She supposed he was correct, other than the cut of clothing or richness of cloth.
“I have heard that there are a lot of British in Brussels. People of Society.”
“Which made it difficult to find an inn.”
Blythe blew out a breath. It was simply a chance that she would need to take.
“Thank you. I do not mean to sound ungrateful. I would just rather avoid as many people as possible.”
She hadn’t told Dr. Valentine or Isabella anything about herself. Would it change how he treated her if he knew who her father was?
“Shall we?” he offered his arm.
“Yes.”
They walked in silence through the camp, and those they passed watched them with expectation and wonder in their expressions. By now, everyone must know what happened and likely assumed that she was now the doctor’s lover.
Hopefully, when she was not seen again, everyone would forget about her.
“There is something I must tell you,” Dr. Valentine said once they were away from everyone.
Blythe grew fearful of what he might say, though she couldn’t imagine why there was a reason to be frightened.
“The inn that I found, the only one with a room,” he emphasized. “It has rules.”
Oh, she could follow rules.
“What are they?”
“That only married couples are allowed to be guests.”
Blythe stopped walking, alarmed again. She was married, but not to Dr. Valentine who had arranged for the room.
“What did you tell them?” she finally asked.
“That you were my wife and that you had been following the drum and that I had promised to find you a room at an inn because you were tired of tents.”
His wife.
“I registered you as Blythe Valentine and told them that I would likely only visit because I had duties.”
“Will you? Visit that is.”
“Yes. I will not simply leave you in an inn with no further thought. You became my responsibility today even though that was not something you had asked for.”
She was rather glad that this was not the last that she would see of him.
“I also hope that you do not mind going along with the story I invented.”
“While I prefer never to lie, but in this instance, I will make an exception.”
Orlando led her down a drive and up to the door. Mrs. Clay stopped and turned to him. “If you are my husband, what am I to call you?”
He supposed that if anyone overheard her calling him Dr. Valentine, they may have questions. “Orlando.”
She smiled.
“May I have permission to call you Blythe?”
