He placed a hand over his chest, mock-affronted. “That hurts.”
She gave a quiet snort of amusement. “I meant… you don’t have to sleep on the floor.”
He raised a brow, just slightly. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not cruel,” she said with a half-smile, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “And we’re both adults. We’ve survived worse.”
His gaze softened. “You have my word, Evelyn. Whatever you want, I’ll respect it. Every moment, every requirement, every wish.”
She didn’t say anything to that. She just nodded and turned away again with her heart beating a little too fast, and not just from the cold.
Tomorrow, she would be the Duchess again. Tonight, she would simply be Evelyn, in bed with a man who, against every plan she’d made, was becoming more than just her husband in name.
They both turned around, chuckling softly to themselves as they resumed the now-familiar ritual of undressing back-to-back. Robert unfastened his shirt and stepped out of his trousers withpracticed ease, folding them over the small wooden chair near the wall. He could hear Evelyn’s huffs behind him, quiet at first then more frustrated as fabric rustled with her efforts.
He turned his head slightly. “What’s the matter?”
A growl of impatience. “It’s the blasted button,” she grumbled. “The one in the back. It’s stuck, and I can’t reach it properly.”
He allowed himself a crooked smile. “Do you need help?”
“No,” she said at once then added a mutter under her breath. “I mean, maybe.”
Another pause. A soft sigh. “Yes. I do.”
He turned around slowly, careful to keep his expression neutral despite the hammering of his heart. She stood with her back to him, her hands gripping the stubborn fabric near her shoulder blades. The fine shift she wore underneath was already visible beneath the parting gown, and as he stepped toward her, he was very aware of how close they were.
His fingers brushed the fabric first then her skin, and a jolt of heat ran through him. She was soft and warm, and the scent of her hair, still a little damp from the rain, was maddening.
Focus. Just help her.
He worked the button gently, using the pad of his thumb and a quiet curse when it snagged again. She stood very still beneath his touch, her breath almost held.
“There,” he said softly, the button finally slipping free. He stepped back, willing the tension in his body to ease. “All done.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He turned away again, carefully this time, as if any sudden move would cause something to snap between them. He heard the quiet swish of her dress falling to the floor, and when she finally spoke again, her voice was small.
“You may join me now.”
Robert turned around, and his heart clenched. She lay in bed, the blankets pulled to her chest, her long undershirt visible beneath, loose hair spread like silk across the pillow. Her eyes met his… vulnerable, trusting.
He crossed the room and slid into bed beside her slowly, the mattress dipping under his weight. They were close. Closer than they’d ever been, face to face, sharing the same air.
For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Her eyes searched his face. His hand twitched on the blanket between them.
He wanted to kiss her. More than that, he wanted to hold her, to tell her she was safe, to confess the truth about everything that had begun to grow in his chest without his permission.
But he didn’t.Not yet.
Instead, he whispered. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yes,” she nodded and whispered back.
Evelyn’s face was turned slightly toward him on the pillow. Her lashes fluttered faintly as she blinked, not quite ready to sleep. And that was when he saw them.
Freckles. Scattered lightly across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, like a constellation only visible up close. He hadn’t noticed them before, not in the candlelight of their wedding night, not under the layers of powder and paint she wore at balls and formal gatherings. But here, in this modest inn, stripped of pretense and finery, they were undeniable.
