Page 49 of His Bluestocking Bride

In minutes, they were at the back of the house and Marcus brought Ellen to his horse. With no mounting block in sight, Marcus put his hands on her waist and lifted Ellen into the saddle. She blushed and quickly adjusted her seat so he could swing up behind her.

The coachman had been instructed to wait until the road was passable. This meant that once Ellen and Marcus turned out of the Banners’ lane, they were alone in a world of white.

Ellen reveled in the feeling of his arms around her, even if it was just to keep control of the horse. He had never held her before. Never embraced her. To be so near him that should she wish it she could turn and press a kiss to his cheek—

She swiftly pulled that thought back and stiffened in the saddle. Realizing she had let her thoughts carry her into a realm of fantasy, when she needed to stay firmly in reality, dimmed her enjoyment of the situation considerably.

Marcus must’ve noticed the shift in her body, if not in her mood. “I hope I didn’t ruin things for you, coming as I did.” He spoke in a tone that matched their surroundings, his words calm and soft.

She matched his manner of speaking, not wanting to disturb the silence around them. “No, it’s a relief to be going home. The Banners are wonderful hosts, but I’d far rather be in front of my own hearth at night.”

Did she imagine it, or did he lean closer to her?

“I missed our reading together last night.”

The admission made her heart stutter and stumble as it picked up speed. Had he really? His next words caused still greater confusion within her.

“And I worried after you for some time.”

Ellen felt his warm breath on the back of her neck when he spoke. His arms around her shifted, the one at her back adjusting to hold her closer to his chest. She bit her lip and turned to see his expression.

Marcus saw her look and smiled. He winked at her. “Uphill here.”

Oh. He was making certain she was secure as they tilted back, the horse climbing a small embankment to leave the road for an open, snow-covered field. When they evened out again, she leaned away, determined to put the distance between them before he could. If she initiated the move it would be less painful than him withdrawing.

For a long time, they were both silent, but when she caught sight of a line of apple trees she recognized, Ellen relaxed.

“Nearly there,” he said, as though he’d read her mind. Then he added, with hesitation, “After you have rested we might read what we missed last evening?”

Ellen closed her eyes, imagining she heard the same hope in his voice she felt in her heart. All she wanted, all she needed to be happy, was to be near him. Even though it hurt, at times, to know he would never care for her as she cared for him.

“That would be lovely,” she answered at last.

They said nothing more until they arrived home at Orchard Hill.

Chapter Twenty

The days continued on as they had before, except Ellen saw more of Marcus than previously. He joined her for tea without being reminded, or he appeared at her elbow if she entered the library, and he came into the music room while she practiced the pianoforte. He remained attentive when in her company. Their dinners together continued as usual and his enjoyment of their time reading together lifted her heart.

They finished The Wild Irish Girl and turned to reading Shakespeare, taking turns with the parts of The Taming of the Shrew. But Marcus insisted on reading for Kate, making Ellen laugh heartily every time he pitched his voice as high as it would go. He asked her to read Petruchio with equally humorous results.

The roads eventually cleared, and the news came from London that passage would be safe, at least until the next storm. Their things were packed in a hurry. They must go to London for at least part of the Season to show support to his brother.

“And allow Mother to throw us a wedding ball. She enjoys her parties,” Marcus informed her.

Ellen winced at the thought of being the center of attention, but she knew it to be her duty to appear when the family desired. Besides, having never been to London for the Season, she thought standing up at a ball would be a small price to pay to enjoy the other spectacles of society.

“As long as I can also attend a few plays, maybe see the museums?” Though she meant to make it a condition of her attendance at their ball, it came out sounding a great deal like a request.

Marcus grinned at her over the portmanteau he held. He had brought it down from the attic for her use. “I would have thought you would be interested in the libraries and booksellers. I thought we could go together to find new volumes for our humble library.”

“Together?” Her excitement made her bounce on her toes. “Yes, please. I would like that very much.”

He bowed. “Make certain all is ready; we leave in the morning.” Without another word, he disappeared down the hall.

The journey would take four days, if they stopped when they had no sun to travel further.

“It would be wonderful,” she murmured when they were both in the carriage after several hours, “to make a journey of this distance in but a day.”