And a new night rail and dressing gown.
The man had thought of everything!
She washed up quickly and donned a simply cut dress made out of yellow sprigged muslin. It wasn’t something she’d normally wear, and although not as spectacular as any of Sophia’s gowns, she found herself quite pleased with the effect it had on her hair and complexion.
She was just slipping into the new shoes when a knock sounded. “Come in!” She felt self-conscious as she rose.
A man had purchased these clothes for her.
If he weren’t about to become her husband, this fact alone could label her something of a kept woman.
Blakely crossed the threshold, glanced over at her, and then caught himself. The gleam in his eyes revealed that he seemed satisfied with his purchased. “I thought that would be a good color on you.”
Emily felt herself blushing at his casual comment.
“Much better.” He turned toward the wash basin and splashed some water on his face. “Crandall sent a valise along for me, so I’ll just wait to improve upon these good looks until we stop for the night.” His words sounded vain, but he winked at her in the mirror. “A basket of food is being sent out to the carriage. Are you ready to resume our journey, then?”
The two of them collected her packages and then he followed her out to the carriage. She felt one thousand times better walking through the tap room this time. She held her head high and even smiled at the elderly matron behind the counter.
“Ah, love.” The woman sighed. “Always happy to help out newlyweds.”
“Smile and nod, my lady,” Blakely whispered in her ear. Of course. He must have checked them in as husband and wife. Heat rushed to up her neck as Blakely guided her outside and toward the carriage.
When she caught his eyes, he shrugged. “I couldn’t very well rent a room for two single persons, could I?”
Everything was moving so fast! “I don’t suppose that would be proper.” And then she felt herself flushing even more. In but a few days, it wouldn’t be a lie. She would be his wife. Mrs. Marcus Roberts. Oh, no! Lady Blakely! The realization caused her to her stumble.
Marcus caught Emily’s elbow just as her foot tripped over some inconveniently settled clumps of dirt. “Careful, now.” He would be married in less than three days.
To this woman.
He’d dreaded this rite of passage for most of his life. Or more accurately, pretty much since he’d arrived at puberty. Since he’d discovered the nuances of his most masculine appendage and how it reacted to women. Upon swiving one, he’d see another to chase. Why would any man willingly tie himself to just one of them?
And here he was, practically whistling as he made the journey to Gretna Green.
Last night, he’d drank himself senseless, he’d had so many qualms. Today…
Marcus scratched his chin thoughtfully.
Was it possible such a drastic swing in his emotions had anything to do with the last-minute change in the identity of his prospective bride?
He’d appreciated Miss Mossant’s looks from afar but had found her brooding, difficult even. Miss Goodnight would be far easier to manage.
And helikedher.
His fingers twitched while watching his fiancée climb into the coach, her derriere wiggling temptingly as she settled her hat box on the floor. He had good reason to believe they could manage to keep their relationship light and friendly. A wife who could be a friend. Intriguing thought… In addition, Miss Goodnight’s scientific outlook on the world caused him to believe they could enjoy physical pleasures without all the complications of emotional involvement.
He anticipated expanding her education beyond the books she’d read.
Once inside the carriage, he settled himself beside her. She removed her bonnet, and he took pleasure to note that the gown he’d chosen brought out the golden highlights in her hair. She seemed less frazzled now. Although he had rather enjoyed that the material of her nightgown had been worn quite thin.
“About three days journey, isn’t it? To cover the distance?” She set her feet on the hat box and frowned. “I wish I had some of my books.”
“Why don’t you tell me about them? Tell me what you are reading right now.”
She flushed a bright red and shook her head.
“Come now, we’ve a great distance to cover. It’s not fair that you withhold such entertainment from me.” He could guess which book she’d been reading. Not some fictional romance or mystery. No, Miss Goodnight studied diagrams and charts. “Are you still reading the book about ladies’ pleasures?”
