Today's Reading
Sylvia couldn't help but laugh as she leaned back into the comfortable soft furnishing of the carriage. The man had to be wealthy, certainly, with a luxurious carriage like this. What on earth was he doing here?
'Miss Pike,' she explained ruefully. 'I suppose it was indecorous to call her the Pike, but honestly, the way she swims about the Wallflower Academy looking for prey, it does suit her. The fact that she happened to be in London that day was most unfortunate. The second time—'
'Do you make a habit of running away?' Mr Featherstonehaugh spoke with a sardonic air, an eyebrow raised and brow unfurrowed.
He appeared to have relaxed. Which was all to the good, Sylvia thought. It would be a most awkward journey to London if he was going to fret all the way.
'It is not so much a habit as an indictment of my success.' She sighed. 'Though I have faith in you.'
'In me?' Mr Featherstonehaugh looked taken aback.
Sylvia nodded with a grin. 'Yes, you are by far the most pleasant person I have attempted to rope into an attempt. Now, are we to be off?'
Once again, the man glanced at the door. 'No. We certainly are not.'
'Gentlemen have far more resources than us poor ladies,' Sylvia said, deciding to attempt to tug on the man's heartstrings. Honestly, could he not see she was in distress?
Perhaps not. That was the trouble with being so forthright, she supposed. She should ape Daphne, and ensure her eyes were red-ringed before she ever endeavoured anything like this.
Well, she could try.
'I just— I just want to escape,' she said, ensuring her voice quivered ever so slightly.
Mr Featherstonehaugh's raised eyebrow did not lower.
Sylvia gave it up immediately. Falsifying her temperament never had been her style. 'Being semi-imprisoned in a marriage factory is all well and good for those who wish to be married, but as I have no desire in that direction, I'm getting out.'
'You do not wish to be married?'
No, and she wasn't going to explain why to a stranger in a carriage until it was on the road. Sylvia fixed him with a glare. 'Look, man, are you going to help me or not?'
A snatch of conversation floated into the carriage. The day was stifling, and if Sylvia had known they would waste so much time just sitting on the drive, she would not have closed the door.
As it was, the voices crept through, regardless. 'When will he leave?'—a duke!—'Sylvia's eyes widened as she turned back to Mr Featherstonehaugh.
At least, that was what she had assumed. Theodore Featherstonehaugh.
That was his name, but she had interrupted him, had she not? Prevented him from giving his full title.
Now, this was far more interesting.
'You are a duke—how delightful,' she said cheerfully. 'I shall add you to my collection.'
He stared with wide eyes. 'No, I'm Featherstonehaugh—'
'The Duke of Featherstonehaugh—a mouthful indeed. Of course, you are not the first duke I have met,' Sylvia continued conversationally. 'My friend Gwen married one. Rilla married an earl, though I'm not quite sure what she sees in him. Now, if I was going to choose a husband—'
'I must insist that you leave,' said the Duke firmly.
Sylvia just as firmly ignored him. '—then I am not certain that I would wish to marry an earl. Oh, it's all very well and good, I suppose—'
'Please, get out of the carriage,' the Duke said in a tone that suggested retribution if disobeyed.
Sylvia tried her best to ignore him, but it was a challenge when a gentleman was clearly desperate not to have her in his carriage. 'I wouldn't want to become a countess. What a dry title.'
The Duke fixed her with a serious look, one of concern and slight irritation. 'Miss Bryant. Please. I cannot take you to London. The impropriety—impossible. You must return to the Wallflower Academy.'
'Oh, must I?' Sylvia shot back, the frustration she had forced down finally spiking in her tone.
But the man did not appear to be cowed by her sharpness. His gaze held hers unflinchingly, and when he spoke it was with a calmness quite at odds with her fiery determination. 'You must.'
...
