Dashiell fingered the heavy gold signet ring on his fourth finger. There were things that needed doing and things that needed saying. He would tell her when they returned to the inn. He would tell her he loved her, he would tell her who he was and that he wanted to marry her and live this adventure forever.
Chapter Eleven
It was nearing four in the morning when Dashiell bundled their things back into the carriage. Elisabeth had declared with a yawn that she had all the data she needed for her reports. Even now, she dozed against his shoulder, her adrenaline pleasantly spent.
They pulled into the inn yard and Dashiell shook her awake. ‘Let’s get you to bed.’
Even in sleep, her wits were still sharp. ‘You’re waking me up to put me to bed? That seems counter-productive.’
‘That depends on your interpretation of going to bed,’ Dashiell answered with a warm laugh that said he was up for anything in spite of the late hours they’d been keeping.
‘You’re incorrigible.’
Dashiell gave instructions to the coachman to put up the horses and rest until the afternoon. Elisabeth swayed wearily against him. He steadied her with an arm about her waist. He’d see her settled in bed and come back for their things.
Dashiell pushed open the door to their room and halted, his grip on Elisabeth tightening. ‘Darling, I think we have company.’
He felt Elisabeth stiffen, shedding all her fatigue in an instant. ‘Dear Lord, my father.’
And six footmen, Dashiell added silently. Graybourne meant to take Elisabeth one way or another. Dashiell knew enough about angry fathers to know this was not going to be pleasant nor was it going to be peaceful.
‘Come away from him, Elisabeth,’ her father barked, rising from behind the table. He was a formidable figure even at fifty with his commanding presence and shrewd, dark eyes.
Elisabeth met his gaze evenly. She would not give in. This was her moment to prove she would not be ruled in such a high-handed fashion. This was the moment she’d talked about in the carriage and she seized it with one word. ‘No.’
Her father’s eyebrows went up. ‘No, is it? I suppose next you will tell me the two of you are in love. A few days ago I might have met this announcement with a certain amount of equanimity but not anymore.’
He moved around the table and waved a silver-headed walking stick in Dashiell’s direction. ‘Originally I thought Heathridge’s heir would be an acceptable match for my daughter but the more I looked into your background, Steen, and your uncle’s massive indebtedness, the more I disliked the idea.’
Heathridge.
Elisabeth gave a little cry, a hand rushing to her mouth to hold it back. The name struck her with the force of a physical blow. What had seemed like a fantasy now seemed more like a conspiracy. He’d known who she was since they’d left Sir Richard’s house, yet he’d said nothing of his own identity. She shot Dashiell a look in hopes he’d deny it. But he was pale and tense, bearing her father’s tirade with a stoicism born of acceptance.
Oh, God, it was true.
Her father wasn’t done. He fixed Dashiell with a hard stare. ‘Perhaps you guessed at my disapproval and absconded with my daughter to force my hand.’
‘I have nothing but sincere regard for your daughter,’ Dashiell said. ‘I will not stand here and be harangued without a chance to respond.’
‘Sincere regard?’ Her father scoffed at the notion, his eyes narrowing in anger. ‘Is it sincere regard when you run off with an innocent girl and conceal your true identity from her? I can tell from the look on her face she had no idea who you were. Apparently you took no steps to correct that.’
‘Elisabeth, I should have told you. I was going to tell you today.’ Dashiell turned towards her, remorse filling his eyes. ‘Nothing we’ve done is a lie. The only regret I have is not telling you who I was. Please believe me.’
‘Enough of your twaddle, Steen.’ Her father cut in. ‘Come away from him, Elisabeth, I won’t ask again. We’ll go home and let your mother patch things up as best she can.’
She had to decide quickly. Dashiell was telling the truth. He hadn’t known ahead of time. Hadn’t he even said as much? He’d thought she was a thief. The look of surprise when he’d discovered she was Graybourne’s daughter could not be feigned, nor the incredulous words he’d uttered afterwards.
Elisabeth slipped a hand into Dashiell’s. ‘No, you don’t understand. He’s done nothing wrong. I climbed out of my window to see the comet. He happened to be in the garden…’
How to explain what happened next? They’d jumped into a carriage, driven off into the night and somehow between that night and this morning they’d fallen in love. At least she had.