“Why ever not? Just go quickly. No one will be out and about in the hall so late.”
“You forget.” He folded his arms. “This is also my room . . . wife.” He watched me cringe as he strolled back over to the bed, all the while doing his best to hide that maddening smile. I set my jaw, but I was unable to hold a frown as there was something annoyingly appealing about Torrington’s engaging yet uncertain countenance.
He pressed the mattress to see how soft it was. “Not bad.” His eyes found mine. “Do you think . . . Well, considering our pending arrangement and how blasted tired I am, perhaps you might allow me to make use of the empty side of the bed? In a strictly business way, mind you.”
I launched my pillow at his head. “You presume too much, my lord.”
A muffled groan escaped as the pillow made contact with his face, then flopped onto the rug. He smoothed his hair back into place. “No bed. Understood.” He reached down and swiped the pillow from the floor before cradling it against his chest. “My name is Adrian, by the way. You’d best start calling me that.” He raised his chin. “Since we are madly in love and to be married tomorrow. And don’t fret, I shall find a spot here on the rug until then.” He smiled. “With the pillow.”
Chapter 3
As with so many previous events in my life, my marriage proved the complete opposite of my dreams. Lifeless. Rushed. Apparently Lord Torrington had little imagination where the ceremony was concerned. We simply gathered before lunch the following day in the small back room of the White Lion Inn, surrounded by the shredded remains of stained wallpaper and the lingering scent of ale.
The only attendees were the local rector and his wife. As one would expect, the mood of the service matched the dull ache in my head.
The whole dreadful thing felt more like a wayward dream than reality, with the unsettling thought of Brook never far from my mind. Of course, when the rector turned his piercing glare on me, I said and did what was expected, providing a shaky answer when prompted. It was only later in Torrington’s crested carriage that I found myself able to breathe, able to sort through the startling truth that I was indeed married—and to Brook’s brother no less.
The atmosphere within the coach held a balance of the cold spring morning and the heavy silence of thought. I suspect we were both a bit dazed by our impulsive decision. Especially Adrian, who sat on the edge of his seat as if he anticipated something.
Finally I heard him sigh. “You look done in.”
I forced a weak smile as I adjusted Isaac’s sleeping form farther up my chest. “I’m afraid I am.”
He leaned forward. “Is it your head that plagues you? Or me?”
I hesitated. “My head . . . among other things.” I retreated to the window. What did he expect me to say to that? He only wanted to make light of our situation. Well, it didn’t feel light to me.
The persistent March sun flashed in and out of a string of errant clouds and extended its sharp fingers one streak at a time through the glass. My squinted gaze roamed the far hills and beyond the dithered valley in the direction of the home I would not see for some time.
A creak of the bench, and I turned just as Adrian crossed over to Isaac’s and my side of the carriage. Gently, Adrian wrestled him from my hands, his eyes softening as he regarded Isaac’s rosy cheeks.
“I believe your mama needs a moment to herself. She has been most accommodating up until now.” He stole a glance at me as he placed my sleeping son against his far shoulder without so much as a squirm, then smiled. “Don’t forget, I’ve had two of these already.” He gave a light chuckle. “But not one of this variety, I’m afraid. I fear I shall have much to learn. Tell me, will my estate ever be the same?”
“Not likely.” I allowed a grin but couldn’t hide the pain that persisted behind my eyes.
Adrian sighed. “It is unfortunate that we had to leave for Middlecrest today, but when you seemed somewhat recovered earlier, I thought it best . . .”
“Please, don’t concern yourself. It was my decision to leave. The doctor declared me fit to travel, and I wanted nothing more than to be rid of that horrid inn. It is not so far to your estate; as I understand, it is close to Plattsdale. I shall do my best to bear the journey.”
“Indeed. We should be there within the quarter hour.” He motioned down with his head. “In the meantime, my other shoulder is free if you are in need of a pillow.”
I ignored his jab. If his light snores were to be believed, he’d slept quite well on the thin carpet while I lay awake in misery pondering my fate.
Giving in to fatigue, I choked back my pride and rather awkwardly settled my head on his shoulder while my fingers sought the gold band on my hand. My wedding ring. He bought it this morning from a local craftsman when he left to acquire the special license. It was not a perfect fit, but it would do. “How did you know?”
The tension in his muscles eased. “Know what?”
“That I would agree to this outrageous idea.”
He paused to peek at the bundle on his chest. “Isaac.” His voice relaxed, his words sounded like the notes in a song. “I could see it in your eyes from the moment I met you. You would do anything for him.”
He fell silent, his gaze on Isaac’s curly head. “In that, we have much in common. I feel the same about my girls.” I felt him turn away from me, and I wished I could see the look on his face, because when he spoke next, his tone had turned grim. “I sent word of our arrival ahead of us to Middlecrest by way of my valet.” Again, that hesitation. “I daresay the announcement of our marriage will be something of a shock for them all; nonetheless, I decided it best for everyone to be made aware of our, uh, situation before you arrive. It will be easier that way.”
My mouth felt suddenly dry. “I understand.” Did he mean our marriage or the fact I had a son?
“My daughters really are good girls. They have simply had a level of freedom in the house that might need some adjustment. Though change is difficult at times, it is also necessary.”
My eyes widened. “Oh?” So his daughters were likely spoiled. Our little arrangement might be more involved than I originally thought.
He added, “Timing is also a bit delicate at present. You see, a large party has arrived at the house.”
“A large party?”
“I should have told you before, but there has been so much to discuss and arrange . . .” He gave a little shrug. “You see, my eldest daughter is to be married at the close of the week.”
I sat up to face him, my hands clenched in my lap. “You mean to tell me we’ve stolen a march on your own daughter?”
He seemed a bit surprised by my reaction, moving to pat Isaac’s back to ensure his sleep. “No, not precisely. This is my second marriage, and I assure you, Juliana is as practical as she is serious. She will hardly regard it.”
I blinked. “Will she not?” Then lifted my eyebrows. “Perhaps you don’t know women as well as they say you do.”
He stilled, but he didn’t refute my words.
All at once the coach slowed, and what appeared to be a gatehouse loomed large in the side window, blighting out the sun. The conversation fell away as red bricks, weathered by the hands of time, peaked from beneath a curtain of ivy and followed a curved arch and narrow opening. Three rectangular windows faced the road, but the building didn’t seem to be occupied as the coach only reduced its speed to traverse the entrance.