“She had never known her mother,” he said flatly.
Ariadne sagged into the corner of the carriage, “I feel wrung out. Today has been…” her eyes flickered to him, and he knew, without a doubt, she was going to deflate. “…rough.”
“And verbally sparring with me has not helped, has it?” he added dryly.
“No, it has not,” Ariadne replied. “You’re not an easy person to understand.”
He laughed, “Of course not. That would make it too easy for others. It will be at least five hours before we arrive at the first posting inn, so you might get comfortable.”
She was in the midst of a very pleasant dream in which she was strolling down Hype Park on the arm of the man she loved the most, when she felt an incessant poking on her arm; Ariadne did not appreciate being prodded awake.
“No,” she murmured as the man gazing lovingly at her began to pull away. “Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”
“Wake up, Ariadne,” a firm voice said. “We’ve arrived at the post inn.”
Those words snuck into her consciousness and the low baritone, so familiar—so very familiar— made her eyes snap open to find Cedric’s cutting jade eyes within inches of her own.
The effect it had on her was one she would rather not consider, for fear that she would do something highly regrettable. “What?” Her voice was a squeak.
He reached for his jacket that he must have discarded while she had drifted off. “We’ve arrived at the first posting inn, and I would like to get inside, have a rest, and a bath before supper is served.”
The decisive way he spoke was sobering. It reminded Ariadne that it was best for her not to lose her head over him, no matter the sinful effect he had on her.
“Very well.”
She gave him a nod, waited for him to exit the carriage, then allowed him to help her down first. She was far too practical to care about the way in which his fingers curled around her hand or the fact that he offered her his arm once. To do so would be silly, daft, and completely senseless.
And yet a part of her – that feminine part yearning for romance – could not quite help but bask in the whole experience.
“May I ask about the sleeping arrangements?” She asked quietly.
“Leander had booked two separate rooms, but only I extended mine as I knew I’d be returning this way alone,” he shot her a look. “Leander had arranged for a honeymoon in Bath, that now that I think about it, is where I should have the authorities check.”
“We’re sharing your chambers, then,” she deduced.
“Yes,” he replied as they came to the desk. The clerk bowed, “Your Grace. I am happy to see you again. Your room is ready, but may I ask about your guest? If she needs a room, I am happy to ob?—”
“My wife is staying with me,” he said.
“Oh,” the clerk instantly bowed again. “My apologies, Your Grace, I had not recognized you.”
“We’re newly married,” she said while trying to keep her tone still. “You have nothing to apologize for, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the attendant breathed in relief. “May I show you to your rooms?”
Cedric reached up to massage the back of his neck with his free hand, “Arrange baths for us and send up supper, please.”
“Cook has prepared roasted pheasant, beef stew, and vegetable broth,” the clerk replied. “What would you like?”
“A sample of all, please.” Cedric directed.
They headed up to the level above and down a hallway that opened to a very luxurious room for a post-inn. There was a thin runner that led to a set of chairs near a fireplace. The bed was the principal object in the room with its carved headboard and matching washstand.
“I hope it's sufficient?” the clerk asked.
“It is,” Cedric nodded. “Please have the bath arranged as quickly as possible.”
“It will be done, Your Grace,” the attendant bowed before he hurried away around the corridor.
