“Thank you. I shall feel better knowing you are nearby.”
When he closed the door behind himself, she locked it.
Then Rebecca set her valise on the dressing chest, opened it, and extracted teeth-cleaning things and a hairbrush.
Someone knocked on the door.
Her nerves jangled.
Thinking Frederick may have forgotten something, she went to the door and asked softly, “Yes?”
“It’s Tommy.”
Relief. She unlocked and opened the door a crack, glad she had not yet undressed.
His eyebrows rose. “You really are in there. Had to see it for myself. Thought Freddy had a bad dream or spied a mouse in his room. Hasn’t crawled into bed with me since I was four.”
Frederick appeared behind his brother.
“Hush, man, and get back to your own room.”
“I wish it were still only my room. I won’t sleep a wink with him driving his pigs to market all night.”
Frederick grasped him by the shoulder, turning him toward the adjacent door. “That’s only when I have a cold, and I feel perfectly well.”
“Thank heaven for that.”
Rebecca closed the door with a small smile on her lips. Perhaps this was a good idea after all—assuming Lady Fitzhoward didn’t find out. And she should have thought to tell Mary where she was. It was too late now. She wasnotgoing to wander the abbey late at night trying to find her. She shivered. Either way, she would work it out in the morning, which would arrive all too soon.
Now, how to get out of her dress and stays? She wished she had worn a frock that fastened in the front that day and her more comfortable wraparound stays.
Another light tap sounded on the door. “Miss?”
Mary’s voice. At this rate, everyone in the hotel would know she had switched rooms, which to her ear sounded less shocking than saying she’d moved into Sir Frederick’s! She opened the door.
Mary said, “Sir Frederick found me knocking on your door. I’d come earlier, but you weren’t there so I came back. He said you didn’t feel safe in your room. Something about a rat?” The girl shuddered. “And here I thought those were only in the cellars.”
Instead of lying, Rebecca said, “He offered me his room for the night. He is sharing with his brother. It was kind of him to let you know where to find me. I hope you did not think the worst.”
The girl grinned. “I’ve seen stranger things here—that I can tell you.”
“Oh, like what?”
“Well, let’s just say you’re not the first lady I’ve found in the wrong room. Nor gentleman!” Mary’s gaze swept over her. “Now, let’s get you out of that frock and into your nightdress.”
After Mary left, Rebecca pulled back the counterpane and fresh sheet and climbed into the bed, which was higher and wider than hers had been. Giddy excitement tickled her stomach as she settled into Frederick Wilford’s bed—at least the one he’d slept in the last several nights. She laid her head on the one indented pillow, the same pillow he’d rested on earlier. A whiff of his spicy cologne enveloped her. Citrus and cloves. She turned her face into the pillow and breathed deeply, instantly feeling her nerves calmed and her senses ... stirred.
She remembered her younger days when she used to dream of kissing Frederick and becoming his bride. Her girlish imagination had never ventured beyond that, and certainly not as far as the bedroom. Oh, but she had longed to kiss him.
There, in the warm embrace of his bed, she admitted to herself that she still did.
———
After asking Thomas to remain alert for any sound or call from Miss Lane, Frederick went out, bent on finding Mr. George and satisfying himself that he posed no threat to Rebecca.
He found him belowstairs in the bar.
Upon his entrance, Mr. Heck said, “Sorry, sir. I’ve already taken last orders.”
