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She frowned. How had he been relaxed enough to sleep so soundly? Was sleeping next to a woman—a wife—so comfortable for him? Did he not feel any unease?

She wished she felt such ease.

He settled onto the bench next to her, his thigh and arm close to hers. Even through her gown and pelisse, she could feel his warmth.

Pippy looked down the pew. Their party did not even fill the bench they were on, as most of the house party guests had not yet arrived. Why must he sit so close to her? And yet, a part of her didn’t want him to move.

The vicar stood and began his sermon. His voice was far more melodic than the vicar at her parish near Allonby. This Mr. Tomlinson was pleasant to listen to. His voice went up and down and then up again.

Pippy’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. How could the nave be so warm, when it was so cold outside?

Her head tipped and her eyes closed. She was so tired, she would only close them for a moment—just long enough to take the sting away…

Pippy lifted her head, the crick in her neck causing discomfort. With her eyes still closed, she twisted her head slowly side to side, a little moan escaping her lips. It was quiet, and there was a coolness in the air. She didn’t remember leaving a window open. She dropped her head onto the soft fabric of the couch arm.

She stilled.

She didn’t remember the couch having such a covering—any of the couches in her father’s townhouse.

Then something hovered on the edge of her memory. She had left London…

With mortifying clarity, the events of the last fortnight came back to her. She was in Yorkshire, with Lord—both eyelids flew open to see a nearly empty nave.

Jumping to her feet, she looked around. “Where is everyone?” She looked at Freddie. He sat on the bench with his hands clasped and hanging between his knees, a soft smile on his lips.

He looked around them. “I expect they are nearly back to Bellthorne.”

Her mouth parted. “Bellthorne? Just how long was I asleep?”

His smile widened. “For nearly an hour and a half. The vicar was particularly verbose today.”

An hour and a half? How had she stayed upright that long? And then her gaze fell to his shoulder. Oh, gracious. Had she slept on his shoulder? In church?

Freddie shifted to stand, and the light hit his coat just so. No…no…no! Was that a wet spot on his sleeve? She closed her eyes. Oh, please don’t let that be from me. It was embarrassing enough that she’d used him as a cushion. But if she’d also slobbered on him, that would be—she could not even think on it.

He followed her gaze to the spot in question. His lips quivered ever so slightly. Was he suppressing laughter? He shrugged. “I’m certain it’s from a leak in the roof. This is a rather old church.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle. He was lying. She was certain. Not for the first time, she wondered why the earth never obeyed her bidding and swallowed her up? How much mortification must one endure before it finally obeyed?

That Freddie seemed so wholly unconcerned by it only added to her vexation.

They’d turned their worlds upside down little more than a week ago, and he seemed as if he had not a care in the world. What was he about? Was he just so adaptable as not to be bothered? Or did he just not care about their reputations?

She balled her hands at her sides. “My apologies for soiling your coat.” She looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

He moved in front of her and gently lifted her chin with his finger. “What have you to apologize for?”

She finally allowed herself to look in his lovely blue eyes. “It will certainly leave a mark,” she whispered.

“Pish,” he said, sounding like his aunt. “I’m only pleased I could offer you comfort when you needed it.”

“I wish you were a little less comfortable,” she grumbled under her breath. He was making it far too easy to become attached to him—something she knew could not happen. “Next time, I wish you would awaken me before I make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ll be unable to promise that.”

She lifted her finger to her lips, then dropped it, stomping her foot instead. “And why is that, my lord?” Did he wish for a foolish wife?

He lifted a hand and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.