sound to her bridegroom if it was the last thing he did.
The next morning dawned bright and clear and Drew lost no time in making his arrangements. These went well and with the late-summer sun beating down upon him he began to think the task ahead was not quite so onerous. A few days on the road and once they reached London he could hand Miss Elyse Salforde over to Lord Whittlewood. Mrs Matthews had sent him a polite note, inviting him to join them for dinner and he had grinned as he read it. He doubted her niece was in favour of the idea. She had spent most of the previous evening glaring at him, and in truth he knew he had deserved it. He had ridden her hard and given no sign that he found her attractive. She had more than enough admirers and he was not going to add to their number.
Amongst the fashionable beauties of London she might not stand out quite so much, but in a provincial spa town like Scarborough she was undoubtedly a diamond, and far too conscious of her own worth. It would do Miss Salforde no harm at all to be brought down to earth a little and if she tried her tricks upon him then he would do it.
Having finished his business he made his way to the beach to watch the horse racing. He spent a pleasant couple of hours discussing horseflesh with other observers, placing wagers, losing a little money, winning even more before quitting the sands. It was still early and there was time to spare before he needed to change for his dinner engagement, so he decided to stroll through the town. The streets were busy and it was not long before a familiar figure caught his eye.
Miss Salforde was coming towards him in the company of an elderly lady and gentleman. She wore a dark grey cloak over her black gown and it looked out of place against the more colourful attire of her companions. As they approached he recognised the couple as Mr and Mrs Oliver, guests at Mrs Matthews’s party last night. He was relieved to see that Elyse was not escorted by any of her young swains. It seemed the chit had some proper feeling, after all.
It soon became apparent that the Olivers had recognised him. When they came up they stopped to acknowledge his bow and exchange courtesies. Only Elyse looked less than pleased to see him, standing back from her friends and looking beyond him with every appearance of haughty indifference.
‘We are making our daily visit to the spa,’ offered the old gentleman, the improbably brown hair of his bagwig making a stark contrast to the white whiskers and eyebrows that adorned his aged face. ‘But first we are escorting Miss Salforde to the circulating library and home again.’
Elyse looked a little self-conscious when she realised she was the centre of attention, lifting her hands to show him the books she was carrying.
‘I must needs return them before I leave town.’
‘We called upon Mrs Matthews to thank her for her hospitality last evening and she told us the exciting news,’ explained Mrs Oliver. ‘You are all off to London! I am sure the ladies must be very pleased they have you to escort them, Mr Bastion. One can hire a courier, I know, but there is nothing so comforting as having a gentleman in attendance.’
Drew bowed.
‘Indeed, ma’am. But—is the library not out of your way?’
‘Oh, nothing to speak of,’ replied Mr Oliver gallantly. ‘We will make a little detour, of course, but we are happy to do so, since Mrs Matthews would have had to send her maid, and she has told us how much there is do if everything is to be packed up in time. We do not begrudge a little extra walking, do we my dear?’
His wife concurred readily, but Drew’s eyes dwelled thoughtfully upon the way the old gentleman leaned upon his stick.
‘If you wish I would happily accompany Miss Salforde to the library, and save you the extra journey.’ He saw Elyse’s start of surprise, her look of alarm.
‘Oh, but I could not possibly impose upon you,’ she began, flustered.
He gave a wide smile that encompassed all three of them, saying easily, ‘It is no imposition. I have nothing to do until dinnertime and would enjoy the diversion.’
‘Well, that is exceeding kind of you, my boy,’ declared Mr Oliver, beaming. ‘And nothing could be better, Miss Salforde, for there can be no harm in leaving you in the company of your guardian, what?’ He gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘And I’ve no doubt you will much prefer to be accompanied by this handsome young fellow, eh?’
‘No, indeed, Mr Oliver, I am more than happy to remain with you and Mrs Oliver.’
Elyse’s response was heartfelt, Drew was sure, but her elderly friends thought she was merely sparing their feelings. They laughed aside her protests and said goodbye, strolling away and leaving Elyse standing beside Drew. She was regarding him solemnly, a discontented frown marring her perfect features. His lips twitched.
‘I have no doubt they are very kind,’ he said smiling, ‘But to escort you to the circulating library and back again would have added a good mile or so to their perambulations.’ He held out his arm. ‘Shall we walk on?’
Elyse knew she had no choice. The streets were busy and to refuse his escort and walk unaccompanied through the town where she was so well known would expose her to censure, and there was even the risk of being accosted. Also, she thought indignantly, she doubted he would let her walk away from him. How she wished now that she had declined Mr and Mrs Oliver’s kindly offer and waited for Hoyle to come with her—or she could even have sent a footman on the errand.
Curbing such futile regrets she assumed her chilliest demeanour and placed the very tips of her fingers on his sleeve as they set off through the busy streets. She was aware of the attention they were attracting. She acknowledged politely the sly smiles and nods of her many acquaintances but ignored their knowing looks. She noted too the admiring glances that were cast at her escort. His height immediately drew the eye, and there was no denying that his figure was good. It showed to advantage in his russet coat of superfine wool with its silver-gilt buttons. There was no creasing or straining of the material across his broad shoulders or where it tapered gently to his waist before flaring out, and even then a vent in the heavy folds allowed his sword to pass through without marring the elegant lines. In normal circumstances she would have been very pleased to be seen on the arm of such a handsome gentleman, but the circumstances were far from normal and she could not forget his odious behaviour towards her the previous evening. He interrupted her reverie by remarking with a laugh in his voice,
‘It behoves us to have some conversation, Miss Salforde.’
‘I did not realise I was obliged to entertain you.’
‘To escort such a beautiful lady is entertainment enough.’
She could not resist a glance at him as she said drily, ‘Trying to turn me up sweet, Mr Bastion?’
‘Could I do so?’
The glint in his eyes challenged her and she fought down the impulse to smile back at him. Instead she looked away and said in an indifferent tone, ‘You have certainly charmed my aunt.’
‘I have no doubt she is relieved to have someone share the responsibility for your guardianship. You must be a sad trial to her.’
‘That is not it at all,’ she retorted, nettled. ‘I am not the least trouble, I assure you. In fact I am of great use to her.’
‘Oh?’
