“My parents never woke me with endearments. In truth, I don’t recall them ever entering my bedroom for any reason. I was put to bed and awakened by a nanny when I was younger, and later by my governess. When I outgrew my need for a governess, it was maids who attended me. My mother never opened her eyes before noon. My father often did not come home until well after I was up and attending to my lessons.”
“I’m sorry they were so neglectful of you, Syd. Do you mind that I kissed you?”
“Not at all.” She smiled at him again. “Can we add this to one of your rules? I know how you adore them.”
He laughed. “Yes, we shall make a new list for our marriage. Top rule shall be to kiss you every morning.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “That is perfect. Shall I do the same for you?”
“Kiss me awake? No, Syd.”
“Oh.” She dropped her arms and cast him a disappointed look. “I see.”
“No, you do not see at all. I am trained for battle. My instincts are to lash out and strike whoever sneaks up on me, so do not stick your face in mine until I am awake. Then you may kiss me to your heart’s content.”
“And you won’t complain?”
“No, Syd. I am not ever going to complain about your kissing me.” He took her hand in his. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m famished.”
She inhaled. “That does smell good.”
They ate their breakfast, then took turns washing and dressing. Octavian liked helping Syd each morning with the hooks, tapes, and lace ties of her gowns. Once they were back in London, she would have ample assistance from the maids on the Huntsford staff who would likely do a better job of helping her put herself together. Still, this time spent alone with her was something he would always remember and cherish.
He watched Syd pin her hair in a simply styled chignon. As soon as she was done, he gathered their few belongings and carried them to their waiting carriage. Their driver, a reliable man of about forty years by the name of Felix Henshaw cast him an amiable smile. “Mighty kind of yer lordship to pay for my room at the inn. I could have taken a bed above the stables.”
“We pushed hard yesterday, Mr. Henshaw. I appreciated your effort.”
“Thank ye, m’lord.”
Syd, who was only a few steps behind him, now greeted their driver with cheer. “Good morning, Mr. Henshaw,” she said, handing him up a small basket.
The man took it from her with a questioning look. “Mornin’, m’lady. What’s this?”
“We’ll be moving quickly again today, so I had the inn’s cook make up a picnic basket for you. I had them make up one for Captain Thorne and myself, as well,” she said, now handing Octavian the other small basket to place in the carriage. “It is nothing extravagant, some fruit, cheese, and a loaf of bread to hold us until we stop again. The food was particularly good here, don’t you think, Mr. Henshaw?”
“Aye, m’lady. It was.”
“Good idea, Syd,” Octavian muttered, knowing that having provisions would be useful if they ran into trouble and had to hide out. Today was the day when they would either be married or have their plans thwarted because Sir Henry had caught up to them.
He placed his hands around Syd’s waist to help her into the carriage, his body immediately responding to her softness. There was nothing to be done about his feelings for her other than go along with them. He would have time in the carriage to contemplate why his heart had chosen her.
He thought Syd would close her eyes once they were on the road again, but she remained awake and began to fret instead. “Octavian…”
He stifled a groan. “What is on your mind, Syd?”
She regarded him as the carriage jounced along the hills and dales. “I’m glad it is you that I am marrying.”
He arched an eyebrow and smiled in relief. Is this all that concerned her? “So am I.”
“No regrets?”
He shook his head. “Not a one.”
“Do you think my father and Sir Henry are waiting for us in Gretna Green?”
He did not wish to lie to her. “It is a possibility. This is why we are going to pull off the road a short distance outside of town and I will scout the area first.”
She nodded. “Yes, that is prudent. I’ll go with you.”
