“There will be a private dining area for those who can afford to pay. We still can. It won’t be empty, but it won’t be as full as the tap-room either. Or I can have a meal sent up here.”
“Let’s go down,” she said quickly. “We’ve been cooped up like the queen’s songbirds all day. Perhaps we could take a stroll around the inn after we eat.”
“You don’t mind being seen with me?” he jested.
Miranda shrugged. “You are my pretend husband tonight, Mr. Thomas, and by this time tomorrow, my actual one. As long as you can procure a lantern.”
“Afraid of the dark?” he asked, escorting her downstairs.
“Afraid of spiders in the dark,” she said.
“Ah, yes, our downfall at Brentford.” The baron sounded irritated again with the reminder of why she’d toppled their boat. “I read the entire book last night in my room. You have quite a talent for writing both the dramatic and the sensual.”
Wincing, she vowed to try her best not to remind him of her foolishness again.
PHILIP COULDN’T SHAKE off the mantle of anger that had settled over him when first he’d learned of the book that would take everything from him — both his freedom and his attempt to regain his fortune. After reading it the previous night, he’d realized Miranda would be unable to return home if she wasn’t a wedded wife.
The protection of his name didn’t put her beyond reproach, but their marrying diffused the notion she was a loose woman, willing to allow her own ruin. Instead, it would confirm the notion she was one of theincomparables, a tamer of a notorious rake.
And with any luck, marrying her would keep her father from creating a reason to toss him into Newgate jail.
Regardless, he couldn’t help the occasional harsh remark or jab at his hapless fiancée. She had betrayed him to the core. Philip vowed to make an effort to recall how much he had enjoyed her company and how perfectly they’d pleasured one another. There was no reason to believe they wouldn’t have happiness in the bedroom, and that, he hoped, would lead to a happy home.
It simply had to!
He had waited too bloody long to take a wife only to think he might be saddled with a colossal mistake.
Anger and hope had kept him company during the journey. Those emotions were undoubtedly responsible for locking them each in their own solitude for the past many hours, with neither knowing what the other was thinking. Philip was unable to reach out and ask her what was on her mind. Not yet, not while his own thoughts and feelings were still in turmoil.
Luckily, they found seats in the small dining room set aside for quality folks and for women traveling alone.
When wine and potato stew and roast chicken were brought, Miranda perked up a bit from the deflated creature she’d become.
“I hope you enjoy it and the room,” he said. “Our trip is already costly. Even without this room and board, I believe I’m spending about three shillings per mile, when you add up all the breaks and horse changes.”
Silently, she stared with her small elation at the meal dashed, and Philip remembered his manners.
“My apologies. I should not be speaking of expenses, not when we’re on such a somber trip.” Yet she alone understood his increasingly dire financial circumstances.
“Weddings are not supposed to be somber,” she said softly.
He ignored her, not about to pretend they were gaily riding toward a marriage they’d both willingly chosen.
“We’re fortunate I came away from Town with a goodly amount of coin,” he added, since London bank notes were nearly useless outside the city. Sipping his wine, he vowed to stop obsessing over the cost of everything. It was difficult, however, knowing when he returned home, he would have to announce the sale of the Mercer country estate and then the London house shortly after.
“You may continue speaking frankly,” she offered. “I am not uninterested in the expenses, especially since I have caused this one. I believe having saved most of my modest allowance since my fourteenth year, I can pay half.”
Philip lowered his glass. He had never expected her to say anything of the sort, nor could he imagine any woman of his acquaintance offering assistance. It was as if she intended to be his true partner in life.
“The marriage price can be rather dear. These border Scots know they have us by the short-hairs.”
‘The short-hairs, my lord?” She’d paused with a forkful of chicken halfway to her lovely lips.
“Never mind. If it costs half a guinea or fifty pounds, it shall be worth it.”
“I hope it’s closer to half a guinea,” she said, “unless they provide a wedding breakfast.”
Philip realized she was making a joke.Bless her heart!If she could take this in stride, he could as well.
