The Cheer in Charming an Earl(39)
He did as she bade him, still not understanding why he was here or what the devil they were doing. “Where are we going?” he asked after several moments had gone by in silence and, of course, the carriage hadn’t moved an inch.
She smiled. “Somewhere beautiful. A place with a shimmering lake and two little ponies exactly the right size for riding. You’ll adore it.”
A small smile played on her lips. Her eyes seemed focused on a faraway point. He sat stiffly against the squab, hands on his knees, and decided she just might be deranged. But even as he wondered whether she was mad, he marveled that a person could live so fully in one’s own private world that outside troubles couldn’t breach reasoned thought.
Assuredly, that was the definition of madness. “Are you touched?” he asked her, for he could think of no other reason for them to be sitting here on a pretend journey to an imaginary place.
He received a chime of laughter for his question. “No, my lord. Haven’t you ever played make-believe?”
“Is that a real question?”
Her cerulean eyes slid toward him. “My brother used to pretend he was a pirate. He sailed the high seas and plundered booty from ships and made my older sister scrub the deck.”
“But not you?” Grantham relaxed a fraction. He hadn’t truly thought her daft, but it was nice to know she was a dreamer, not a lunatic.
She chuckled and shook her head. “I was a pirate, too. A better one, for I knew where the gold was.”
Grantham laughed at that. He couldn’t help himself. Then he realized something. “But your brother is far older than you. He couldn’t have engaged in make-believe with a little girl almost half his age. Not with any seriousness.”
Her lips formed an O of surprise. “I never thought of that!”
He enjoyed watching her cheeks redden as she comprehended her brother’s indulgence of her. Hannah had been years younger than he was, too. Not quite as fanciful as Elinor, but close. He could easily imagine why Conley had spared an hour or two to entertain his quixotic little sister. Just imagine, Elinor as a pirate! Grantham chuckled.
“It was sporting of him to play with me,” she mused, seeming to have come to terms with her brother’s game. “Georgie—she’s my older sister—never would. She was always much too serious for it.”
“But you said she scrubbed the decks.” Grantham was enjoying the conversation, even if he didn’t quite understand where it was leading.
“For Gavin, yes. She’d do anything for Gavin. Besides, he always set her to scrubbing the kitchen floors, pretending it was the upper deck. I think he knew how best to mix work and play for her. Me? I was far too busy woolgathering to care what made Georgie happy. When it was the two of us alone, it was work, work, work, for neither of us truly understood the other.” Elinor’s gaze fell. “I miss her.”
Grantham reached for her hand before he could stop himself. A small gasp escaped her parted lips. What was it about this openhearted minx that captured his affection so easily? The barest display of sentiment and he was ready to pull her into his arms.
She glanced at the place where their fingers entwined. She looked away quickly, to the carriage window and the stone wall beyond it. “It would have done me good, I think, to listen to Georgie more. She would never have conceived anything so ill-advised as to wreck Gavin’s carriage on your kitchen wall.”
“She sounds like a dead bore,” Grantham said automatically. But he didn’t take it back.
Elinor’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t turn her head from the window. He could see her reflection in the pane, though she likely didn’t realize it. Her hopefulness was written like a light across her face. “She isn’t all seriousness, not entirely. I do pray one day a man attracted by her competence will ride through our village. Perhaps he will make her smile.”
Grantham immediately understood Elinor’s subtle meaning. Her well-mannered sister would never marry because she would never put herself in the position of being noticed.
That didn’t excuse Elinor’s behavior. “Why are you here?” he asked. “What’s this assignation about?”
She glanced at him. “I have no plan, my lord. Your friend Lord de Winter bade me to come.”
Nothing she could have said would have surprised Grantham more, and yet he could easily imagine de Winter orchestrating this tête-à-tête. “Did he say why?”
She shrugged, just as de Winter himself would have done. “I’m sure it was because he knew I would agree to it. I’m not precisely the sort to give up after one go.”