Was it the same for him?
Still, she wanted to say something to ease him, to take away a little of his pain, but she had no words. She’d tolerated the kindness of people after her parents’ death but wanted them gone more than she’d wanted to hear their condolences. So she said nothing, an intention lasting until the carriage halted in front of the hotel.
“Will you come to my bed tonight?”
She clasped her hands together, forced herself to meet his look, refusing to glance away.
“Is it a Scots thing?” he asked. “This directness of yours?”
“I think it’s mostly a Veronica thing,” she said. “Isn’t it better to ask than to wonder? To discover, rather than to guess?”
For the longest time, he didn’t answer her, and she wondered if he was going to retreat into silence once more. If he was, she’d follow him. Perhaps, in the future, people would remark on how attuned they were, how they didn’t need to converse. They wouldn’t know she and Montgomery had simply stopped speaking to one another.
“Please do not tell me we’re strangers, Montgomery,” she said. “You’ve had your hand up my skirt and your mouth on my breasts.”
She couldnotbelieve she was saying those things. Her skin was prickling with embarrassment.
“You would have no objection to bedding a man you hardly know?”
“Not if he’s my husband.”
He nodded. “You’re very dutiful.”
“Dutiful?” She smiled. “I doubt if it’s dutiful. It must be done, and I’m all in favor of doing it. It’s what one does, after all, when one is married.”
He folded his arms and stared at her as if she were the most unusual creature he’d ever seen. She wasn’t certain it was a polite look he was giving her.
Since she’d already revealed herself, probably too much, she continued. “I am told I shall not like it one little bit. I’m supposed to close my eyes and think of the Queen.” She doubted that was entirely true, if the experience in the parlor was any measure.
“You’re a very well made man, Montgomery. I doubt I’ll dislike seeing you undressed. As for me, you’d know only too well what I look like naked. We might as well get down to the act itself.”
He still didn’t comment.
The carriage door abruptly opened, and Veronica felt as if she’d been saved from the further embarrassment of being unable to stop herself from talking.
She smiled brightly, pasting an expression of such utter bliss on her face that anyone looking at her must surely know she was terrified.
Chapter 11
Veronica had never stayed at a hotel before, but The Royal George Hotel had been visited by the Queen herself, they were told. The manager who made that announcement also escorted them into the building under a wide umbrella before ringing for a chambermaid to escort them to their room. They were given demonstrations on the various amenities, the location of the buzzer to ring for assistance, and directions to the hotel’s dining room.
When they were left alone, she was surprised at how much smaller the room suddenly felt.
The iron bed was enormous, taking up most of the space. The mattress looked as if it were double the size of her bed at her uncle’s home. A small table, two straight-backed chairs, and a washstand comprised the rest of the furniture in the room. A small fireplace was set into one wall, while two windows on the far wall boasted a view of the river through a curtain of rain. Although it was early afternoon, the day was as dark as night.
The chamber was pristine. The hotel was lovely, the staff amenable. She could find no fault with her accommodations.
The problem was her husband.
“Are you hungry?” Montgomery asked.
She shook her head. They’d eaten the contents of Mrs. Gardiner’s hamper during the first part of the trip, and taken tea when they’d arrived at the station.
“Then we’ll begin, shall we?”
She glanced at him, her eyes widening.
He walked up to her, brushed aside her hands, and began unbuttoning her bodice. She slapped his hands away, as useless as batting away the sun. He just waited until she stopped before beginning again.
