“You’re a queen, Ester, but not an untrustworthy Cleopatra, not the way you keep trying to shelter me.”
Still hovering above, he touched her cheek again. “Warm again. A blushing bride. Well, I believe someone thinks I should be well rested before we start back to London. I’m surprised you hadn’t already insisted.”
“It’s good to see that you learn quickly.”
Chuckling, he punched the pillow then reclined, reciting lines the whole way down. Then his voice grew louder. “Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch of the ranged empire fall: here is my space…next to you.”
The resonance in his voice, the clarion call of Bex claiming his spot, the space next to her, made her toes wriggle. “You sleep, Ester. We’ve a long way to go.”
He started practicing Shakespeare again.
Ester loved it. It was a performance just for her. Right now, Bex was just hers, not shared with the world on stage.
When his voice grew lower and slowed, she couldn’t help herself, moving a little closer to hear each word.
His fingers clasped hers. “Ester, if reciting Shakespeare is what it takes for you to be at ease, I’ll willingly become hoarse.”
“Then I’ll make you more chamomile. Good thing you’re not that manipulative, Bex.”
“Good thing your toes are warm. They are touching my shin.”
“Oh, I …”
“Don’t move a muscle. That’s your place now, at my side. I’ll have to get you to say Arthur and learn how to make you love saying it.”
That sounded like a challenge, and that should bring her some concern, but she was too comfortable sharing Bex’s pillow to look for trouble. It would find her soon enough. It always did.
Chapter Sixteen
A Simple Life
The final leg of the trip to London was slower than Ester wanted, for the familiar buildings of the city made her anxious. When the scent of the Thames, the tart fog with the hint of horses’ leavings greeted her, she relaxed on the seat. The city was safer for Blackamoors, so it had to be better for her and Bex.
Yet, her husband didn’t look relieved. He seemed cross, with a deep frown on his face.
She put her sketch pad onto her knee, her charcoal into her bag, then linked her arm about his. “Bex, we are back in London. Is it much farther to your home?”
“Not much farther.” He patted her hand but pulled out his pocket watch. This was the second time.
“Well, I’ve missed rehearsal again. That four-hour wait to change horses at the last coaching inn has done me in.” His smile was thin but there for her. “I hate missing appointments. I gave them my word. I sent a messenger from our stay in Newcastle, saying I’d return today. I don’t break promises easily.”
Their marriage had already started to cost him. She fretted for him but tried to encourage him with another squeeze to his forearm. “They’ll understand. You’ve just come back from a wedding trip. Funny, I always pictured sailing away on a boat.”
“No. No boat for you…or me.”
His tone had sharpened, but he kissed her hand before she could pull away. “I don’t like missing appointments. My word is all that I have. I committed to being there.”
“They’ll understand. It’s not as though they’ll give your role away to someone else.”
He tugged on the reins, and the lead horse pranced a little faster, but there was no room to move with the other carriages. “You don’t know how fast someone can turn on you.” He rubbed his neck and glanced again toward the road. “There is always a new bright light, some new actor waiting for a chance.”
“No one can replace you.”
“Let’s hope that’s always your take on things. I seem to be replacing your pillow at night. Maybe I could compete with a blanket to keep you warm. London nights can be cold ones.”
Heat flushed her cheeks.
The need to box his ears didn’t leave her when he chuckled, but it was good to know that he desired her as his wife.
