Wynbrook put his hand on the latch and paused. “Damn thing doesn’t even have a lock.” He turned once more and looked around the room as if he could magically find a separate bedchamber by the power of his sheer will. There was no hope for it and the room remained as small as ever.
“There’s only one bed,” said Kate, feeling the ridiculous need to point out the obvious.
“Yes, indeed,” snapped Wynbrook, still looking about for that magical separate bedchamber to appear. “I have no issue in going out to sleep in whatever stable accommodations they might have. Whatever the hosts may think, they will keep their mouths shut for the right amount of blunt, but I do not wish to leave you alone and unprotected in such an establishment. The door has no lock, and it seems not quite the gentlemanly thing to do to leave you.”
It was also not quite a gentlemanly thing to do to sleep together in the same room, but Kate did not say it out loud. “I am certain I will be fine. Do not trouble yourself on my account.” Too late on that score. She was fair enough to admit that Wynbrook had done nothing all day but trouble himself on her account. The only reason he was in this fix was because of her.
Why had she turned to him for help in the first place? She could have looked for a magistrate or applied for assistance elsewhere. Of course there was none as close at hand as Wynbrook, but she had not even considered anyone else. Despite his polished airs, she knew she could rely on him to provide instant assistance, which he had. But now…now they were in a bit of a jam.
Wynbrook shook his head. “I cannot leave you here by yourself. Particularly not after your drunk admirer made such advances. I would not be able to sleep for worry.”
“You should get some rest. I shall stay up and watch the door.”
“You must have a very low opinion of me if you think that I would agree to that suggestion. You are the one who holds a greater need for sleep. You rest, and I will watch the door.” Wynbrook opened his portmanteau and took out the coach guns.
“You packed them?”
“But of course.”
Her admiration for him rose higher. “The plain truth is, we both need sleep if we are going to be able to have the fortitude to continue the search for my brother tomorrow.” She took a wooden chair and wedged the back of it under the latch, preventing anyone from opening the door. “Let us both get sleep.”
Though she spoke in a calm and rational manner, or at least that was her intent, her heart skipped along at a rapid pace. Had she just suggested that she sleep in the same bed as the Earl of Wynbrook? She must be mad.
Wynbrook gazed at her for a moment, saying nothing, though his eyes were smoldering. Of course, Kate had just showed him how to secure the door without a lock. If he was serious about bedding down in some cold, wet stable, he could certainly take the opportunity to do so. Would he leave her now? Wynbrook seemed to be considering the matter. He turned his attention to the door, then the narrow bed, and back to her.
“As always, you have made a logical and sensible suggestion.” Though his words were distant, his tone was warm and inviting. She had never before been called logical and sensible in such an alluring manner.
“We should remain dressed, to maintain propriety.” Somehow she managed to say the words without laughing outright. It did not matter if she wore ten gowns; propriety had been lost a long time ago. Besides, any number of skirts could be lifted. Her cheeks warmed at the traitorous thought. What was wrong with her?
It was all due to the night before. The night of their proper kiss. Had it only been a day ago? She had intended—they both had intended—it to be a farewell between two people who were supposed never to see each other again. Now here she was, not twenty-four hours later, shut up with him in a tiny bedroom.
“We should, though, remove our damp clothing. To avoid illness.” Again it was not the words he spoke but how he said them, his smoky green eyes warm and inviting. She did not need to change her clothes to get warm; she was hot already.
“Yes, that would be sensible.” She removed her wet wool coat and hung it on a peg. He did the same with his greatcoat and hung it next to hers. Something about their coats hanging next to each other seemed so domestic, so right.
“Please do change your clothing and I shall avert my eyes,” she said briskly, determined to focus on the business at hand. She sat on the bed and covered her face with her hands.
“As you wish.”
Kate’s heart rate sped to an alarming rate as she listened to his movements. She strained to hear every little sound. Two thuds on the floor must have been his Hessian boots. Some rustling must have been his double-breasted riding coat followed by his waistcoat. A long slick sound must have been him removing his cravat. She recalled the sound from the night before.
She was glad her face was covered by her hands for she feared the heat in her cheeks would be noticeable. She was surprised at her own reaction. When did she become such a wanton? Was that rustling his shirt or his buckskin breeches? Those buckskins he wore were practically painted on. It was positively, deliciously indecent. What was he doing now?
She didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened that she accidently, ever so slightly, opened her eyes just a smidge and—oh my! The glorious form of his naked backside filled her view. She was not entirely unfamiliar with the male form. She had sailed the seas with her brother from time to time and thought she had seen just about everything on the male specimen there was to see. She was wrong.
Wynbrook was, quite frankly, the most perfect, most handsome man who had ever lived. And he looked even better from the back.
“No peeking,” he said playfully.
She squeezed her eyes tight. Did he know? How could he know? There was no way he could know. Could he?
“As if I would wish to see your bare arse,” she retorted.
“How did you know I was bare arsed?” he asked with a slow drawl.
“Hurry up and clothe yourself,” said Kate, much flustered. “I am cold and damp, waiting for you.” She was burning so hot she was surprised there wasn’t steam rising from her wool traveling gown.
“How much clothing is required to meet your approval?” asked John.
She opened her eyes. He stood before her in nothing but a pair of fresh buckskins so skintight they left very little to the imagination. He was utterly, completely, ravishingly naked from the waist up, revealing a perfectly chiseled muscular chest.
She sucked in air, trying to breathe before the image of the perfect man.
“Hullo, I do believe you’re peeking.”
“It is your fault if I am!” she cried, standing up to defend herself.
“If?” He grinned at her.
“Entirely your fault!”
“Really? Enlighten me as to my crimes.”
“You entrapped me to come into the study, luring me with the prospect of correcting math errors.”
“Guilty as charged, I fear.” He appeared smug, not contrite.
“Then you…you…kissed me! Properly!”
“Inexcusable.” The smug, overconfident grin faded a bit, and he added with a touch of anxiety, “You did not give an opinion of which kiss was the better. Was last night much improved?”
“Would I be peeking at your bare arse if it wasn’t?”
John burst out laughing. Kate stared at him, too shocked by what she had just said to make further comment.
“Oh, Kate,” he finally said when he could speak. “I do adore you.”
“Would you adore me enough to put on a shirt?” she grumbled. There was only so much of the perfect male form she could take, even if he was laughing at her.
He grabbed a nightshirt and pulled it over his head. “Acceptable?”
“Barely,” she grumbled. “Now close your eyes so I might divest myself of this wet gown.”
“I shall do you one better and turn around
so that even if my eyes accidently open, I shall not violate your person, like other people I shall have charity not to mention have done.” He gave her a smirk and turned toward the corner of the wall.
She sat back down on the edge of the bed and fumbled with the laces of her boots. Curious, she had never noticed an ineptitude in the ability to remove her own shoes before that moment. Finally able to remove her recalcitrant footwear, she unstrapped the sheath for her knife. Not much good it had done her. She tossed it on the bed.
She paused at her stockings but decided to remove them. They were wet and she would do better tomorrow without sleeping with wet feet. She hung the wet stockings over the angled seat, so that they could dry by morning. She turned back toward the bed and found that Wynbrook was still standing obediently in the corner.
“I feel like I am being punished for being a naughty boy,” he said.
“You have been a naughty boy.”
“I know.”
It was time to remove her gown. Unfortunately, with her new formfitting gowns, she needed help to get in or out of them. She tried to maneuver her arms behind her back in order to undo the buttons. She managed to undo a few at the top of the gown, but beyond that it was impossible. She tried to remove it without unbuttoning, and that too was impossible. She either had to cut herself free, as she had with the pink monstrosity, or she was trapped in the gown.
“Wynbrook?”
“Yes?” He turned around quickly, an expectant look falling a little to see she had only removed her footwear.
He appeared so eager she changed tack. “Where is my dagger? I need to put it back where it belongs.” She pointed to the leather sheath on the bed.
He paused a moment before answering. “It’s in my coat pocket.”
She fished out the long blade and shoved it back in the sheath. He watched intently.
“Do you always carry the knife?”
“Yes.”
“Why? If you do not mind my asking.”
“To keep me safe from things like this happening. You see how well it worked.” She sighed, the memories of her abduction flooding back. “This was all my fault. I should have been more careful.”
“Nonsense! Had you any idea anyone would try to attack you?”
“No. Not here. But I should not have wandered off into the woods. I simply wished for a little quiet and to avoid you.” She gave a humorless laugh. “That plan didn’t work so well either.”
“Do not blame yourself.”
“But I do. If I had better defended myself I would not have been dragged to the carriage and Robert would not be in danger.”
“No one could have predicted that four armed men would have abducted you. Come now, you are human, not a soothsayer.”
He sounded the voice of reason and it was a relief to hear someone speak against the self-recrimination she felt. “I suppose you are right.”
“Of course I am right. I am glad to hear you finally admit it! Now get out of your damp things and let’s get some sleep.”
“I’m stuck.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m stuck in the gown.”
He gave her a wide smile. “You need assistance? I am happy to oblige.” He walked toward her, and she turned so he could give his attention to her back.
“But first I need to request something from you,” he murmured seductively.
Wretched man. “Name your price.” She should be angry—she certainly sounded angry—but her body hummed with intensity from his standing so close.
“Call me John.”
“What?”
“If I am to undress you, call me John.”
“John,” she growled.
“We’ll work on your tone at a later point.”
“Just get me out of this dress before I catch my death of cold.”
He worked quickly, and it was clear her gown was not the first lady’s garment he had removed. The thought of him with another woman made her ill. She sighed. It had been a long day and she needed sleep.
Finally the buttons and ties had been undone enough for her to remove the damp gown and petticoats. John obligingly returned to the corner and Kate opened her trunk to grab a nightgown. She slipped on a nightgown, slippers, and a wrap. She crammed a wool cap on her head for good measure against the cold, though she doubted she could be anything but unbearably hot with Wynbrook in the room.
When she gave the word, he turned and gave her a smile. “I see we have chosen comfort over fashion. Very good.”
“You are always quick with your little insults,” she said, even though she had chosen the stocking cap with the idea of making herself look as unappealing as possible.
“No, no, I do apologize.” He was immediately contrite. “I did not mean to insult. I am only slightly nervous and it may appear as disregard.”
“You, nervous?” The thought was impossible.
“Yes, of course. I thought last night was the last time I would ever see you, so I indulged myself and allowed things to get a bit out of hand. Now that we are again together, I am not sure how to proceed.”
Kate stared at him. He had quickly and honestly spoken of the things she was trying to ignore, even in her own mind. “I’m sure we both let things get out of hand last night.”
“I do not regret it.” He stepped closer to her. There was not much distance between them in the first place.
“Nor do I,” said Kate in a voice even she could barely hear.
They stood there in their nightclothes, unsure of how to proceed.
“May I kiss you good night?” he asked.
“Properly?” she could not help but ask.
“If you like.”
She did like. More than she should. One tiny step forward was all that was needed and she was warm and safe in his arms. She relaxed into the embrace and he kissed the top of her head. She soaked up his warmth, his strength, his assurance her brother would be all right. She needed this confidence to go on and not collapse from worry.
“He will be fine,” said John, giving her a small squeeze. She wished she shared his confidence.
“What if he—”
He kissed her, soft and gentle, comforting and warm. She relaxed into him, the tension floating away.
“He’ll be fine,” he said when their lips finally parted. He drew her closer into his embrace, and for one glorious minute, she believed.
But minutes, even glorious ones, do come to an end, and she pulled away, realizing she should not indulge in temptation. “We should sleep. I want to be on the road before sunrise.”
“Yes, we should catch a few hours of rest.”
“I suggest that one of us sleeps under the bed linens and the other on top. That way there could be no…” She stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to commit to words where her mind had just gone.
“Yes, we would not want there to be any…” His voice was low and trailed off, which only increased her thoughts on the forbidden subject.
He was raising her temperature again. After a few awkward moments, she climbed into bed under the top sheet, while he lay on top of the sheet, and the blanket covered them both. The bed was an old one and had a decided dip in the center. No matter how much she tried to pull herself away, she slid back to the hole in the middle, as did he.
“I cannot keep myself away from you,” he chuckled.
“I seem to be suffering the same malady. The universe is against me.”
“Hmm, I was thinking just the opposite.”
She turned so her back was to him and he did the same, their backs touching, separated only by a thin linen sheet. Not much to keep them apart.
“John?” she asked.
He turned and put an arm around her, cuddling around her and making her feel warm and protected. She had never slept this close to another human
being. It was utterly foreign to her, and she liked it. She closed her eyes and breathed deep.
“Thank you.”
Twenty-four
Kate woke early, arms and legs entangled with the Earl of Wynbrook. She had apparently rolled over in the night and was now sprawled over him like a harlot. He breathed peacefully, still asleep. She needed to disentangle herself without him waking to find her all over him.
She tried to move slowly, lifting her head from his chest and her thigh from his—oh my goodness! She tried to ease away gently, but he moved slightly and brought his arm down over her, holding her fast.
“You are awake, aren’t you?” she accused.
“Very, very much so.” He opened one eye and grinned at her.
“You are incorrigible.”
“I am not the one sprawled over you like—”
“Yes! Thank you. Enough of this nonsense. We need to be on the road.” Kate flew from the bed, pushed the chair out of the way, and opened the door. “You there!” she addressed a scullery maid, who jumped at being so accosted. “We need another room where my husband can dress, a maid sent to my room to assist me, and a meal packed in a bucket for our trip. Have the stable master hitch up our coach and four. There’s a half crown in it for you if all this can be accomplished in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am! Yer husband can use this room here, just finished cleaning it. I’ll run to tell cook and the stable master and come back to be yer abigail!” The girl dropped her bucket and flew down the hall.
“You certainly found a way to motivate the staff,” said Wynbrook.
“We leave in fifteen minutes!” demanded Kate.
“Yes, ma’am!”
They rolled out of the stable yard of the Prancing Cow in fourteen minutes flat. The sun was shining brightly over a pristine white blanket of snow, the glare bright in her eyes, but after the storm of the night before, she welcomed it. It was impossible to feel discouraged on such a crisp, glorious day. They were close to Robert. She could feel it.
They asked at every turnpike, posting house, and roadside inn they came to for signs of the coach with the broken window. Finally, they came across a matron and proprietor of a posting house who had seen the broken carriage.
If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 19