An Illicit Indiscretion

Lord, he was handsome with that smile. She could rule out ‘ravager.’ Ravagers were supposed to have bad teeth and poor hygiene habits. He looked like the seducing sort. From the light of the carriage lamps, it was blatantly clear he could have whoever’s company he desired without ravaging. Her stranger was striking: dark-haired, classically featured with a sharp nose that looked like it had come straight from a Roman coin.

The carriage hit a rut in the road. Elisabeth reached for a hand strap, acutely aware of his gaze upon her and the silence that filled the coach.

‘I suppose introductions are in order before we go much farther. I’m Dashiell.’ He drawled in easy tones that suggested he was not nearly as unnerved by their situation as she was.

‘Elisabeth,’ she replied in firm tones, hoping to convey a confidence to his. First names only would be best. She didn’t want this seductive almost-stranger finding her when the adventure was all over. It would be her ruin if word got out.

‘Now that’s established, let’s move on to our next item of business. Where are we going, Elisabeth?’ He was smiling again.

Probably to perdition. But he clearly didn’t care. What kind of man walked out of a dinner party given by the prime minister’s premier cabinet member and simply didn’t return?

‘You can drop me off in Greenwich.’ Elisabeth managed, a sense of caution reasserting itself. ‘I can find my way from there.’ The less he knew the better. This was all a game to him, something to break up his ennui. But it couldn’t be a game to her. She was just beginning to understand the risks she was taking if he discovered who she was.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were planning to walk to Greenwich in the dark of night?’

‘If I had to.’ She hoped her defiance covered her uncertainty. She hadn’t known exactly how she was getting to Greenwich. She’d only known she was going. ‘I could have taken a hansom cab.’

The eyebrow went up again in doubt. ‘Dressed like that? I don’t think a driver would have believed you could pay the fare all the way to Greenwich.’

She hadn’t thought of that but she wasn’t about to tell Mr. Handsome-And-Apparently-A-Touch-High-Handed he might have a point.

‘No matter, it’s all worked out perfectly, don’t you think?’ Dashiell said expansively. ‘I’ve escaped a tedious dinner engagement with eighteen other guests and you have simply escaped.’ He fixed her with a look that warned her she wouldn’t like the next thing to come out of his mouth. ‘By the way, Elisabeth, what were you escaping from?’

Elisabeth reconsidered her earlier preference. First names might preserve anonymity but using them also took away all formality. The sound of her name on his lips was positively intimate in the confines of a carriage at night. This was a man who could turn a woman’s head with little or no effort. She had to be careful or he’d be coaxing all of her secrets out of her.

‘I’d prefer to keep that information to myself.’ She sounded so prim, so very much like…

her mother. Elisabeth fought the urge to cringe. Here she was in a carriage with a dashing stranger who hadn’t decided she was a bluestocking freak yet, and she sounded like a governess.

‘I’d prefer to know a little bit more about the company I keep. Surely you’re just a teeny bit curious about me, too. It’s an hour to Greenwich so I have a proposition for you.’

A proposition.

A deliciously wicked tremor skittered down her spine. This man wasn’t suitable company at all, and to think he’d made her mother’s guest list. What had her mother been thinking? Maybe thoughts hadn’t had anything to do with it. She was testament enough that good judgement seemed to fly right out of the equation when faced with the handsome charmer sitting across from her. For all of her carefully laid plans to see the comet, she’d jettisoned them rather quickly at his offer of a ride.

Of course, accepting the ride was only good logic. She could defend her choice to some extent. It stood to reason it would be a faster, more direct option than finding her way on her own. But now, the logic was starting to shift.

‘What kind of proposition?’ Elisabeth crossed her legs in a nonchalant gesture and hoped she sounded more sophisticated than she felt.

‘A game of Consequences. I’ll ask you a truth and you can decide to answer it or not.’

‘And the consequence for not answering?’ Elisabeth asked just a little bit breathless at the possibilities. This carriage ride was fast becoming something more than expedient transport. It was becoming freedom, a chance to be someone else besides Viscount Graybourne’s daughter. For a brief while she could be free from the confines of a life that stifled much of the person she actually was. Meeting Dashiell-The-Handsome-Stranger was becoming a once in a lifetime opportunity just like the comet and she was going to seize it.