“All right then,” Lydia said, sounding thoughtful. “Unicorn.”
“Not a real animal, try again,” Matthew answered in a bored but confident voice. He closed his eyes, as though having to give no thought to their game.
“It was a real animal, great legends and stories of the past have depicted them,” Lydia argued, sitting primly and sounding somewhat smug. “And did you not know that the Good Book itself mentions unicorns? More than once, I might add.”
“Fine, have it your way,” Matthew said, his eyes still closed. “Newt.”
“Tapir.”
He opened one eye to look at her skeptically. “Rat.”
“Hmm, another T,” Lydia said, thinking. “Tiger.”
“And you give me yet another R. Roo,” Matthew offered.
Lydia shook her head. “Roo isn’t a word. It’s kangaroo, if I remember correctly.”
“The people of the Australis call it a roo, so it must stand. Far be it from me to tell an entire population of language users that they are incorrect, all because a silly girl in England thinks it so.” Matthew crossed his arms more tightly, the argument settled in his mind.
“We are not in the Australis, are we?” Lydia reminded him crossly, ignoring the insult about being a silly girl. “Therefore, we will speak the King’s English here and only use the correct term, kangaroo.”
“Fine,” Matthew answered angrily. “Rabbit.”
“Another T?” Lydia joked.
“You are not required to play the game. You can forfeit if it is proving too difficult for you,” Matthew answered. “In point of fact, I’ve grown tired of it. I shall rest now.”
He turned his face to the carriage window again and settled against the cushion. Lydia was left to wonder what she had done to anger him, and lacking any evidence, could only surmise it had to do with being shackled to her.
By the end of their first day’s journey, neither party was in much of a better mood. They arrived at a fairly well-kept inn and entered after Matthew had secured a room and sought a place to leave the horses for the night. He took the room under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth, leaving Lydia to quiver with fear in the carriage.
He has said this is to be a marriage of convenience, one in name only, she thought to herself with fright,so how are we to share the one room when we are not even given the protection of marriage?
Quietly, too unnerved to even voice her protest, Lydia followed Matthew up the stairs of the inn until they reached the room that was meant to be shared. Even so much as crossing the threshold of the sparsely furnished room with Matthew would be the end of her reputation, Lydia realized, though her name was already worthless for leaving her uncle’s house to meet a man in this way.
“You might as well come in, you cannot stand in the doorway all evening,” Matthew said bluntly, some of the first words he’d uttered all afternoon.
Lydia slipped into the room, keeping her back to the wall and her satchel clutched in front of her. She took in the room wide-eyed, as though judging where she might be safe.
“And the door? I wouldn’t leave it open through the night, if I were you,” Matthew added sarcastically.
It took all of Lydia’s composure to reach for the door and close it, effectively slamming her virtue in the sill at the same time. She was now a wanton woman, the title she was at the moment throwing away everything to avoid. She trembled, the shame of her behavior finally overwhelming her.
“What is the matter with you?” Matthew asked, though his tone was direct yet not rude.
“I… I just had not thought about how we would pass the night,” Lydia answered, her voice shaking and embarrassing her. Matthew was her oldest friend, yet she acted as though she was speaking to him for the first time in her life.
Matthew looked bemused. “Weshall not be passing the night,” he explained slowly, “only you. Never fear for your virtue, I intend to go down to the stables and sleep in the carriage.”
Visibly relieved, Lydia sighed gratefully only to become put out once more. “But people will think that we have shared this room. Is that not as bad as actually doing so?”
“I cannot help what people may think, My Lady,” Matthew said, and Lydia could hear the irritation in his voice. “Besides, for all that they know, we are Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth, happily and legally wed.”
“True, but I’m referring to once we return home. Those in the ton will know that we went to Gretna Green to be married, and they will surely be capable of calculating the distance. They will know that we had to have shared a room before we were wed… three times or better, no less. How will we live down that humiliation?” Lydia pressed.
“The time to consider that was before agreeing to go to Scotland,” Matthew answered sharply. “I cannot control what it is others may think of me, only what I think of myself. And I know that nothing unseemly occurred, not now nor will it ever.”
“If only others weren’t so quick to judge and were far more accepting of our truthful explanations—” Lydia began.
