“Couldn’t you try to be a little… less good at it?” she burst out.
After all that she’d gone through—jilting her betrothed at the altar, escaping in her maid’s clothes through a retiring room window—Tabitha hadn’t come this far to have all hope snatched away now.
Mr. Frampton regarded her gravely, his brown eyes searching hers. “What is it that you want?”
“I want…” The backs of her eyes stung, and she had to blink rapidly to keep the emotion at bay.
She wanted her father to love her. To care about her happiness.
She wanted a husband who saw her as a person deserving of respect, with thoughts and dreams and needs of her own.
She wanted a love match.
And failing that… She wanted at least one night of love.
Maybe this was her chance.
“If you give me this week,” she said quietly, “I will go back willingly.”
He looked understandably wary. “A week to do what?”
“To be alone with my thoughts.”
“I won’t leave you alone,” he said firmly.
Of course not. He had no reason to trust her to stay where he could find her, for one. And he was under strict orders.
“Mostly alone, then.” As she gazed at him, inspiration struck. “You can be my husband.”
He reared back, his face a comical mix of shock and confusion. “I can be your what?”
“Not my real husband,” she said quickly. “My fake husband. For the week. As you pointed out, I don’t look like Lady Tabitha. The crowds are gone. We’re here anonymously. In fact, I registered at my inn as Mrs. Snowfeather. You can be Mr. Snowfeather.”
“What the devil is a snowfeather?”
“Please consider it. You can’t tell me you haven’t dreamed of enjoying a moment to yourself away from your employer. Why not take that time here and now?” She gave him her most winning smile. “With me!”
Chapter 12
Hudson stared at Lady Tabitha, his insides a mixture of horror and longing.
Agreeing to be Mr. Snowfeather for even a second was a ridiculous, ill-advised idea that he certainly would not be acting on. Hudson would be dismissed from his post, for one. And this was his employer’s bride, for two.
Then again…
Lady Tabitha had made several sound points. Hudson was preternaturally good at his job, but no one knew he’d already found the runaway bride. By his own admission, her presence wasn’t strictly necessary in London until the rescheduled wedding one week from today. She didn’t want to go back until then. Her groom likewise held no intention of seeking her out until the ceremony—and possibly would arrive late for that as well, as he’d done this morning.
Though Lady Tabitha might find it difficult to imagine, Hudson empathized viscerally with the desire to get away, to start over, to have a different life, if only for a moment.
He had the luxury of determining his own future. Lady Tabitha did not. If she failed to make the most of the scant week that remained before her nuptials…
She would never have a second chance.
And neither would Hudson. He had dreamed of spending more time with her. As much as possible. More than was even allowed. Could he really bring himself to curtail their time together a minute sooner than absolutely necessary?
“Please?” she added sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him shamelessly.
Such transparent manipulation techniques would not work on Hudson. More importantly, Lady Tabitha didn’t need them. His heart had softened for her years ago.
