Mary stopped pacing beside the window and touched the curtains. “She said she had the rooms prepared, but they’re actually a bit dusty. Tomorrow, I should--”
“Mary!” Leona interrupted. “Don’t try to change the subject! I think my husband’s friend harbors feelings for you. Have you any proof of this?”
“I’m sure you couldn't be more wrong. He said I was ghastly, remember?”
“Maybe he’s changed his mind?”
“I highly doubt one’s opinion could change so drastically.”
“So, he hasn’t said anything to you?” Leona asked. “He hasn’t… confessed his feelings, or anything of the sort?”
“No,” Mary shook her head. “Well… maybe… just a bit. But if he’s done any flirting, it’s only because he sees me as sport. He likes a challenge, and he needs a way to pass the time.”
Leona thoughtfully tapped her chin. “I wouldn’t be so sure…”
“I don’t want to entertain false hopes where Mr. Lamb is concerned!” Mary walked to Leona’s bed and sat on the end of it. If she was going to be forced to talk about Andrew, she wanted to express her feelings with conviction. “No… I hope for nothing with Mr. Lamb! I don’t even like him. He’s a rake and a cad, and he hasn’t a single concern for anyone but himself. I’ve never met a man so vain… it’s strange to think he’d be friends with the viscount. Lord Randall is so kind and thoughtful, and Andrew is anything but!”
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself not to like him.”
“I don’t need convincing!” Mary shouted. It was the first time she’d ever raised her voice to Leona. “I really, really don’t like him, and I wish he’d leave me alone! His actions toward me are nothing but predatory. I will not be one of his conquests!”
Leona’s eyes widened. Mary was usually so prim and soft-spoken. She had never heard her maid speak so emphatically about anything. Regardless of what Mary said, it was obvious Andrew was having some effect on her. “Well… we don’t have to discuss him any more, if you don’t want to.”
“He’s rude and uncouth, he doesn’t think about what he says, and he talks too freely about all the women who adore him,” Mary went on with a roll of her eyes. “One almost pities the London women, to think they’d fall for his sweet words. There’s no substance behind anything he says. I don’t think he’s ever said anything interesting!”
“Mm-hmm,” Leona murmured to show she was still listening.
“I can’t believe I ever thought he was handsome. I don’t think he could get any woman to fall for him if he didn’t have that face.”
“You really dislike him that much?”
Mary paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as if she really had to ponder that question.
And she would never have to answer it, because a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
“That must be him! It’s Lord Randall!” Mary exclaimed, leaping off of Leona’s bed. “Are you sure you’re alright with being…. alone with him?”
An image of herself in the same bed as Tristan flashed in her mind, and she almost shook her head. “Y…yes,” she answered tentatively.
Mary went to the door and opened it, and it was indeed Tristan on the other side. “Good evening, Mary,” he said with a smile, looking over the maid’s shoulder at Leona. “May I come in?”
Mary stepped aside. “Of course, my lord. It is your room.” She took one last look at Leona and stepped through the doorway. “Well… I guess I’ll excuse myself now.” She hurried out of the room, leaving Leona with her husband.
Tristan closed the door and approached the bed, where Leona was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. She was peeking at him over one of the pillows. “You look adorable,” he said.
“Oh, surely not!” Leona laughed, tossing the pillow over her shoulder. “Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it?”
“A surprise?”
“Sharing a room with you,” Leona said. “I… I guess I wasn’t expecting it. Although… I don’t know why I didn’t expect it. Just because we have our separate quarters at home doesn’t mean everyone should assume we do. After all, you are my husband, and it’s not out of the ordinary for husbands to share their beds with their wives, is it? Just because it’s not something we do…”
Tristan sat down on the end of the bed and chuckled. “Do I detect some nervous rambling?”
“I’m not nervous? Why should I be nervous? Just because we haven’t shared a bed before… just because I haven’t spent the night sleeping next to someone… that doesn’t mean I’m not… um… open to the possibility. I like you very much, Tristan. I suppose I would’ve been a lot more uncomfortable if this was, say… the day of our wedding. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I have no reason to feel nervous about sharing a bed with you. Do I?”
“You are rambling!” Tristan accused, and a crooked smile tilted his lips. “You know, my dear, if you’re not comfortable with this situation, I can get some spare blankets and sleep on the floor.”
“No!” Leona gasped. “You can’t do that! I could never have you sleep on the floor!” As she watched him take of his boots, shrug off his greatcoat and untie his cravat, she swore she could hear her head buzzing. She wondered if he’d be removing any more clothing after that. She didn’t know much about men. She had no idea what they slept in—or if they slept in anything at all!
Tristan pulled down the blankets on the opposite side of the bed and hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Uh…. Uh-huh,” she nodded.
He slipped into bed beside her. “You can blow out your candle whenever you’re ready.”
“You’re going to bed already?” she asked.
“Sure. I’d like to start the day early tomorrow. I want to take you to York for some sightseeing… if that’s alright with you.”
“Well, yes… of course it is. It sounds nice.” She captured her bottom lip between her teeth and murmured something inaudible.
“Is something bothering you? Something besides the fact that I’m in your bed right now?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Um… no…” She couldn’t even stand to look in his direction. She was afraid he’d be able to read her thoughts if he got a good look at her face, as he seemed to have a gift for reading her mind. In truth, she was a little disappointed he was so eager to sleep. She wasn’t surprised—but disappointed. She was hoping a thought of intimacy might have crossed his mind, but it apparently hadn’t. Leona couldn’t blame him for not wanting to touch her, though. She wondered if he ever would. “Well, actually… I was wondering if you were planning on wearing those clothes to bed.”
“I thought about removing the shirt, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable! She wanted to shout those words at him, but courage failed her.
“Not to mention, the sight of all the fur on my chest would probably give you nightmares.”
“Nightmares?” she laughed. “It would be more liable to give me dreams… of the naughty variety.”
“Oh!” With a chuckle, he sat up in bed. “Oh, really?”
Leona grabbed the candle on the nightstand, blew out the light, and sunk beneath her covers. “Goodnight, Tristan,” she said.
“Goodnight.” His smile was wasted in the darkness.
Leona spent the next twenty minutes trying to quell her thoughts. Her mind was too aware of his closeness to let her sleep. She thought she felt him move beside her, so she whispered, “…Tristan?”
“Yes?”
“Are you awake?”
“How else would be replying to you, silly girl?”
“Oh… right… well… you might talk in your sleep. How would I know?”
“If I do, I’m not aware of it.” He rolled on his side, facing her direction. What he did next surprised her, and would likely keep her awake for the next several hours. He reached out and started stroking her hair. “Is there something else bothering you?
”
“Well…” Of course, there were many things bothering her. Did he care about her? Could he ever love her? Did he have feelings for her? How did he really feel about everything she told him? Did he think she was impure? “I… was just thinking about my father.”
“What about him?”
“I know he hated me when I left, but nevertheless… I’m a little surprised he hasn’t tried contacting me at all,” she said. “It hurts. I would have never thought my father cared so little of me that he’d hold one mistake against me for the rest of my life. I guess he really has washed his hands of me.”
Tristan’s hand continued to toil in Leona’s hair. “Your father is a stupid man, and he isn’t worth your worries. You’re better off with me.”
“I know I am,” she answered resolutely. “I have no doubt of that. Still, I spent twenty two years of my life with him. You would think he’d care about me just a little.”
“At least you don’t have to waste anymore time with him.” Tristan retracted his hand from her hair and stuffed it beneath his pillow, propping up his head. It was starting to appear as though they weren’t going to do much sleeping at all. “You know, when someone tells you how little time you have left, you’d be amazed at how differently you see things. Everything feels like a waste of time.”
“Everything…?”
“No, not everything. Spending time with you certainly isn’t a waste of time. My time with you has been the best time I’ve ever spent,” he corrected himself. “But… sleeping? Have you ever thought about what a colossal waste of time it is?”
Leona could think of something she would rather do than sleep, but it made her blush to think about it. “Well, I… I suppose there are some things you could do during sleep that would make the time more worthwhile.”
“Such as?”
“You could have a nice dream,” she wistfully suggested. “Or… you could wrap your arms around me.”
“You’re right. That does sound like a nice idea.” Tristan closed the gap between them and curled an arm around her waist. “How is that?”
“Nice,” she answered, closing her eyes.
Tristan bent his head closer to hers and kissed Leona’s forehead. “I am happy to have you in my life, Leona,” he whispered.
“In spite of everything?” she whispered. “I… I would have thought… after everything… you might start wishing you’d married someone else.”
“Perish those thoughts. I’m happy to have you in my life. No one else.” He gave her a little squeeze.” Because of you, I can have nice dreams.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Leona nearly fell face-first into a puddle as she hopped down from the carriage. In fact, she most certainly would have toppled into the water if Tristan hadn’t been there to grab her around the waist. He grabbed her and swung her out of harm’s way, placing her feet on drier ground.
“Thank you, Tristan,” she said with a smile. “You saved my new boots from certain death.”
“I always knew I had a heroic streak in me.” He extended an elbow toward her and took her by the arm. “Look, you can see the church from here… beyond those buildings.” He pointed to the staggering ivory spires peeking above the foreground. “The York Minster.”
“It’s enormous!”
“I think it might be even larger than the cathedral in Canterbury.” As he spoke, he hauled her off her feet and lifted her over another puddle. “Too bad the weather’s so dreary.”
“At least it’s not raining right now. Oh…” As if summoned by her hopeful words, a large droplet of water fell on her nose. “On second thought…”
“Every time you and I are together, it seems to rain. Should we be worried about that?” he asked with a chuckle. “You don’t think it’s some sort of ominous sign, do you?”
“I think it’s just bad luck.”
They stood in front of the cathedral in York, admiring its grandeur. “I feel insignificant, standing in front of a place like this. But… I suppose I’m no more insignificant than the next man.”
“You’re very significant to me!” Leona exclaimed, giving him a playful nudge. Her eyes were wide as she stood in the shadow of the cathedral. “I think it’s as big as a mountain!”
A few more raindrops fell on his head, so he handed Leona her parasol. “Let’s move along, shall we? I think the weather is intent on ruining our sightseeing,” he said, leading her away from the cathedral.
“I could stay here all day, rain or not. I think York’s a beautiful place!” she exclaimed. “Not to mention, we don’t have Andrew buzzing around us.”
“I think you’re the first woman who’s ever preferred my company over his,” Tristan said. “You do, don’t you? Prefer my company to his?”
“Of course I do!” She brought her parasol down on him, giving him a gentle knock on the head. “Do you really have to ask such a question?”
As their exploration of the city continued, they turned onto a medieval street with cobbled roads and half-timbered buildings. She could practically smell the musk of a bygone age as they strolled through The Shambles. She could practically hear the bustle of townspeople, crowding around the narrow streets.
A slow carriage trundled toward them on the road, halting their progress. As they stepped aside to let it pass, the delay gave Tristan a moment to remember where he wanted to take her. “Ah… over there!” He directed her gaze to a shop at the other end of the road. “Do you see that sweet shop over there? I’m surprised it’s still there. I used to go there when I was a boy.” He took Leona’s hand and led her in the direction of the small shop, where they stopped to admire the arrangement of sugary confections in the display window.
When they stepped inside, Leona found herself wanting to sample a bit of everything. From the apricot creams to the iced bonbons, each sweet looked better than the next. By the time she was done demanding a taste of everything, Tristan’s pockets were noticeably lighter.
Leona rolled a hand over her stomach. Having indulged in so many sweets, she worried her stomach might be bulging more than usual. “Do you think I… overdid it?” she asked.
“No,” he answered with a chuckle. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. That is… I would assume you’re enjoying yourself.” He looked over at her, eyebrow raised. “Are you?”
“Of course I am! But I think I’d enjoy anything with you, Tristan!”
“Anything?”
She nodded.
“Dancing in the puddles?”
She nodded again.
“Rolling around in the mud?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded again.
He reached over to give her cheek a little pinch. “You’re a silly little thing, aren’t you?”
She answered his question with another nod and fell into a fit of giggles.
Tristan drew a deep breath and wrapped an arm around her back. “Quick… let’s go over here.”
Her giggles stopped almost instantly. “What? Is something wrong?”
“I’m feeling a bit winded all of a sudden,” he confessed. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about… I’m sure the weather has something to do with it. Although…”
Leona shrieked. “What?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just remember feeling a similar sensation before I fainted at a party in London. Here… let’s go sit on the bench over there.”
Leona was feeling a strange sensation herself—as though her heart was being pulled through her throat. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, terrified for his health. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so concerned with someone besides herself.
“Don’t look at me like that!” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t look so worried, Leona. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
She sat with him on the bench and took his hand. “How could I not be worried? I… I care about you.” Care about him? Love was a more accurate description of her feelings, but she didn’t know how much she was ready to co
nfess. “Are you feeling alright now?”
“I’m still a bit… short of breath,” he admitted. “But I get like this a lot.”
Her brows pinched together. “Tristan…” she whispered his name. “Do you think you’re going to… die?”
“I don’t plan on it!” he exclaimed. “Not at the moment, at least!”
“Please don’t make jokes like that!” she whimpered. “I don’t think you realize how much your condition terrifies me! I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you! I’ve come to rely on you so much in the last month or so... I don’t think I could stand it if you weren’t in my life anymore.”
Gently, Tristan brushed a finger across her cheek. “As morbid as it might sound, I… I’m glad to have someone in my life who worries about me. Even if my life ends soon, at least I’ve been able to experience that.”
“Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one concerned about you! Andrew worries about you, too! And everyone who works for you…I’m sure they’d be lost without you.” Leona sighed. She hoped it didn’t sound like she was trying to downplay how much she truly needed him. Certainly there were other people who cared about him, but she was even more certain that none of their feelings for Tristan came close to what she felt for him. He was her only source of comfort—her only happiness in a world that turned its back on her.
“Please… let’s not talk about anything depressing. I think our conversation should move to a more uplifting topic.”
“Like what?” Leona asked, popping a lemon drop into her mouth. The sudden burst of sour-sweetness made her flinch.
“I don’t think it’s too soon to discuss what name we should give to the next Viscount Randall, do you?” he asked. “I’ve always been particular to the name Philip. Or Arthur.”
Leona’s jaw dropped, and the lemon drop on her tongue nearly fell out. “Names… what?! You don’t mean…”
“Your baby, Leona.”
“That’s your uplifting topic? I… I still feel too embarrassed to even… speak of it. It’s… it’s not uplifting to me. It’s a topic that’s always caused me a great deal of distress!”
The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) Page 17