“Yes,” she said past a thick tongue and a dry throat. “The very gentleman. He kindly slept on the floor downstairs with the others to save me trouble.”
“Hmmm,” Gertrude hummed, and Rosalinde shot her a look.
Gertrude was still sewing, but there was something about her maid’s pursed lips, her slight glances in Rosalinde’s direction. Did Gertrude not believe her?
In the end, it likely didn’t matter. Gertrude had been her maid for many years and had proven herself to be a loyal companion. She didn’t have loose lips, she never had. In fact, Rosalinde might have even confessed the truth to Gertrude, but for one fact about her passionate night.
It was hers. Hers alone. It was too precious and private to share with anyone but the man she would never see again.
She turned to the side, leaning her head against the carriage wall as she fought the tears that stung her eyes. It was foolish to let them fall for a person she didn’t know. One who’d she’d known from the start was not meant for her. She’d lostnothing.
“With all the excitement last night, I hardly slept,” she admitted. “I think I’ll close my eyes for a while.”
“You do look exhausted,” Gertrude said with a smile. “You sleep now. I’ll wake you if you’re needed.”
Rosalinde let her eyes close and the rocking carriage began to lull her to sleep. But she feared, as she drifted away, that there would be no rest to come. Just dreams of Mr. Gray. Dreams of what would never be.
“Mrs. Wilde?”
Rosalinde shifted, but did not open her eyes. She didn’t want to wake. She didn’t want Mr. Gray to leave again.
“Mrs. Wilde? We’ve arrived at Caraway Court.”
Rosalinde opened one eye and realized she was not back at the inn. She was in her carriage and it had stopped. Gertrude was already outside—Rosalinde could hear her talking to Lincoln. It was the groom, Thomas, who now stood in the carriage door, his face uncomfortable as he tried to rouse her.
“What time is it, Thomas?” she asked as she sat up slowly.
“Nearly midnight, ma’am,” he said. “A few of Lord Stenfax’s men are helping with our things, but the rest of the household is already abed. I’ve heard Miss Celia is still awake, waiting for your arrival.”
Rosalinde let out a sigh. “Well, at least I shall not have to deal with Grandfather tonight.”
Thomas said nothing, but took a step back and held out a hand to help her from the carriage. She stretched her back as she stepped down. She was achy all over, both from the long, cramped ride and from the passionate night she’d shared with Mr. Gray. She knew that stiffness, that well-used ache between her legs would fade soon, and she hated it. It would make that night nothing more than a distant memory.
“Come, Mrs. Wilde,” Gertrude said as she approached. “Lincoln and Thomas will help the others put away the carriage and horses. I’ll take you to the room you’ll share with Miss Celia.”
Those words cleared Rosalinde’s mind. This was the last time she and her sister would share a room. The last time she’d be with Celia before her sister became Countess of Stenfax.
She couldn’t let memories of one wicked night keep her from fully concentrating on matters at hand. She followed Gertrude into the house and gave over her coat and gloves to Stenfax’s butler. He gave Gertrude directions to Celia and Rosalinde’s chamber and the two women trailed up.
“We’re here so late, I’ll just help you into one of Miss Celia’s nightgowns,” Gertrude said. “And you’ll have your things tomorrow morning when you rise.”
“Good idea,” Rosalinde said. “Celia has nicer clothes than I do anyway.”
She laughed, but Gertrude didn’t. In fact, her maid pursed her lips in annoyance at the statement that was pure truth. While their grandfather punished Rosalinde for her “bad choices,” he still thought Celia had a use. Her sister received the benefit, even if she didn’t want it.
As they reached a door down the hallway, it flew open, and there stood Celia. She wore a wrap tied tight around her waist and her dark hair, so like Rosalinde’s, was braided and fell around her shoulder. Her younger sister let out a little gasp, then dragged Rosalinde into a tight hug.
“You’re here,” Celia breathed. “I’m so glad. Hello, Gertie.”
The maid smiled. “I’m just here to help Mrs. Wilde into a night rail and—”
“Oh, I’ll help her,” Celia said. “You should go to bed. You must be exhausted.”
Gertrude gave Rosalinde a questioning glance, which Rosalinde returned with a smile. “Celia can help. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Gertrude nodded. “Very well, good night to you both.”
The moment she turned to go, Celia dragged Rosalinde inside. Once she’d shut the door, Celia hugged her once more. “I was worried sick.”
