They reached the end of the corridor, and Mrs. Marlowe opened the door, ushering them into a cozy room with a huge leaded window. The furniture was simple, but solid. A big, canopied bed, two armchairs by the fireplace, and a small iron table with two chairs by the window. Presumably to take afternoon tea or breakfast. On the wall by the door, there was a huge wood armoire and a trunk with a padded top at the foot of the bed. The room was not luxurious by any standard, butit looked clean and cozy. He wondered what Hannah thought about it. She must be used to more opulent accommodations.
While they admired the room, Mrs. Marlowe opened another door.
“This is a bathing chamber,” she proudly announced. “We had it installed last year. It’s the only room in the inn that has a built-in bath. In truth, the only one in the whole town. Mr. Marlowe didn’t want to spend the money, but I insisted. Not only would it save us a ton of work lugging buckets of water upstairs, but it would be a nice convenience for our guests. It has been such a great success that we are planning to install another one next year.”
“This is excellent, Mrs. Marlowe.”
Two young men arrived with their luggage, and he instructed them to put it down by the wardrobe.
“Well, it’s time we leave you two lovebirds alone. I’ll send a tea service to tide you over until dinnertime. We serve dinner at eight. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring.”
With that, she turned and breezed out of the room. Gabriel locked the door behind her. Then turned to face Hannah.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“What would you rather I tell them?” he said, advancing on her. “That I’m your lover? That I’m trying to get you pregnant at the request of your dying husband, who also happens to be my natural father?”
Her eyes grew wide, and her chin trembled a little. He instantly regretted his blunt words. The hurt he saw in her eyes. Hell and damnation, but his heart was hurting too. Hurt by the need for pretense. Hurt that the story he had told the Marlowes was not the truth. It was the lie he wished was true more than anything in his life. Because from the moment he had introduced Hannah as his wife, a yearning had overwhelmed him. It overshadowed his mood. His every word. That was a hardrealization, because for that to be possible... no. He would not think about that right now.
He went to her, enfolding her in his embrace. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But it’s the truth. Even if it sounds ugly. Oh, Gabriel. Are we doing the right thing? If I feel uncomfortable lying to our gracious hosts for a few days, how will I be able to live a lifelong lie? Maybe we shouldn’t...”
Panic seized him. No. She couldn’t back down now. He could not let her go. Not yet. Not ever. His arms tightened around her.
“It will be fine. It’s too late to turn back, anyway. You could be carrying my baby already.” As he said the words, emotion swelled in him. It looked a lot like possessive pride, but gentler, more tender. Tempered with caring and an overwhelming sense of belonging.
“We will figure it out together,” he rasped at last.
She lifted her face to him within the confines of his embrace. “But that is the thing. We can’t let anyone know about our liaison, so we won’t be together—”
“The hell we won’t,” he snarled. And then, hearing his tone, tried to soften his words. “Hannah, I know we can’t let the world know the real parentage of the child we may have. But you and I will know. And I will never abandon my child, or you. I will always be nearby. Protecting. Caring.”
Too many emotions flashed through her eyes. Fear. Longing. Doubt. Love? No, he surely was deluding himself. Their coming together was a means to an end. Just because he had developed feelings didn’t mean she had. He would do well to remember that. Before he lost his heart forever.
A knock sounded at the door, and they jerked apart before remembering that, here, it was perfectly fine to be caught embracing. Their hosts would even expect it, since they were supposed to be newlyweds.
He opened the door and allowed a maid to come in with a tea tray. The girl arranged everything on the small table by the window and left quietly. Hannah walked to the table and sat. As regal as if she were in a drawing room, she measured the tea and poured the water into the teapot.
“I just realized I don’t know how you take your tea.” She frowned, as if that minor detail bothered her.
Ah, but there were so many things she didn’t know about him. Would he share with her everything about his life? Probably, if she asked. He didn’t seem capable of denying her anything.
“Strong. Two spoonfuls of sugar, a splash of milk.” In truth, he didn’t favor tea, but he would drink it because she had prepared it for him.
Discarding his coat and unbuttoning his waistcoat, he took a seat at the table. She cut a quick glance at him but didn’t comment on his state of dishabille. Her delicate hands moved with practiced efficiency, preparing his cup of tea.
Heaving a sigh, he took a sweet mini tartlet from the top tier of the tray and presented it to her.
She shook her head. “You must start from the bottom. With the sandwiches.”
“Ah, but what fun is it to follow someone else’s arbitrary rules?”
“It’s the proper order of flavors.”
“According to whom?” he replied, popping the mini tartlet in his mouth only to irritate her.
She frowned in mock outrage. “You, sir, delight in breaking the rules.”
