Rhys was quick to set the room right and after slapping some water on his face and dressing, he left to get breakfast. Louisa was quick to scramble off the bed and brush her hair, plait it, and pin it back up, as well as clean her face before he returned.
A humble meal of sausage and poached eggs over toast was hurriedly devoured and soon they were exiting the inn and returning to the uncomfortable carriage. To her surprise though, Rhys had brought a cat with him.
She gave him an inquisitive stare.
“What on earth are you doing with that?”
“The innkeeper said he was going to drown him because he’s missing an eye,” Rhys said, scratching the tiny creature behind his pointed, orange ears. “I thought he might like being a mouser rather than ending up as fish food.”
“Oh.”
“Besides. You like animals, don’t you?”
“I… I never really thought about it actually,” Louisa said. “Oh. Are you referring to my uncle’s dogs?” Rhys nodded. “Well, I’d hardly consider them animals.” She blinked and then shook her head. “I mean, of course they’re animals. It’s just that they’ve been around for so long, and my uncle always treated them like family members instead of pets. I never thought to treat them any differently.” Rhys watched her for a moment, before she felt her skin begin to warm. “What? Did I say something ridiculous?”
“Not at all,” he said, his tone somewhat deeper than it had been moments ago. “I find it quite charming actually.”
“What’s charming?”
“Your knack with animals.”
“Oh no. I don’t have a knack for animals. Just Castor and Pollux,” she said and as if to make her out to be a liar, Rhys’s one-eyed cat crawled out of his lap, jumped across the carriage only to turn twice, and settled into a ball next to her hip.
The carriage rode at a reasonable speed for the next hour or so, and a silence followed them well into the country. Though he hadn’t continued their conversation about animals, it was obvious that Rhys was watching Louisa, waiting for her to speak, but she wasn’t sure exactly what to say. They were still strangersto one another, and yet he was proving to be as honorable a man as a war hero might be.
Still, she was confused about last night. Although she wasn’t the worldliest woman, she wasn’t so naive as to think that falling asleep on one’s wedding night was normal. She knew something was supposed to happen, but she just wasn’t sure what.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more contrite she became. Why hadn’t anything happened between them last night? Weren’t married people supposed to, well…
Her face was burning with embarrassment.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, causing her to look at him.
“Nothing.”
He made an unbelieving face.
“Something’s the matter.” She shook her head, refusing to speak. He sighed. “Very well.” Shutting his eyes he leaned his head back. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll shut my eyes. Bit of a restless night’s sleep.”
She nodded, though he couldn’t see her.
She wanted to know why he had a sleepless night and why he hadn’t tried to, well, do what married men were expected to. Perhaps he was too tired. Or too much of a gentleman. But the more her mind wondered, the wilder her imagination became. Had he been injured during his time in battle? Was he even able to lie with her as husbands and wives were meant to do, and if he was, what had stopped him from doing so last night?
Eventually, she couldn’t help herself and, after biting her bottom lip, she spoke.
“Erm, Rhys?” she whispered.
He did not open his eyes. Then, she remembered. He couldn’t hear her.
Leaning forward, she lifted her hand and, extending her index finger, she tapped his knee. His eyes opened, fully focused on her. She gulped.
“Yes?”
She opened her mouth, but hesitated. He did not speak, nor did he appear annoyed at having been woken up. Instead, he just waited, patiently, until she gathered her nerves.
“Last night,” she started slowly. “You, well… You didn’t, um…”
A single brow lifted.
