She had thought he would leave immediately and to be honest, she wanted to get lost in slumber.
“Men have a mindset.” His face began to redden. “Because we are wed and have been living in a tent in the middle of a military camp, they assumed that I would take advantage of the privacy of a room with a soft bed.”
Her face heated. “I understand.”
She certainly was not going to ask him to leave because it would only invite more questions that she had no desire to answer.
“What do you suppose we do?”
“We could come to know one another,” he suggested as the corner of his mouth quirked. “You do belong to me.”
Blythe pulled back. She had been her husband’s property, was Orlando going to claim control of her as well?
“Blythe, I am teasing.” Orlando reached out and took her hands.
The warmth spread up her arms and a soothing calmness settled over her. It was the oddest sensation.
“You turned nearly white with fear.” He chuckled. “I only meant to make light of this unusual situation.”
“I am sorry. It is just…” what did she say? She had been afraid of losing what little freedom she had gained today and feared that she had misjudged him or once again foolishly trusted the words of a man.
“It is just proof that despite our circumstances, we are still very much strangers.”
She looked into Orlando’s grey eyes and her heart calmed. “You are correct,” she finally admitted with a smile.
“Then we should change that.” He let go of her hands and Blythe immediately suffered the loss of comfort. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been touched with gentle affection in such a very long time that she hadn’t realized that it was something she craved. She had experienced the care when he treated her wrists earlier, but her hand in his was simply for comfort.
It had been a mistake to touch her. First, she was married to another man, but Orlando wanted to do more than hold her hands. He wanted to hold Blythe, pull her close. This had been such a trying day for her and his instinct was to comfort, but it was not his place to do so.
“Where do we begin, if we are to come to know one another?” she asked.
He had many questions, but he needed to ask the ones that reminded him that Blythe belonged to another, especially now that they were alone in her chamber.
He hated that she was married. Especially to such an arse that would sell her.
“How long have you been married?”
“It will be four years, next month on the twenty-eighth.”
“I will claim the same date if anyone were to ask, then you will not have to remember a separate piece of information.”
“Thank you,” she said with a grateful smile.
“What prompted him to sell you now?”
Blythe blew out a heavy sigh and settled on the side of the bed.
To keep his distance, Orlando sat in the chair beside the window.
“Because he wanted out of the military but did not want to be a sheep farmer,” she answered.
“Sheep farmer?” She was the daughter of a duke, certainly her father would not allow them to live in such reduced circumstances. Then again, her father had warned Blythe not to marry Lieutenant Clay. Would they gain no support from him when they did return? He was certainly familiar with such rejection when a daughter married against a parent’s wishes. It had happened to his own mother.
“John did not want to be in the military at all, but he is the third son of a viscount whose coffers were nearly dry and the estate crumbling. It was John’s grandfather, his mother’s father, who purchased his commission since he would no longer be receiving quarterlies because there were no funds.”
Orlando was beginning to understand, or so he thought. Marrying a duke’s daughter, who likely had a large dowry could solve some of those financial burdens.
“John had started out as a low clerk which was well and good since he did not have to fight. When he was given leave to visit his family in England, he had decided that he did not want to return to his post. That is when he met me. He had hoped that by us marrying that my father would insist that he sell his commission and remain in England and then give John a prominent and important position. My father refused to do so while England was at war and insisted that John continue his duty to the King. This angered John enough that he arranged for me to accompany him on his return to the Continent believing that my father would change his mind if his daughter was following the drum and sometimes in danger.” A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “He did not know my father well, or at all, because Father sent us along with his blessing.”
