Papa says they aren’t a good influence on me, that they are silver-tongued vipers who’ve nothing better to do than cut down others in the beau monde with gossip and rumor or go on indiscriminate shopping trips in Mayfair. He doesn’t think that is a good environment for me.”

“Mmmhmm.” Lydia chewed the bite of meat thoughtfully before swallowing. “I can’t say whether that is true since I don’t know them or you, so perhaps you could tell me how you wished to spend your holiday from your studies?”

What was this? An angle he hadn’t thought to employ on his daughter.

“Well, I…” Elsbeth temporarily bit her bottom lip. “If I wasn’t with my friends, I suppose I’d spend that time reading or painting, perhaps convincing Papa to leave the house. There is a night circus that sets up in Covent Garden during Christmastide. That might have been fun to see. Or perhaps the menagerie at the Tower.”

“True, but certainly you have already seen those things. No doubt a governess took you when you were younger.” And the headmistress continued to methodically and delicately eat her dinner with graceful manners.

“Of course, but when one sees such things at different ages, one realizes a new and different appreciation for them,” his daughter countered with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Just when Jackson thought there might be tension exploding between the two, Lydia nodded. A faint smile curved those damned kissable lips. “Very good, Elsbeth. Not many people your age can appreciate the subtleties and nuances of meeting experiences again. In fact, you will think that way another two times during your life, I’ll wager. And that is a good thing.”

Miracle of miracle, his daughter grinned. “Thank you.” She pushed the food around on her plate. “Papa means well, of course.”

“Or course,” he echoed in a soft voice, for it was almost as if he didn’t exist during that conversation.

Lydia glanced at him with amusement in her dark eyes but then gave her full attention to Elsbeth. “Parents usually do, unless they are monsters or ogres.” She took a sip of tea. “However, I can imagine you are disappointed to be so far away from civilization as you know it. Perhaps you had invitations to social events?”

“Uh, not exactly.” Elsbeth fixed her gaze on her plate. A faint blush stained her cheeks. “I am only sixteen and haven’t had my Come Out yet.”

“But?” Lydia took a bite of her roast.

“But it would be great fun to attend a dance, even if my dancing instructor has said I’m hopeless at the steps in all the sets. I think I need a different teacher, someone who believes in me instead of belittles me.”

“That would certainly make a difference.” The headmistress nodded. “Fortunately, I am an excellent dancer and would be happy to teach you the finer points of all the usual sets.”

Excitement went through his daughter’s expression, and that was something he hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

Here was the break he’d been waiting for since the two of them had ignored him. “Does that mean you agree to travel with us until Ambleside, Lady Lydia?”

This time, the blush was in her cheeks. “I suppose I do. However, you should let me pay for my own passage.” When her gaze crashed into his, there was a certain longing, a certain… craving for lack of a better word into those dark depths he couldn’t understand but recognized. “I can pay to share a public room.”

“Bite your tongue. Never let it be said that I sent the daughter of an earl to share a room at a posting inn with the hodgepodge of humanity that might turn up.” He shook his head. “And an unaccompanied innocent at that.”

“Oh. That hadn’t occurred to me.” Her blush deepened. “I have been alone for some years now.”

“Ah.” Maidenly reserve? How interesting, for there had been a banked response to her kiss earlier, as if she’d wanted to let herself go, to surrender to the embrace, but she’d held back for whatever reason. And he wanted to know why. “The only obvious answer is to stay with us. Don’t you agree, Elsbeth?”

They both glanced at the girl.

“I suppose it is the only way for us to maintain some sense of propriety.” Then her eyes widened again. “As long as we don’t pretend Lady Lydia is my mother.”

The woman in question cut another square of her roast, put it into her mouth, and daintily chewed before swallowing. “I’d imagine you aren’t ready for your father to marry again?”

“Actually, that isn’t true at all.” Elsbeth peered at him with a grin. “In fact, recently I have pestered Papa to put himself out in society in the hopes he would meet a lady who might thoroughly charm him.”

“How lovely of you.” The headmistress also gave him a look. “Then it’s you who is opposed to a second marriage? Perhaps that indicates you are still in love with your wife?”

There was a certain comfort in her no-nonsense demeanor. It spoke to a directness he admired. The fact that she might know her own mind instead of parroting things back to people was refreshing. “I was devastated when she died, of course. And yes, I miss her at times.” He nodded at his daughter, who watched him with a sheen of tears in her eyes. “But I can admit that I have found myself lonely in recent days.”

With the grace of a duchess, Lydia laid her knife and fork across her plate with a nod. “You are an earl, Your Lordship. Surely such a title wouldn’t prove a hindrance to meeting people.”

Elsbeth snorted. “He is afraid. Which is why he is running to the Highlands instead of remaining in London.” She slid her gaze to Lydia. “He doesn’t want to confront his feelings, is forever clinging to the past, longing for a world that no longer exists, I think.”

“Well, your daughter isn’t wrong. So much has changed since I was her age or even when she was a young girl. It’s both exciting and terrifying.”

“Even Lady Lydia knows answers are found in the future.” She shrugged with the attitude only a sixteen-year-old girl could. “Honestly, Papa, if you weren’t happy with your lot in London, you won’t be happy with it at the cottage.”

When he looked to Lydia, her expression suggested she found no fault with that either. One of her eyebrows rose. “She’s not wrong, Your Lordship. People and things are ephemeral. Only you can steer your own ship.” Oddly enough, her voice wavered. “Relying on others for your happiness—for love—is stupid, at best, for they will only disappoint and hurt you.”

What the devil happened in her life to make her think this way? For that matter, why had he never heard of her father? Perhaps he’d lived his life abroad? The mystery deepened.

His daughter nodded with enthusiasm. “Mama certainly wouldn’t want you to waste your life running.” With a sigh, she put a hand over his. “She might have been the shy and retiring type, never one to raise her voice or offer protest, but she would be the first to tell you that it is time to move on, to be happy again.”

“Or at the very least, fulfilled, to find purpose,” Lydia said in a soft voice as she glanced at him. “I know what it feels like to be adrift,” she added with a nod. “It is not a comfortable sensation.”

What the deuce did that mean? What secrets was she hiding, and why did he want to drag them out of her? To be honest, she might prove as broken as he, as broken as everyone he had rescued and tried to help over the years since losing his wife, but was there a crime in that? The longer he stared at her, the more awareness shivered over his skin, worked its way through his shaft, and damn if he didn’t want her in his bed merely for the distraction.

Not knowing what else to do, Jackson cleared his throat. “If you both are done attempting to tear me apart with lashes from your tongues, perhaps you should retire to the room. We’ll need to leave at first light.” Perhaps that was an unfortunate choice in words, for imagining what the lady might do to him with her tongue if they had a chance nearly became his undoing.

In front of his daughter, even.

Elsbeth and Lydia exchanged amused glances. His daughter nodded. “I’ll go up since I’m tired anyway. If the two of you decide to talk when you come up, please don’t disturb me. Hopefully my maid has laid out my things.” Then she stood, bent to buss his cheek, took the key from where he’d rested it on the table, and finally left the common room without a backward glance.

“I’m afraid she’s becoming spoiled, and I don’t know what to do about it,” he admitted to Lydia once his daughter was out of earshot.

She nodded. “I can see why you are worried. It’s a fine line to walk, especially when the child in question is without a parent.”

“What should I do?”

“Find connection with her again. Taking her away for Christmastide is a good start.” She drained her teacup. “There is every possibility she feels she is losing her father as she grows into an adult. I see it all the time at the finishing school.” After she dabbed the corners of her mouth with the linen napkin, she laid it on the table. “That being said, try to understand her as best you can. Play upon the traditions you and your wife used to have with her. Make new ones, and try to have this Christmastide season be a foundation stone in her memory.”

For long moments, he regarded her. How odd was it that he just met her and yet now sought her counsel? “Thank you.” Daring much, he touched one of her hands with his on the tabletop. “May I be honest with you?” Everyone else in the common room fell away, for there was only him and her in that moment as fear trembled down his spine, for this was so far out of his mode of comfort he gasped at himself.

“Of course.” The blush had returned to her cheeks.

How could she be an innocent and a siren in the same breath? “If you and I were alone, I would kiss you again, and this time I wouldn’t keep it chaste.”

What the devil was wrong with him?

A mix of emotions played through her expression, but her eyes darkened and her gaze dropped to his mouth, which only served to further harden his shaft. “Why did you kiss me earlier? It’s baffling, to be honest.”

Did she truly not know how attractive she was in a vulnerable sort of way? “I wanted to.”

“So that gave you permission to steal one from me? Are you one of those men who think women are only on this earth to serve you in whatever capacity you demand?”

While he appreciated her penchant for plain speaking, the thought behind it was completely wrong. “I am not, and if you tell me that you didn’t enjoy it also, I give you my word, I will not pester you with such an advance again.”

“Oh, I…” The blush intensified. “I did enjoy it, though it took me by surprise.”

“Why? Have you never been kissed before?”

“I have.” She glanced at something over his left shoulder. “To be honest, those kisses were not pleasing, and some of them were forced.” A shiver racked her shoulders as she returned her gaze to his. A trace of fear reflected in those dark depths. “Intimacy and closeness in any capacity with a man is something I’m striving to reconcile myself to.”

Again with the mystery, but now he desperately wanted to solve it. “You shouldn’t need to do that. With the right man, such things won’t seem like a chore or something to be endured.”

Did he want to be that man? There was no way to answer that at this time.

For the space of a heartbeat, Lydia stared at him. Finally, she nodded. “Thank you for the kindness of allowing me to travel with you and Elsbeth. That will go a long way into restoring my faith in humanity… and men in particular. Now, if you will excuse me? I’m going upstairs. This has been a trying day, and I would like to see the damage to my face and hope you have managed to ignore my injuries.”

“Trust me, Lydia, I didn’t notice once we were engaged in conversation.” That was how distracting she was. “I shall come up a bit later. I still need time to decompress from traveling.”

“I will make you a pallet, so you needn’t fuss later.” With a half smile, she left him alone with his thoughts, as torturous and revealing as they were.