Carving for Miss Coventry by Deborah M. Hathaway

Chapter Twenty-Five

Edward could not sleep. He lay with his head back against the coach wall, bouncing uncomfortably against it with each hole in the road the coach did not miss, which he was fairly certain was all of them.

But that wasn’t what pained him. It was his heart pounding against his chest, squeezing tightly and twisting around to the point that he felt like a dry rag being rung of water that was not there.

Miss Coventry’s head against his shoulder would be the death of him. At least she’d managed to fall asleep. There was no other explanation for how she continued to nuzzle against his arm.

He could not believe his own resolve, for he wished to do nothing more than to wrap her in his embrace, not to protect her, but simply to hold her, to pretend that this remarkable woman was really his wife.

Another bounce of the stagecoach, and Miss Coventry brought her hand up to rest in the crook of his arm, her fingers encircling it.

His eyes flew wide open, and he stared at the blackness that was the inside of his hat.

He’d lost his senses at the ball, allowing himself to get wrapped up in the woman’s beauty and her vivacity for life. Thank goodness the older couple had shocked him back to reality, reminding him that he could never love Miss Coventry—no matter how naturally it came. He could not afford to.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the stagecoach pulled to a stop before the Blue Boar. He waited for the two gentlemen to unload and make for the inn before Edward even stirred.

He shifted against his seat, but Miss Coventry didn’t budge. How he longed to keep her there.

He moved again, but still she did not move.

Hesitating, he hovered his hand above her own for a moment before rubbing his thumb against the back of her glove. She sighed, leaning closer against his arm.

He ground his teeth together, his aching heart unable to take her sweet caress any longer. This woman was destroying him, one soft touch at a time.

“Miss Coventry,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“We’re in Ashwick.”

“Hmm.”

He smiled despite himself. The poor woman must be exhausted.

He rubbed his hand against the back of hers again until she stiffened, leaning up with rounded eyes.

“Forgive me,” she mumbled. “I did not realize I’d fallen asleep.” She roused Jane next without awaiting a response, then the three of them exited the carriage, ducking their heads and averting their eyes, though the street was veritably empty at more than an hour past midnight.

“I will see you both home,” Edward offered, and he was met with very little protest as Miss Coventry and Jane stared down the darkened street with a wary eye.

They opted out of using lanterns from the inn, for fear of alerting anyone to their presence as they continued on foot. Edward knew the way to Daffley Park by heart now, though the moon lit their pathway just enough for the three of them to travel safely side-by-side.

The walk was accomplished in silence, Miss Coventry and Jane no doubt half asleep as they traversed the darkened ground. By the time Daffley’s lights shone in the distance, Edward was fairly certain he had been walking in his sleep, too.

They paused beside a few oversized hedges near the house, close enough to see the door but far enough away for them to remain unseen.

Miss Coventry dismissed a weary looking Jane then turned to face Edward. “Thank you for seeing us home.”

He nodded. “You’re certain you shall be able to sneak in without notice?”

“My family will be at the ball for another hour or two. Papa always encourages them to stay late to maximize the chances of Beatrice making a match.”

Edward nodded. At least she appeared confident in her ability to predict where her family would be. He himself was unsure that he would arrive the next morning without Mr. Coventry awaiting him with a pitchfork and flaming torch. What would Edward say to his mother if he returned home without the finances to secure their future?

“Mr. Steele,” Miss Coventry said, breaking through his troubling thoughts, “I wish to thank you for what you’ve done for me today. I know how much you risked in doing so, and I wish I could tell you…” She broke off, shaking her head. “Your kindness will never be forgotten.”

He stared down at her, only the shadows on her face visible. How he longed to share what the day had meant to him as well, how he’d loved every moment he’d spent with her. Despite the risks, despite his fears of what may come…how could he regret the moments they’d shared?

But he could not complicate matters further with words. Instead, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a lingering kiss to the back of her glove. “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Hickenbottom.”

Even in the darkness, her smile lit her face. “Goodnight, Mr. Higgenbottom.”

Edward reluctantly released her hand. He motioned toward the house. “I’ll wait until you are safely inside.”

She nodded her gratitude then made for her home.

Edward did as he said, standing watch until the front door closed behind her.

Then reality sprawled its imposing figure once more across his shoulders. That woman deserved the world. Her father truly was a fool to keep her in.

And Edward was a fool for taking her out.