Page 23

Gracious, was her hair in disarray? Oh! Could this situation be any worse?

“How could I deny myself something so delightful? I believe I might keep you awake the whole of every night before a Sunday sermon.” He flicked his gaze to the spot. “I’m uncertain I can endure one without you on my shoulder.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew he was jesting—which only mortified her more. “What must Lady Dalmeer think of me?”

“She thought you understandably exhausted.” There was something he was not saying.

And then it dawned on her. Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment.

Drat that twinkle in Freddie’s eye!

He held out his arm to her. “Shall we be on our way? Or would you care to rest some more?” He raised his other shoulder. “This side is quite up to the task.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m ready to return.” In truth, she was still exhausted. But she wasn’t about to stay behind and sleep on his shoulder in the church. She could sleep in the bed in their chambers with only slightly less mortification. But at least it would be private mortification.

She placed her hand on his arm. “Are we to walk? I can only assume the carriages have returned to Bellthorne Hall.”

He put his hand over hers. Why must he be so nice when she’d made such a muddle of things? “One will return to fetch us. I should think it’s nearly here.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “Thank you.” If she were being honest, she’d been looking forward to the walk. Or more precisely, the cool air. Her body was feeling decidedly too warm for her liking.

He looked down at her. “Am I to assume from your sigh that you’d rather walk?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I have no preference. If the carriage is more to your liking, I’ll not dissuade you.”

His brows dipped ever so slightly. “You may share your thoughts with me, Phoebe. You need not tell me what you think I wish to hear.”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t⁠—”

He gave her a bland look. “You’re not a proficient liar, my dear.” He winked at her. What did that mean? “If you prefer to walk, I’m amenable to it.” He led her out of the chapel and into the cool December air. No one lingered outside. She’d well and truly slept through the whole service. Goodness, she was a ninny! What would her mother say?

The carriage came to a stop in front of them.

She shook her head. “The carriage is fine. I’m still a little fatigued.” She had little doubt sleep would elude her again. But she craved a moment alone. A chance for her to sift through her thoughts and feelings without the object of those thoughts and feelings sitting next to her, studying her every facial expression.

Eight

“Iwondered,” Freddie started, but then he stopped. Perhaps he should not ask. She was tired and needed to sleep. It was apparent Pippy’s nap during church had embarrassed her.

In truth, the only person who’d been vexed by it—apart from Pippy—was the vicar. And as far as Freddie was concerned, if the good vicar made his sermons a little less dull, and a little less lengthy, then perhaps people would not be inclined to sleep through them.

For his part, Freddie had found the experience delightful. He’d never thought himself one to enjoy a lady sleeping on his shoulder. But it truly had been the highlight of his day. And not only because of the vicar’s less-than-happy reaction.

He paused. When had he become one to delight in the vexing of a clergyman? Perhaps he’d always had the inclination? Regardless, he could not wish the incident away.

If only their time together last night had been so easy. Neither of them had slept much. Pippy had hardly moved a muscle the whole of the night. But Freddie knew she wasn’t asleep. She’d never settled into the rhythmic breathing one does when they sleep—the breathing Pippy made while sleeping on his shoulder in church.

He’d tried everything he could think of to set her at ease the previous night. He finally resorted to snoring, hoping she would relax enough to sleep.

Alas, she had relaxed slightly—he’d felt the movement on the mattress. But she had not slept. It really was no surprise she’d finally succumbed during the sermon.

“Yes?” Pippy said with slight irritation.

It drew him back to the present. He lifted a shoulder. “Never you mind. You’re tired and wish to take a nap. We’ll speak later.”

She stared at him, as if trying to decipher what he had not said. “If there is something you wish to say, please say it.”

He sighed, clasping his hands behind his back. “I only wondered if you might like some chocolate? I brought some tablets with me from Fry’s.” He peered at her from the corner of his eye. “I’d hate to drink it alone.”