Her blush deepened. It was so embarrassing. Absolutely mortifying. She could still feel his hands upon her body. How was she ever going to look him in the eye again?
She tried to turn herself the other way so that she wasn’t facing him at all. The coach rattled on into the night. She felt the tension between them, but she couldn’t look at him. How could she have had such a shocking, intimate dream? Especially about a complete stranger?
She couldn’t remembereverhaving a dream like it before, about anyone.
She was supremely conscious of his body next to hers. Resolutely, she tried to ignore it. This was a very strange trip, in more ways than one. How she wished that it didn’t take so long to get to Bradford. The sooner this trip ended, and she was safely away from him, the better.
***
Ambrose watched her twisting her body so that she was facing the other way. Miss Delia Parker seemed to be very embarrassed indeed that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder.
Everyone else in the carriage had fallen asleep, too. Sister Mary Majella looked serene in her slumber. Miss Tilney had a faint crease in her brow, as if she were scolding someone in her sleep. Mr Hawkins was sprawled, taking up most of the opposite side of the carriage, so the two women wedged on either side of him were pinned against the walls.
Mr Giles was snoring, a faint hiss that was the only sound within the coach. He had ample opportunity to study Miss Parker’s face while her head was lolling on his shoulder, even if he couldn’t see much in the darkness.
The fineness of her features continued to amaze him. He wanted to reach out a hand and trail a finger over them, to feel them as well as behold them. She had appeared to be dreaming, for her eyelids were twitching, as if she were watching something in her sleep. And then, she had groaned softly, burrowing into him.
It had been one of the most sensual sounds he had ever heard. And the feel of her body turning into him had set his own on fire.
But now she was determined to put some distance between them, even if it was a useless enterprise in this crowded space. He felt the loss of her intensely. And once again, he pondered the puzzle of her.
She had claimed that she spoke in such a genteel accent because she had been well-educated. A benefactor who had gifted her tuition at a good school. He supposed it was possible. Sometimes well-to-do people decided to be benevolent and take a poor person under their wing in such a way. But he had never heard of it happening to anyone.
She claimed that she was seeking work as a governess in Bradford, which meant that she must have received a good education. He had noted the smoothness of her hands when she had taken her gloves off briefly. She had never worked in a manual job—her hands were simply too soft. Miss Delia Parker was no maid or kitchen hand.
What was she?
He frowned, recalling that Miss Tilney had asked what work she had done in Surrey, but she had never replied. There were still more questions than answers about her. She was a contradiction, indeed.
He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. He should try to get some rest. But it was a hard endeavour sitting next to this beautiful, intriguing woman. It was a long time before he felt himself finally drift into slumber.
***
Delia jolted awake. Bright sunlight filled the coach. For a moment, she was confused. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. Fear gripped her heart.
She blinked, trying to clear the fog of sleep from her mind. She felt groggy and disoriented. And then it all came back to her.
She had swapped places with Minnie. She was a runaway. She was travelling in a public stagecoach with five strangers to an unknown town in the North of England.
The enormity of what she had done hit her in the chest with the force of a hammer. It was clearly morning, which meant that Papa must be aware by now that she had run away. He must be searching for her.
Fear overwhelmed her again.What had happened to Minnie? Was she safe? Had she managed to get away and secure a seat on a different stagecoach heading north?
A hundred questions buzzed around in her mind like a hive of angry bees. But she knew they were all pointless. There was no way of knowing what had happened back in Surrey, and it was a useless endeavour to waste all her energy upon them. Worrying would drain her, and it would make her sloppy.
She must live in the present. She must get safely to Bradford, for Minnie’s sake as much as her own.
The other passengers were awakening now. Mr Hawkins stretched, then slapped his face. Sister Mary Majella blinked owlishly. Miss Tilney sighed, straightening her dress, looking irritable and weary. Mr Giles, seated next to her, was pale and muttering to himself.
She didn’t dare turn to look at Mr Hartfield. Did she?
But as soon as the thought entered her mind, it was as if she was compelled. Slowly, she turned, her heart thumping hard. The shocking dream rushed into her mind.
He had been touching her. She had lain in his arms in a field of daisies. She had never felt such desire in her life.
He was looking out the carriage window, his face in profile. She noted the long, smooth length of his nose and chiselled jawline. She felt another pang of desire. It astounded her. She didn’t know this man at all, and yet she felt such a strong connection to him. It was as if an invisible cord was running from her body into his.
She was overwhelmed with the urge to get to know him better.