DD-Michaels-END.rtf (28 page)

Morgan sniffed back tears and looked up at her brother, who was standing on the step above her. "Not that. Oh, perhaps that. But not that, really. I'm sorry for..
.
for
everything.
I haven't been an easy sister."

"That's true enough, if I think about the events of last year. You're referring to the night you waited for me outside of Julia's bedchamber?"

"Yes, for that." Morgan sniffed, amazed at herself, how easily tears were coming to her. She, who rarely ever cried. "And for riding out with...
y
ou know... without any of you knowing. And..
.
and for everything else."

Chance drew his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at Morgan's tear-wet cheeks. "Are you by any chance confessing to being the one who
borrowed
one of my best pistols, shot out one of the windows in Ainsley's study and then put the pistol back, hoping no one would know?"

Morgan's smile was watery, but it was a smile, and Chance began to relax, because his sister had been acting very strangely.

"No, that was Fanny and Rian. But I probably did everything else. Do you forgive me?"

"Morgan, are you all right?"

She gave a weak laugh. "No, Chance, I don't think I am. But I'm going to be, I promise."

"And his lordship? Are you still of the same mind about not accepting his proposal?"

"I don't know," Morgan answered honestly. "But I do think I'm a better person today than I was just a little while ago. Maybe even since yesterday."

Chance put a crooked finger beneath her chin, lifted her face toward his. "Morgan, you're a very good person, and you always were. I don't know what's going on inside that head of yours, but please, don't change too drastically. I would miss Morgan Becket very much."

She kissed his cheek, gave him one last hug, and then turned and ran for the coach, bypassing Ethan's offer to assist her as she quickly mounted into the vehicle.

Moments later, after putting up the step, Ethan joined her, closing the door behind him before settling back on the front-facing seat. "Forgive me for asking the obvious," he said, handing her his handkerchief so she could wipe at her eyes, "but are you quite all right? Are you sorry to be leaving London so soon?"

"Oh no, Ethan, I'm delighted to
be leaving London," she told him sincerely. "Almost, I imagine, as delighted as London is that I'm leaving."

"I see," he said, grinning as she rather lustily blew her nose. He looked very pointedly at the maid, who sat facing them, and she lowered her gaze to her
l
ace-
m
itted f
i
ngers. "And you're delighted to be with me?"

Miserable as she was, feeling as determined as she was to be a better person, Morgan knew there were some mountains that could never be climbed, some foes that would never be defeated. One of those foes to her determination to reform her behavior was her dislike for secrets, unless they were hers.

And Chance had said he didn't want her to change
too
much.

"Not as delighted as I'd be if you told me what was in that satchel you handed up to your coachman. Chance had a visitor in his study earlier, and that visitor hadn't arrived via the front door, or I would have known. A clandestine visitor, a satchel traveling with us to Becket Hall? Yes, I'd definitely be delighted to know what is in that satchel."

"Easily answered, my dear. That was my valet you saw. Being so cramped for space, and knowing of the Becket family's expertise in the matter, I had your brother cut him up and stuff him in the satchel. The way you did with your maid and bandbox, correct?"

There was a quick, startled gasp from the other side of the coach, and Morgan shot Ethan a "now look what you've done" glare, then climbed across the coach to sit beside Louise. "His lordship was only funning, Louise. You're here, aren't you? Inside this coach, not a bandbox, and with all of you in one piece."

"And with working ears, too," Ethan said, settling back more comfortably against the squabs. "But you're going suddenly deaf now, Louise, aren't you?"

The maid's head bobbed up and down quickly, nervously. "Can't hear a thing, milord. Don't see nothing, neither."

Morgan maneuvered herself back across the coach, giving Ethan a playful punch in the midsection before sitting down close beside him. "You're as mean as I am," she whispered to him.

"Yes, no wonder we rub along together so well," Ethan said, raising the hand that had just punched him, and kissing the bare skin above Morgan's glove. "Questions, and answers, are for later, imp, save this one. Where do we meet your coach?"

"I'm not sure. Just outside of London proper, I believe. Saul knows the way, in any case."

"We may encounter my outriders in the much same area," Morgan said, having dispatched three footmen directly from the stable behind Grosvenor Square. "This conveniently crested coach, yours, my traveling coach..
.
we're quite the entourage. I imagine the entire world and his wife will know the Earl of Aylesford is decamping to visit the family of that delicious woman he waltzed with last evening. You can't turn me down now, Morgan. I'd have to leave the country."

Morgan knew her grin to be positively wicked. "Poor man. Wherever will you go? The Continent is barely safe at the moment."

There was a quick, and just as quickly stifled, giggle from the other side of the coach, followed by a quiet, "Sorry, milord."

Morgan's eyes were dancing with glee as Ethan shot her a most terrible look. "I'
d
have an answer to that, imp, but as I have been so recently reminded, I'm not at my best before noon."

He then stretched his long legs out on the facing seat, beside a newly startled Louise, slid down low on his spine and tipped his hat to shade his eyes. "Wake me, please, when we reach the inestimable Saul."

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Ethan lifted the brim of his hat, blinking at the sunlight slanting in the side window, feeling slightly abashed that he had actually fallen asleep. Until, that was, he realized Morgan was also sleeping, curled against his chest, his arm having somehow made its way across her shoulders.

He smiled, as this was a rather delightful circumstance, before remembering the maid's presence. He looked across the space dividing them and, yes, there she most certainly was, bright-eyed and apple-cheeked, and still very much in the way.

But
the coach had stopped, which Ethan could only consider a good sign, and when a moment later the equally bright-eyed and apple-cheeked face of one of his grooms appeared at the off window, his spirits rose even higher.

Careful not to disturb Morgan, who seemed to be sleeping the sleep of either the innocent or the dead, he quietly lowered the window. "Well met, Harold. I take it we're at the tollhouse outside Dartford?"

"Yes, milord, just as you told us ta be. There's another coach here, waiting on yer. Coachie's all right, but the other one ain't the chatterin' sort, if yer take
m
eanin', milord. Coachie has him tied to the box, so he won't go tumblin' off, and
he's lookin' a
mite green."

"Really," Ethan said, assuming Harold meant the inestimable Jacob. The boy hadn't seemed the sort to try to drown himself in a bottle. "The worse for drink, is he?"

"He's not the better for it, milord, I'll say that. Offered him a hair from the dog what bit him, but he just went greener, and cast up his accounts all over the side of the coach. Happens to those country lads when they comes to town, not used to nothin' save their mama's milk
,
eh? You'll be wantin' Alejandro now?"

"Yes, Harold, thank you. And Miss Becket's mount as well, if you please. Are they serving, inside the tollhouse?"

"Scones and tea, milord. I asked. Ordered some up for you and the lady, I did, not ten minutes past, figurin' yer'd be co
m
in' along about now."

"Good man. As I believe I've heard it said about you, Harold, you'll go far."

"I'm tryin', milord. Lookin' for butler's keys, someday," Harold said cheekily, and ran off, probably to do something else he felt would impress his employer all hollow.

"Jacob's sick?"

Ethan turned to Morgan, to
see
thatshe was awake and in the process of sitting up straight once more, adjusting her shako hat on her head. "Inebriated, imp, although I believe he's now on the other, much less pleasant side of the experience. I suppose you want to see him?"

Morgan concentrated on retrieving her gloves, which had slipped to the floor of the coach at some point. "No, not really. I shouldn't want to embarrass him. I'm sure Saul is taking very good care of him. Where are we? Did you say Dartford?"

"Yes, I did, but we're only on the outskirts. Dartford, as well-positioned as it is, and as well-traveled as its turnpike may be, is not a place most wish to visit for any longer than it takes to traverse from one end to the other by coach. The finer arts of sanitation still seem to elude the citizens' collective grasp."

Morgan wrinkled her nose. "Then we will most certainly not tarry. Did we pass through here on the way
^c
to London?"

"No, there was no need, not when we were traveling from Tanner's Roost. Now, come alon
g
—
n
o, not you, Louise, thank yo
u
—
a
nd we'll have some refreshments while everything an
d
—" he looked at Louise one last time "—
e
very
one
is resettled."

Louise must have spent the past few hours considering her Duty To Her Employer, for she nervously cleared her throat, then said, "I am to stay with Miss Morgan, milord."

"Miss Morgan," Ethan explained as he would to a child,
"
will be riding with me ahead of the coach until we reach the inn at Headco
r
n. So, unless you ride, Louise, or are able to run exceedingly fast... ?"

The door to the coach opened and a hand reached inside to pull down the step...
a
nd Louise was gone before Morgan could betray herself with a giggle. "Lady Beresford was right. You're incorrigible."

"And more eager than you obviously know to be alone with you somehow tonight," he told her. "But this shall have to satisfy
m
e for n
o
w, I s
u
ppose."

He tipped up her chin and lightly pressed his lips against hers. It was a chaste kiss, just as he'd planned it..
.
until Morgan wrapped her arms tightly around him, grinding her mouth to his before breaking the kiss, pressing her cheek against his.

"Hold me a moment, Ethan," she whispered, and he heard pain in her voice. Pain she didn't explain and that he could not f
a
thom. He remembered how she had
held on to her brother earlier, and now it seemed to be
his
turn to hold her. To comfort her?

"Morgan, what's wrong?" He played light kisses against the side of her neck. "Something's happened, hasn't it?"

Morgan hated herself for allowing Ethan's touch to set off all her pent-up emotions, emotions that had haunted her f
o
r all of last night after Jacob had left her bedchamber.

She wanted to be strong. She wanted to forget what
had happened between herself and Jacob. She'd spent a good hour on the floor, weeping, mourning the loss of what
had truly been her best friend, perhaps her only real friend.

And she couldn't tell anyone what had happened. Most especially not Ethan.

She had to stop being such a watering spot, such a weak ninny, and get herself back under control. She had to!

Ethan eased her away from him, and she allowed him to, even as she longed to hold on to him. "Is it all too much, Morgan? Have I pressed too hard? Asked too much, too soon? Because it doesn't have to be that way, sweetheart. It shouldn't be that way, in any case. I won't
o
ress vou for anv more..
.
intimacies."

He was backing away from her?
Now?
Now, when she needed him more than ever? When she needed his touch, and not only so that she could forget Jacob's?

Was that selfish? Yes, it was. But then, she'd always been selfish. It had always been what Morgan wanted, always what Morgan believed she needed....

Ethan was older. An earl. Sophisticated, intelligent. But still a man, and how much of what he thought he felt for her was a result of her teasing, her outrageous behavior? And she
was
powerful. She'd perfected those powers over the years. With poor innocent foils like Jacob Whiting.

She was who she wa
s
—
p
erhaps even worse now, now that she had looked at herself, really seen hersel
f
—and Ethan could offer her any
out
in the world and she would not take it. She'd begun this journey, and now she would continue until the end, whatever that might be, wherever that journey may lead.