“We’re not all that different. You and I,” he said. “At school, I was one of those lads who made perfect marks. For that reason, and also thanks to my father’s scandals, I endured my fair share of bullying. At the time, fear dictated my decisions. Until I made a single friend, your new brother-in-law as luck would have it. You followed your father’s orders out of loyalty, but also fear. Am I wrong?”
He recited his story with a calm matter-of-fact tone, and Nia shook her head in answer as he tugged on one of the full sleeves, freeing one of her arms.
“I met Lord Standish once,“ Nia admitted. “At the betrothal house party my mother hosted last summer. My parents resented that he, a lesser member of the earl’s family, a mere estate manager, had been invited. But he is your friend?” She’d avoided Mr. Rutherford. She’d learned very early on that life was easier when she minded her father’s edicts.
“One of my closest.”
Jasper slid the other sleeve off, leaving her in nothing but short stays and her white chemise, both of which had been mostly protected by her gown, and Nia crossed her hands over her chest.
Jasper then tossed her dress on the opposite bench beside his shirt and sighed. It was doubtful the garments would dry before they arrived at an inn, but already she felt better.
She’d removed the blanket so that he could warm up, but rather than cover himself, he dropped it around her shoulders.
“You take it,” she insisted.
“Absolutely not,” he answered, two of her father’s favorite words. Just hearing them made her twitchy.
“You were out there longer than me,” she argued.
“Keep the blanket.”
“If you catch your death, there will be no one to boss me around.” She sighed. “The blanket is large enough to share.”
They were going to be married anyway. And under the present circumstances, this was no time for one of them to fall ill.
He hesitated but then bent over and began tugging on his boots. When he cursed a few times, she smiled. “Not used to doing without your valet?”
His response was to grunt, “Not used to doing this in a six-by-six space, soaking wet.”
“Do you need help?” The question escaped before she could stop it.
He freed one of his feet and then began working on the other. “I cannot think of a single person more contrary than you.”
The second boot gave way with a sucking and squishing sound, and Jasper finally turned and resumed his sideways position on the bench, gesturing for her to join him. “I’m going to hell for this…” he muttered.
“Your breeches are damp,” she frowned.
“Are you suggesting I remove them as well?”
“Gentlemen do wear something underneath, don’t they?” How had she not considered such an important detail in the entirety of her life?
“I’ve never taken to wearing drawers.” He shifted, tucking the blanket partly beneath him, and then glanced up and winked. “Have you?”
Her flush was so hot that her eyes nearly watered. “I cannot believe you would ask me that!” It was hypocritical, she knew, but she wasn’t the one who’d completely disrobed. “You must have something else—”
“In the trunk, strapped onto the back of the coach.” Reclining, he closed his eyes for the moment, looking tired. “Now, come here.”
She shook her head and pulled her feet onto the bench, hugging her knees and doing her best to use only half the blanket. She could not, of course, settle between his legs and use him as a mattress as she had before. Because he was naked from the waist up, and all she wore was her chemise, which was thin and also damp, and she did not, in fact, wear undergarments beneath it.
So, she could not relax against the warmth of his chest as she’d done while fully clothed.
Even if her foot slipped off the bench each time they hit a rut.
And even if, in those harrowing moments when the carriage slid in one direction or the other, she was forced to grasp the leather strap to keep from slamming into either the wall or him…
Jasper stared at her, and she wished she could read his mind.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked.
