Roderick looked up from the book he’d been reading. “I thought you might like to sleep in a bed tonight. Was I wrong?”
Rolling her eyes, she straightened in the seat, working out the kinks in her back and neck the best she could. Even after all the breaks they’d taken during the very long journey during the day, her body was stiff. “I just didn’t realize Weston was so far from London.”
“We’ll be there tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ll make ourselves comfortable here.”
She turned her attention back to the window and studied the inn. It looked good enough, but she was surprised an earl would stay at a place that her family could afford. For some reason, she assumed he’d stay somewhere more expensive. Curious, she glanced at him. “Are we suffering financial hardships?”
“That would horrify you, wouldn’t it?”
“Forget I asked,” she snapped.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the coachman opened the door at that moment. Relieved, she hurried out of the carriage, pretending she didn’t notice when she accidentally kicked his foot on her way out. Despite her naps during the trip, she was exhausted. It was only her growling stomach that compelled her to stay awake. There would be time to sleep after dinner.
Roderick got out of the carriage and stood beside her. “Oh good. The roof hasn’t caved in yet.”
She shot him a pointed look and shook her head. “The inn is in fine condition. I’m not so daft that I can’t see that.”
Ignoring his nonchalant shrug that almost dared her to doubt her own words, she followed the coachman who picked up her valise and went to the entrance of the inn. If she was smart, she’d ignore Roderick for the rest of their trip. After they went into the inn, she followed the gentlemen up to a room and patiently waited for someone to indicate that she’d be sleeping in a separate room from Roderick’s but no one gave her that assurance.
She struggled not to show her apprehension while the coachman brought in the rest of her and Roderick’s things. Roderick left the room to talk to the innkeeper, hopefully to get his own room so he’d take his things out of her room as soon as possible. She paced the room, her gaze unwittingly going to the single bed. She tried to focus on other aspects of the room like the beautiful armoire, the large window with simple but pretty curtains, and the oval mirror hanging over a narrow table where a basin and pitcher full of fresh water waited for her to wash up. It wasn’t a fancy room by any means, but it was clean and well-kept.
The door to the room opened, so she turned toward it and saw Roderick. She waited for him to shut the door before she spoke. “When will you leave this room?”
“Tomorrow morning when we head out for Weston.”
She frowned as he placed his book on a small table by the bed. “Tomorrow morning?”
“Is your hearing all right?”
Her cheeks warmed. “My hearing is just fine. I can’t believe you don’t have enough money to stay in another room.”
“I didn’t say I don’t have the money.”
Taking a deep breath to keep herself from screaming, she pressed as calmly as possible, “Then why are you in my room?”
He sat on the bed and laughed. “Your room? I don’t recall anyone saying this is your room.”
She crossed her arms. “So do I have a room you’ll kindly show me to?”
“Goodness no. This is a popular inn. All the other rooms are full.”
“They can’t be!”
“I’m afraid they are. We’re stuck together in this mediocre room for the night. I hope you can manage it. It’s not quite what you believed your life would be like married to a titled gentleman, but it’s the reality of it.”
She grunted and headed for the door. “I’m going to demand my own room!”
“It won’t do you any good.”
She paused at the door, her hand on the doorknob. “But you’re lying. There are other rooms, and there are probably better rooms.”
“We’re going to be here tonight whether you like it or not. Even if there are rooms, you don’t have the money necessary to pay for it. All the funds are under my control, and that includes your dowry.”
Gritting her teeth, she turned to face him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He shrugged.
She hesitated a long moment, fingernails tapping the doorknob as she tried to figure out the best response she could come up with, but nothing—absolutely nothing—came to mind. She couldn’t very well head out of this inn and go back to London right now. For one, he was right here to stop her, and second, she had no way of getting a carriage ride back to London.
Letting go of the doorknob, she made a resigned sigh and went over to the open window. “Since I’m trapped, I suppose I should make the best of it.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He settled on the bed and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. Irritated, she stuck her head out the window and peered down at the people who were entering the inn. Though she knew it was completely unbecoming of a lady, she let out a shrill laugh. “Oh Lord Roderick, you really shouldn’t be doing that, you naughty gentleman you.”
To her satisfaction, he bolted up, stormed over to her, and slammed the window shut. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting my own room, my lord.”
“It won’t work. Now sit in the chair or on the bed and behave. Dinner will be brought up shortly.”
“I want my own room. I know very well you can afford it.”
“You’re not getting it,” he replied, his voice low but sharp.
She glared at him for a long moment, her gaze unwavering from his. She knew full well he was daring her to show a sign of weakness, and she refused to give in. If he wanted to play this game, then she could as well. After a full two minutes passed between them, she straightened her back and lifted her chin in the air.
“Very well,” she relented. “We’ll share this room tonight.” Giving a show of shrugging as if nothing bothered her, she walked by him, intentionally brushing against him so he’d have to step back. “The last time with you wasn’t memorable. I see no reason to think tonight will be either.”
Even as she said it, she knew she was asking for trouble, but something in her had snapped, and she was too upset to care about propriety. Acting like a lady be damned! The big oaf had it coming!
“Perhaps if you hadn’t been as drunk as a lady of ill repute, you would’ve remembered what happened that night,” he shot back.
She clenched her teeth. Blast it! It was just her luck he was quick with a comeback. Tilting her head in his direction, she arched an eyebrow. “And you have experience with such ladies that you would know?”
“I don’t believe my affairs are any of your business.”
“Neither are mine. Yours.” She stopped herself and tried to think of the proper way to word her response. “That is to say that my affairs are not your business either.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Not very clever.”
She got ready to speak when someone knocked on the door. Closing her mouth, she watched as he crossed the room and opened it. A gentleman brought in a table and a chair. After he set the table down, the other gentleman set a plate full of food down. The first gentleman set the chair in front of the plate. The two gentlemen nodded to Roderick and left.
She furrowed her eyebrows. “So you plan to let me go hungry?”
“I don’t know what you take me for,” he began, “but I won’t let you starve. You’ll eat here tonight, and I’ll eat downstairs. I won’t trouble your pretty little head with the details, but there are ways a gentleman can relax from a long day that don’t involve the nuisance of a lady.”
“The nuisance of a lady?” She placed her hands on her hips. He had a lot of nerve! “Being around you is as pleasant as having a nail in the foot.”
Ignoring what she considered to be a clever retort, he went to the door. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll return late.”
She
gritted her teeth as he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone. She went back to the window and opened it. A quick scan of the area showed her how fruitless it’d be to try to run off, and he knew very well she had no way of getting back to London. At least not yet. She’d have to wait until they were at Weston. One way or another, she was going to get back to London. Resigned to spending the night in the inn, she turned to the meal on the table and sat down to eat.
***
Nate rolled away from Claire as much as he could in the abnormally small bed. Funny how the bed hadn’t seemed so small earlier that day when they arrived at the inn, but in the night when everything was dark, it was definitely small. Perhaps it shrunk.
He gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, willing Lord Edon’s book and the memory of Claire as she stood naked in her bedchamber on their wedding night from his mind. Curse them both! He never should have read that very descriptive book on everything a lady enjoyed in bed. It actually included illustrations. And now that he was in extremely close proximity to a lady who felt terribly delightful with curves in so many right places it nearly drove him insane, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.
He debated leaving the bed and sleeping on the floor, but then she’d know she won. And there was no way he was letting her know he was weak! He could insist she act on her wifely duty, but considering the fact that she didn’t like him any more than he liked her, lovemaking wouldn’t be the pleasant experience he wanted it to be. Granted, he wasn’t expecting love and passion, but he had wanted it to be something amiable, something they could both enjoy.
He let out a weary sigh and checked the position of the moon. Just his luck. Dawn was a long ways off. This was, undoubtedly, going to be the longest night of his life. And to think he had ordered the innkeeper to give him one room because he wanted to punish her!
He glanced at her, noting her closed eyes and steady, deep breathing. She was fully clothed—in her morning dress of all things!—tonight, something he supposed he should be grateful for. If he was having trouble sleeping next to her while she wore her clothes, he could only imagine how it would be if she wore nightclothes or nothing. He shook his head in aggravation. Of course, she slept peacefully. She knew it would drive him to distraction to pretend that being so close to him in an intimate place didn’t affect her. She was pretending, wasn’t she? She couldn’t really be asleep. Yes, she was pretending. He was sure of it, and because she was pretending, he couldn’t afford to leave the bed.
Determined to see this night through to the bitter end, he rolled over and—not realizing he was already as far at the edge of the bed as he could get—fell to the floor with a loud thud. He bolted up, sure that Claire would open her eyes and prove she hadn’t actually been sleeping after all. But to his dismay, she let out a soft sigh and rolled onto her side so that her back was to him.
He rolled his eyes and settled back onto the bed, fully expecting her to give herself away by giggling, but no such evidence of her witnessing his embarrassing fall came. Instead, it was the steady breathing she employed so well. She was either truly asleep or very good at pretending.
Not that it mattered. He’d be better off trying to get whatever sleep he could instead of worrying about what Claire was thinking. Perhaps if he stopped thinking about her and focused on something else, he might drift off to sleep. Willing to give it a try, he took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and closed his eyes.
Napoleon. He’d think about Napoleon and the battles going on. But that didn’t work because when he thought of strategic maneuvers employed in wars, his mind unwittingly went to the strategies outlined in Lord Edon’s book—strategies that would ease Claire’s discomfort so she might find the consummation of their marriage pleasurable when they finally did it. He gritted his teeth. Fine. So strategies weren’t good. Then perhaps he might consider the differing viewpoints from the Whigs and Tories. It seemed to him that his marriage was similar. He and Claire had differing ideas on what a marriage should be like. Granted, there was a factor of convenience inherent for both of them. He needed an heir. She needed security. Of course, she found security in the form of frivolous spending, but could he be surprised? Wasn’t that why she went outside at the ball? So she could snare some poor unsuspecting bachelor into a trap?
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man. What was he doing by obsessing about something as basic as sex? It was merely a means to get an heir. That was it. Grunting, he sat up, fluffed his pillow and threw it back on the bed before he settled back down. Crossing his arms, he gave up on sleep and stared at the ceiling. There was no doubt about it. While his wife was going to sleep through the entire night, he wasn’t. So be it. There was plenty of time to sleep in the carriage, and when they arrived at Weston, the very first thing he’d do was make sure her bedchamber was ready for her so he wouldn’t have to share a bed with her for a very long time.
Chapter Eleven
As soon as the carriage pulled up to Weston the next day, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could finally go back to London! Across from her, Roderick was slumped in his seat, his arms crossed, and his eyes closed. She assumed he was asleep but couldn’t be sure.
The carriage came to a stop, and he bolted up in his seat. She jerked in surprise since she hadn’t expected his sudden movement. For a moment, they stared at each other, but then the footman opened the door. Neither one of them moved. She furrowed her eyebrows. Why didn’t he leave? He hadn’t always waited for her to go first.
“Lady Roderick?” the footman asked.
She blinked and turned her attention to him. Clearing her throat, she said, “I am returning to London.”
“Oh no, you’re not,” Roderick argued, his tone leaving no room for argument.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s no reason for me to be here.”
“There most certainly is. You need to give me an heir.”
Shocked that he would dare say that in front of the footman, her cheeks grew warm. “Since you insist on bringing this up right now, I’ll inform you that I already did my part. Now it’s a matter of waiting, unless you believe yourself inadequate to perform the task the first time.”
He gasped. “Might I remind you that such talk is inappropriate in front of others?”
“You’re the one who brought it up. Might I remind you that if you don’t want others to overhear what we’re saying, you need to keep your mouth shut until we’re alone?” Turning her attention back to the footman, she said, “I demand to go back to London at once.”
“She stays here,” Roderick ordered.
The footman glanced from one to the other and sighed. “I’ll help the coachman with the luggage.”
Shooting her a satisfied grin, Roderick left the carriage. She was determined to stay right there in the carriage—forever if she had to—but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. She wiggled against him in an effort to get away, but he was too strong for her.
“Will you behave or do I have to carry you inside like a wayward ward?” he snapped.
She grunted and pushed against him. “Let me go!”
His hold tightened around her, and he carried her into the house, ignoring the servants who had lined up in front of the manor. Had she not been so upset with him for forcing her to stay here against her will, she would have been horrified that the servants saw everything, but at the moment, she was too angry to think of what they might be gossiping about that night.
He took her to the drawing room and dumped her on the settee. She immediately rose to her feet, but he placed his hands on her shoulders and sat her back down. Before she could make another attempt to bolt for the door, he strode over to the door and slammed it.
Not to be deterred by his anger, she crossed her arms and glared at him. “I will not stay here.”
He strode over to her. “We did not consummate the marriage.”
She blinked. “Of course, we did. You came to my bed
chamber.”
“To tell you I couldn’t go through with it. I’m a civilized man. I would never force myself on a lady, even if she is conniving.”
Her nails dug the sleeves covering her arms. “I’ve had enough with being insulted. You, my lord, are either deaf or dumb, for nothing I say seems to make little difference. You want to believe I manipulated you into marrying you, then believe it. If you want to believe I wish to run all over London spending your money with reckless abandon, then believe that, too. But don’t insult my intelligence by telling me we didn’t consummate the marriage.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held her hand up to stop him. She rose to her feet so she could look him straight in the eye. “I could be expecting a child right now, and I can be just as pregnant in London as I can be here.”
“I promise you that you aren’t with child. Sorry, Claire, but until you give me an heir, you’re stuck with me.”
“You, my lord, are no gentleman.”
“And you, my countess, are no lady.” He lifted his chin in the air and looked down at her. “If you refuse to take my word for what did not happen on our wedding night, that’s your problem. But I assure you I did not go to bed with you. When your monthly flow comes, you’ll discover you are not with child, and at that point, I’ll accept your apology.”
“Lack of a child won’t prove anything. It took my mother a year to conceive my sister.”
“At this rate, it’ll take us over a year to even consummate the marriage. You aren’t leaving Weston until I know you’re carrying a child, so if you want to go to London so badly, I suggest you be nice enough to me so we can get the matter over with.”
“Be nice to you?” she asked, appalled by his audacity. “When you’ve done nothing but accuse me of wrongdoing from the moment we were engaged? I suggest you start being nice to me.”
“I have been nice to you. In good faith, I let you shop using my credit, and you thought so little of my gesture that you ran amok through the store as if you and that sister of yours had absolutely no clothes.”
The Earl's Inconvenient Wife (Marriage By Scandal Book 1) Page 10