Page 41 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“In your wonderfully strong arms.”

He groaned.

“You must not concern yourself with me. I shall recover.” She hiccupped again. “What is most important is that you give those ladies a chance to shine.”

“If you insist.”

“I do. I emphatically insist,” she said, and continued to chatter away as he strode down an interminably long hallway. She kept her arms wrapped around his neck and continued to breathe him in.

“What are you doing?”

“You smell awfully nice. Like sea breezes and spices. Have I told you that you are wonderful and have the nicest arms?”

“Repeatedly,” he said, his voice laced with mirth.

But Gwendolyn was not feeling mirthful because Andrew Clement should have been the one caring for her like this.

And yet she did not mind at all that it was Milbury holding her in his arms. In truth, she was almost glad of it.

“James…”

“Yes, Gwen?”

“I do not regret that we kissed.”

“Nor do I.”

“I wanted to kiss you ever so much but did not know how to ask you. And then you told me about Miss Pointy Nose and your lips were suddenly on mine. Or perhaps it was my lips that were suddenly on yours. I’m not sure how it happened, but I am glad it happened. Was this too brazen of me? I think it was.”

“If you say so.”

Her head bumped his chin as she raised it. “I do say so. But I hope you kiss me again. Will you kiss me again?”

“Yes, once you sober up.”

“I knew you were wonderful. Simply wonderful.”

Gwendolyn did not remember arriving at her room or what happened afterward, only that she woke up in her bed the following morning with the sun glaring in her face and a hammer pounding between her ears. “Oh, heavens.”

Agatha scurried to her side, annoyingly bright and cheerful. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day for travel?”

“I thought we would have rain today,” Gwendolyn muttered, ignoring the pounding hammer as she stirred awake.

“We had quite the downpour last night. Did you not hear it, m’lady?”

“No, I slept soundly.” She also must have been snoring, for her mouth was horribly dry and her breath smelled like rotten cabbage.

“The roads might be muddy,” Agatha went on while fussing about the room. “But they’ll soon dry off under the heat of the sun.”

“What time is it?”

“Just past seven, m’lady.”

Gwendolyn glanced down at herself and saw she had on her nightgown. “Who got me out of my clothes?”

Agatha stared at her as though not comprehending. “Why, you did, m’lady. I was in the kitchen giving my gown and the one you are to wear today a quick freshening when you must have returned to our chamber. You were already in your nightgown and fast asleep when I came back in, so I took yesterday’s gown and shoes to the kitchen for a quick freshen and polish.”

“Oh, yes. I remember now.” But she really did not, and the most awful realization crept into her head.