Eli dismissed the footman with a brief nod, then held his own hand out for Emily to clasp as she climbed into the carriage. He cared not that it was considered uncouth. Why allow another to take my wife's hand, when I might assist her myself? He climbed into the carriage behind her, and the step was put up shortly and the door closed.
Holding in a sigh of relief as they started down the drive, Eli glanced at his bride, seated across from him, and searched for any signs of anxiety or sorrow as she left her home to journey to his.
He noted no tears, and her hands lay placidly in her lap. Not too nervous, then. That was good. He'd enough nerves for both of them. It had been one thing to speak his mind to the baron, but it was another entirely to figure out how to please his new wife. Fortune and her colt could not travel yet, so she would miss her horse, at least. He hoped the pair he had purchased would do decently for riding until such time as she and Fortune might be reacquainted.
"Penny for your thoughts," he said when another minute had passed in which neither had spoken.
"I am indeed thinking of pennies-and pounds. I was wondering how much this fine carriage has set you back, on top of the license, your clothing-and all other expenses you've incurred on my behalf in the past two weeks."
"Ah … Money worries already." Eli settled into the seat more comfortably, stretching his legs out to the side of hers. "The carriage is used, and I obtained it at a fair price. You should know I'm a shrewd bargainer." He winked. "I considered borrowing or renting one, but I wish you to be able to return home to visit your family whenever you like."
"That is very thoughtful of you."
"I am nothing, if not thoughtful." Eli grinned. "On top of being shrewd, that is."
"Humble too, I see." Emily returned his smile.
"What else are you wondering about?" Eli asked, grateful for her teasing that had lessened the awkwardness between them. Conversing with Emily had always been easy, and he did not wish that to change now. Though their previous encounters had been brief, and he had kept strictly to the rules, regarding her as his employer, she had often chatted with him as he readied her horse, inquiring about the animals he cared for and even about himself at times.
"I am curious who my new husband really is," she confessed. "Since the moment you turned to face me in the church, I have wondered where the gentle, bearded giant who cares for our horses has gone. I believed I was marrying Eli Linfield, head groomsman, and instead I am discovering you are much more."
"Having a title makes me more?" he asked warily. Gentle, bearded giant?
She shook her head. "That is not what I meant. You have been without home or family since you were eleven. You've lost both parents and had to fend for yourself from a young age. Your father would not acknowledge you-in society, anyway. You-"
"Wait." Eli held up a hand. "Let me address those points you have made already, before you bring up any more."
"Of course." Emily looked away, as if abashed.
He nudged her foot with his own. "There is nothing you cannot ask me. It is all right to be curious. You need not feel embarrassed about anything. We are husband and wife."
This speech brought a return of the pink he so loved to her cheeks.
To set her at ease, Eli began the story of his parents' courtship, as told him by his mother. It had seemed a fairytale to him as a boy, the story of two children growing up together in the splendid gardens of Claymere. They had run and played and laughed, and, as they grew older, read and talked and walked together on the vast estate. Then one day something both frightening and magical had happened. The boy had kissed the girl and asked her to wait for him while he was several years away at school.
She did, never marrying another, never even allowing herself to be courted by any of the boys in the village, though she was very beautiful. They wrote letters secretly. His family would not approve.
Her father grew ill and died unexpectedly.
"And when he received her letter telling of the tragedy, my father came home as quickly as he could," Eli said, wistful at this part of the story as he always was, regretting that he had never had the opportunity to know his grandfather.
"Did she find your father much changed?" Emily asked. Her blushes had long since passed, her attention rapt throughout his tale.
"Not as much as one might believe," Eli said. "He was similar to you-having lived in the world of the spoiled without becoming spoiled himself."
"He still loved her?" Emily seemed almost breathless as she asked the question.
"Yes." Eli imagined his father had felt very much like he did at this moment, looking at Emily, knowing she was truly his-in name, at least. Now he must win her heart. "My father was to stay at Claymere for the summer, learning to manage affairs there. Though the gardens and grounds are magnificent, the manor is considerably smaller than Collingwood. His parents would never have allowed him to be there, had they any inkling that what they had perceived to be the infatuation of his childhood was actually the love of his life.
"The weekend after the funeral, he and my mother eloped to Gretna Green. They returned home married, no one the wiser. She continued to live in the gardener's cottage. He stayed at the manor, but they spent time together every day, and he came to the cottage as often as he might."
"How long was it before they were found out?" Emily, on the edge of her seat now, leaned forward eagerly.
Eli wondered how many months it might be before she leaned toward him like that for another reason, or if she might ever look at him as she was, anticipating a kiss instead of a story.
"Both my mother and father told me it was a wonderful, glorious summer-the happiest of their lives."
"Just one summer? How sad." Emily fell back against her seat.
"It is," Eli agreed. Feeling bold, he moved to her side of the carriage and sat beside her. "I want our story to be different."
"It is already," Emily said. "We did not share our childhood as your parents did."
"Perhaps not," Eli said. "But I remember watching for and then waving to you daily, for many months, summer after summer, a girl in blue out riding her father's property. You may not have realized it, but seeing you was often the best part of my day."
"I so wanted to ride over to meet the boy who always greeted me." Emily smiled warmly. "I was afraid to disobey my father and leave our property, but I wish now that I had. We might have made acquaintance so much earlier."
"A wish for what is past is no good," Eli said. "A wish for the future is what matters."
"Let us make one, then," Emily suggested.
"All right. What shall we wish for?" He angled his body on the seat so that he was facing her.
"We should wish for many wonderful, glorious summers."
"And winters, too," Eli added.
"Autumns and springs as well. Those are some of my favorite times of year."
"Mine too," he said. "How about simply wishing for years-a great many of them, spent together happily."
"Yes." She gave a resolute nod. "That is a good wish."
"Then it shall be ours, and much more than a wish. It will be the beginning of a beautiful life together." He pounded on the roof.
The carriage began to slow almost at once, and when it had stopped completely, Eli rose from his seat and opened the door. Without waiting for the step he jumped down and held his hands out for Emily.
She leaned forward and he caught her around the waist, lowering her carefully to the ground.
"Still a gentle giant, I see." She smiled up at him.
"You make me sound like some monstrosity." He stuck his lip out, pretending hurt.
"Not at all." Emily leaned back, over exaggerating her need to tilt her head to look up at him. "It is just that for as long as I can remember you have been so much taller than me. You were always able to help me up on a horse with little effort, yet you never boasted of your strength as some of the other stable hands did."
"Because my strength is naught compared to your beauty." He took her hand and pulled her from the road, into the field beyond, searching until he found what he was looking for. Bending low, he snapped a dandelion from the ground and held it between them. "We can make our wish with this."
Emily looked up at him through her eyelashes, a speculative expression in her gaze. "Mr. Linfield, how do you know about wishing on dandelions?"
"I may have seen a certain young lady do it once or twice before."
"Did you used to spy on me?" Emily's free hand went to her hip.
"I wouldn't call it spying, but more watching out for your safety every now and again. I was never close enough to hear anything you said. I haven't any idea whom those wishes were for. Though I do admit to being curious. It is believed, is it not, that if all the seeds blow away your love returns your affection."