"It will be my pleasure and honor to do so," he replied with a gallant smile as he took his place beside Mariah. He then rapped sharply on the roof three times, which jolted the coach into motion.
The moment he sat beside her, Mariah felt a constricting sensation in her chest that had nothing to do with her stays. She was already far too aware of him for her peace of mind, and now their thighs were nearly touching, for heaven's sake! She pressed her body closer to the window in an effort to create more space.
While Lady Russell reclined against the squabs, Mariah peeked discreetly through the curtained coach window, hoping to distract herself with the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Traffic was heavy as they navigated the streets. Everywhere she looked there was noise and movement—vendors hawking wares from their barrows, burly footmen carrying elegant sedan chairs, and bellowing drivers cursing the pedestrians who darted dangerously through the two lanes of traffic. The air was also vaguely tainted with the mixed smells of horse droppings, refuse, and soot. Yet even under this sensory assault, Mariah remained almost painfully aware of the gentleman beside her.
"This must be your first visit to London, Lady Mariah?" Mr. Needham asked.
She released the velvet curtain as if it had scorched her. "Have I given myself away with my gawking?" Feeling her cheeks suffuse with fire, she dropped her gaze to her lap. "How gauche I must appear."
"Not at all," he chuckled warmly. "Your curiosity is delightful. After spending so much time in the city, it's all too easy for one to forget its many charms. How do you find London?"
"I find it utterly fascinating," she gushed. "It is so lively compared to the countryside."
"It is indeed," he agreed. "While there are many more beautiful cities on the Continent, and certainly much cleaner ones, London is quite unique in its character."
"I wish I had time to see more of it," she said wistfully. "But I promised to return home within a fortnight."
"Do you plan to come back to town for the season?" he asked.
"No. I cannot. I was supposed to have done so the year before last, but my father was struck ill and never fully recovered."
"You have my sympathies."
"You are very kind, Mr. Needham." She looked again to her lap. She didn't understand why she suddenly felt so awkward and self-conscious. Making polite conversation had never seemed such a burden. She wished she was more like Lydia, who was possessed of not only greater beauty, but a quicker wit and a clever tongue.
After a time, the traffic lessened. They had turned north out of the city, but the roads were ill repaired, and the jostling increased. Although she tried to maintain a decorous space between them, the rocking motion of the carriage kept throwing her smaller body against his larger one. Each time the coach jarred her into him, she got a whiff of his distinctive scent, a subtle musk hinting of bergamot.
Seeking distraction, she turned back to the window, but the next time she dropped the velvet curtain, she found Mr. Needham watching her most intently with his deep-set golden-brown eyes. Fighting the urge to fidget, Mariah forced a smile to her lips. "It appears we are leaving London. You mentioned visiting many other cities on the Continent. Have you traveled extensively, Mr. Needham?"
"Yes. Quite extensively. Marcus and I took our grand tour together, and then six years ago when he joined the Foreign Service, he asked me to become his secretary. We have lived abroad most of the time since."
"Which place is your favorite?" she asked.
"Italy," he answered without hesitation. "It is sunny and warm, as are the people. I particularly enjoyed Florence. My second favorite place would be the Dutch Republic. Probably because we spent the most time there."
"What were the people like?"
"I found the Dutch are quite similar to the English in their character."
"How do you mean?"
"Much like us, they are a pragmatic and industrious people who take great pride in their trade."
"Did you learn to speak their language?"
"I did. It behooves one to learn the local tongues. Marcus has a great command of Latin and French, the primary languages of diplomacy, while I have a respectable knowledge of German and Dutch, the tongues of our greatest allies. Speaking of which, would you be terribly offended if I reviewed some correspondence? I apologize for even asking you, but I've received some important letters for Marcus that require immediate translation. "
"I don't mind at all," Mariah replied, wondering if her colorless conversation had bored him. "Please feel free to attend to your duties."
"Thank you for your indulgence," he replied with a smile.