What was worse, though, was leading her to think that they were taking this trip solely to benefit her, whereas nothing could be further from the truth.
Slater began to pull documents from the case and arrange them on the portable desk which he balanced upon his knee. At least the man had no idea anything was out of the ordinary. Not on this leg of the journey, at any rate. It might well be different after they’d been to visit Clement, particularly if Clare found out that he suspected her darling brother of being involved in not only the disappearance of a large amount of jewellery, but also of the suspicious death of his friend Archie. She wouldn’t be able to pretend she wasn’t angry with him after that. And she would be. So angry that he wouldn’t be able to manipulate her into a state of smiling compliance with his skills in the bedroom. Bedroom? She’d never let him anywhere near a bedroom ever again. In fact, if she ever spoke to him again it would be nothing short of a miracle.
And two miracles in one lifetime were more than any man deserved. He’d had his when he’d walked into that inn and she’d fallen into his clutches like a ripe peach.
Actually, make that two miracles. The second had occurred on his wedding night, when she’d not merely yielded to his lovemaking, but responded with an untutored enthusiasm that had stunned him. For a moment or two, he’d experienced such a strong surge of emotion that it had almost leaked from his eyes. He’d almost told her…
He pulled a face. Thank heavens, his fit of lunacy had only lasted a second or two before he’d pulled himself together sufficiently to take steps to ensure things didn’t start getting…sentimental.
He’d managed to extricate himself from her arms, and then her room, with his own dignity intact. That he’d done it by goading her into a state where she’d found relief in throwing a selection of breakables at him also ensured she didn’t notice how shaken he’d been by their encounter. And then the next morning, before she could launch into a discussion about what had happened the night before, he’d distracted her by deliberately seducing her again.
And that was the way he would continue to handle her. Handle his own weakness for her. And stop it getting out of hand.
* * *
Lord Rawcliffe was acting exactly the way a newly married man should, tenderly handing her out of the carriage at every halt, making solicitous enquiries as to her comfort and seeing to all her wants, be it delicately sliced bread to go with a cup of tea, or directions to the necessary.
The only hint that all was not as it should be was the presence of Slater and his bag of extremely important documents. Most newly married men would surely have consigned his secretary to one of the coaches containing all the other members of staff her husband seemed to think necessary for a trip to…wherever it was they were going. He hadn’t deigned to inform her. And she was too proud to give in to her curiosity and beg him to tell her. Or to ask any of his staff, either, because that would expose the fact that he hadn’t seen fit to share his plans with her.
And as the day wore on it became harder and harder to keep her feelings in check. Because none of the topics Slater and her husband discussed sounded as important as all that. Not that she supposed they would discuss state secrets with her sitting right there, she conceded. Perhaps it was just the amount of business her husband had to deal with that was the issue. Perhaps he just wanted to catch up with all the things that had escaped his attention while he’d been searching for the mysterious ‘Jenny’ Lady Harriet had mentioned before he’d made it clear she was supposed to be a secret.
He certainly hadn’t liked being kept in ignorance of her father’s death. And he’d been downright shaken by the news of his chaplain’s horrible fate.
She let her eyes drift in his direction. And sighed. He was, in spite of all the accusations she’d flung at him over the years, a very conscientious landlord. At least he didn’t regard his tenants as merely a source of income, the way so many others of his class did. Though he lived well, extremely well, actually, he never neglected repairs on the cottages of his estate workers. And he generally took such a keen interest in everything that was going on, at all his estates from what she could gather, that he had the reputation of knowing everything. Perhaps this was how he did it. By paying such meticulous attention to all his correspondence, no matter how trivial it appeared.