Husband? Penny thought frantically even as she choked on her tea, the hot liquid burning a scalding path down her throat. Molly hurried to her side, rescuing the cup which was in danger of toppling to the floor.
“Are ye all right, yer grace?” the inn keeper’s wife exclaimed, her smile turning to one of the most extreme alarm as she noticed Penny’s distress.
Gasping for breath, Penny managed a reassuring nod, taking the cup of water Molly held out to her. The cool liquid soothed the burning, and she mercifully felt fine. “Thank you, Molly.” She smiled at the girl gratefully before turning to the innkeeper. “I am quite all right. Thank you. The tea simply went down the wrong way.”
The woman nodded, relief flooding her wrinkled face. “Aye, it be rather alarming when that happens. Molly, fetch some more cold water for her ladyship at once.”
The maid curtsied and hurried out, while her mistress busied herself with laying out the delicious smelling stew. However, Penny’s mind raced, and she wished the Duke were here so she could question him about this husband business. Had he gone mad? What would possess him to create the impression that they were man and wife?
“There. Ye should eat something, yer grace. It will help warm ye up nice. May I send for yer maid to assist ye undress?” The woman’s voice broke into her frantic musing.
She’d never had the luxury of a personal maid, or any servant whatsoever, impoverished as they were. From childhood, her siblings and herself had been taught to manage on their own, and after Mama’s passing, the responsibilities of the household had fallen naturally on her shoulder’s.
Seeing the woman’s face cloud in confusion, she hastened to add, well aware of how strange it seemed that a duke and his duchess travelled without the usual army of servants. “That is, my maid took ill on the journey here, so I sent her home…with my…husband’s valet for company.”
Feeling flustered by the deception, Penny looked at the steaming bowl of soup, but her appetite had fled. However, she took the meal from her hostess and smiled.
“Thank you,” she murmured, stirring the contents, the aroma wafting into her nostrils. “Do you know if the Du…my…husband returned yet?”
The woman beamed at her. “Shall I find out for ye?” “Yes, please. Thank you, Mrs?”
“Mrs. Potter, at ye service, yer grace. And don’t ye worry about the maid. Our Molly will be right glad to serve you while ye are here.” The woman dropped a brief curtsy and moved towards the door. “Molly will be back with some fresh water for ye. If ye need anything, just ask.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The minute the door shut, Penny set the bowl on the table and rose, hastening to the window. Her heart sank at the sight of the rain still falling heavily. She worried about Phillip; he was sure to take ill if he remained outside in this terrible weather. She turned from the window and hurried to the door, yanking it open and moving quickly into the hallway and down the stairs.
The innkeeper was busy issuing orders to his staff and welcoming guests in the main room, the place bustling with stranded travellers also
seeking shelter from the storm but he hurried over quickly as soon as he spotted her descent.
“Your Grace! Is everything not to your satisfaction?” he asked, a worried frown on his face as he watched her come down the flight of stairs. “Do you require something perhaps?”
“No, no…” Penny hastened to reassure the man with a smile. “I simply wondered if my…husband had returned yet.” The word husband seemed to stick in her throat, and she prayed to God to forgive her for the deception.
Mr. Potter shook his head and gestured outside. “No, my lady, he has not.”
“Oh.” She turned to remount the stairs but had to stand aside for a young woman with red hair who smiled at her pleasantly. She returned the smile and retreated to her room to wait.
Back in the room, she paced back and forth, hurrying to the window every few minutes to check if Phillip had returned. What could be keeping him? Was he hurt?
She became aware of the sound of boots coming up the stairs, and she tensed, hoping it would be him. The door was flung open, and Phillip stood there, his clothes dripping onto the wooden floor, dark hair plastered to his face. Yet he still managed to look as arresting as he always did. She gasped, hurrying to his side, taking his hand to lead him to the chair by the fire. He allowed himself to be led without a word or gesture of protest, taking the chair with a tired sigh.
“Are you alright?” Penny asked, busying herself trying to undo his sodden boots. “You must be terribly cold.”
Her query was met with silence, and she looked up to find him staring at her with a bemused expression on his face. Something flickered in his eyes, so quick she could hardly identify the expression. Her fingers stilled, and she let them drop to her lap, lowering her gaze from his. She could feel a hot flush of colour steal across her cheeks, wondering what that look could possibly mean.
“Why do you suddenly take an interest in my well-being, Miss Inglewood?” His voice broke the jumbled ramblings of her thoughts, and she looked up at him quickly. He was still staring at her, this time with a sardonic twist to his mouth. “Have I been elevated from the very devil incarnate to some sort of sainthood?”
She blushed once more and rose hastily, feeling the burn of humiliation. He mocked her! Mocked her for showing some measure of sensitivity for his health. Dear Lord, the man was incorrigible.
“I simply wished to ensure you do not take ill, Your Grace. That would be a dreadful hindrance, and I would be loath to leave you behind while I continue the search,” she said frostily, turning from him and striding to the bed to retrieve her box, stuffing the discarded contents back in hurriedly.
She heard him chuckle, much to her consternation. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort, the nasty man. Annoyed, she rounded on him and treated him to a scorching glare. “And I certainly do not appreciate the deception. We are not husband and wife, thank heavens. There was no need to lie to those people. What would happen if someone who knows you happens by here?”
His eyes darkened, and he leaned forward to glare at her. “Would you like to be branded a trollop, Miss Inglewood? A light skirt traveling not only without a chaperone but in the company of a gentleman. In his arms, no less. I lied to save your bloody reputation. Though it appears I should not have bothered.”
Penny fell silent, hating that his words were true, and now she would have to apologize to the blasted man. Being used to acting as chaperone for Lucy and needing none for herself, she’d hardly given thought to how her journey would look in the unmerciful eyes of society especially in light of the scandal Edward and Miss Rosebury’s elopement was sure to cause.. Fiona had tried to warn her, but she had been too preoccupied with worry for Edward to pay much attention. She cast him a covert look from beneath her lashes. He was busy undoing the laces of his boots, looking thoroughly displeased at the entire situation.
“I am truly sorry,” she whispered into the heavy silence that had fallen over them. He made no response, but his movements stilled for a moment before he seemed to cast away her apology with a shrug of his shoulders. She sighed, moving to perch on the other seat facing his own. “Do you need help with those? I used to help Papa remove his boots, so it should be easy to do yours.”
He raised his eyes to cast a quick glance at her and chuckled. “I believe I can remove my own boots.”
“There is no need to laugh at the offer,” she snapped, shooting him a baleful glare. “A simple no would suffice.”
He sighed and tugged off one boot, letting it fall heedlessly to the floor. “I was not laughing at you. Can you please cease nagging for a while?”
Penny’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “I beg your pardon!” She huffed. “I never nag. How rude of you to say such.”
The other boot slid off, and he sighed in satisfaction, barely paying any attention to her words. He studied her for a few minutes, then rose abruptly and removed his sodden coat, tossing it to join the discarded boots. Penny’s eyes widened in alarm when his hands moved to the buttons of his shirt.
“W–what do you think you are doing?” she cried in alarm, clamping a hand over her mouth in mortification. He simply raised an eyebrow at her apparent discomfort.
“I am removing my shirt, Miss Inglewood. Does that offend you? I believe you have seen me without a shirt only this morning?”
“But you cannot…Not here…oh Lord…” The last part was said as the top buttons parted to reveal a firm muscular chest, lightly covered with dark strands of hair. Her face heated, and though she tried to avert her eyes modestly, she found they had developed a will of their own and remained fixed on his bare flesh. Her breathing quickened to short quick breaths that came out as tiny gasps for air. Her fingers strangely itched to touch that expanse of male skin, and her mouth went dry in desire.
He turned away, presenting her with his back as he faced the fire and removed the shirt completely, revealing surprisingly well-toned bronzed skin as though he spent a lot of time in the sun. Penny had seen a fair amount of bare chested men—her papa and Edward, sometimes removed their shirts when doing heavy work on the farm—but nothing compared to this…this sight before her. She gave herself a little shake, bringing herself back to firm reality. This was not the time to go into raptures over a man’s nakedness, not while Edward and Jane could very well be in danger. Besides, if he wished to undress, he could find himself another room.
“Do you not think this is inappropriate?” she questioned him, hating how breathless she sounded at that particular moment. “You should go to your room if you wish to divest yourself of your wet clothes. You can return for supper. I will order it to be heated again.”
He burst into laughter, completely taking her by surprise. “My dear Miss Inglewood, I am afraid this is my room as well as yours. You see, another reason for our little deception was because the inn keeper informed me there was only one room available…Not to worry, I will not plague you with my presence for much longer. I will seek a bed elsewhere. Your virtue will be intact.”
She looked confused. “But you said there were no other accommodations? Where do you intend to go then?”
“Never mind that.” Phillip waved away her concern and nodded towards the uneaten bowl of stew. “Why are you not eating? You need to keep up your strength.”
She glanced at the food, and her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. She blushed and hastily reached for the bowl, unwilling to look at him for fear of what she would find there. She took a bite, finding the stew to be quite good, and began to eat quickly, not caring what he thought of her eating habits.
“May I have some?” he asked in amusement. “Or do you intend to consume the entire thing by yourself?”
“Oh. I had no idea you wanted some.” She set down her bowl and rose to dish a serving from the still warm pot. She held it out to him, careful to keep her eyes averted from the distracting form of his bare chest. He accepted the food with murmured thanks and resumed his seat. They ate in silence, neither speaking till each had finished the meal, each lost in thought. Penny certainly hoped the two lovers were dry and warm and well-fed. She sighed and glanced out the window. It was still raining heavily.
“Has the road been cleared yet?” she asked him, setting down her empty bowl. “What about Colin? Is he here?”
“The blasted rain is not helping at all,” he replied. “They will have to wait till the rain subsides before any clearing can be done. Your coachman chose to stay with the carriage. He will be all right as long as he stays inside.”
“Oh dear…do you suppose Edward will have sought shelter?” “He will be a fool not to. Unless he wishes to put Jane’s health in
jeopardy, he will seek an inn and wait till the storm passes.”
She studied him covertly from beneath her lashes, a question tugging at her lips, but she was not certain he would appreciate her poking her nose into his affairs. “May I ask a question?”
He studied her for a moment then nodded. “You may, but I do not guarantee I will supply an answer.”
She bit her lip and thought for a while. “Why are you so insistent on marrying Miss Rosebury? I mean it is obvious the two of you do not care for each other. I understand there was an agreement between your father and hers, but surely, you’re the Duke now and—”
“And that is none of your concern, Miss Inglewood,” he cut in, his voice harsh.
Chastened, Penny nodded and looked away, busying herself with the remainder of her stew. An awkward silence reigned in the room until Phillip rose, retrieving his shirt from where he’d hung it to dry above the fireplace and shrugged into it.
“Go to bed immediately,” he ordered in a brusque tone, striding to the door. “I will come up for you as soon as it is dawn. Be ready.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“The stables, of course.”
She gaped at him in disbelief. “But you cannot…That will be uncomfortable.”
“Well, I do not see any other alternative. Unless you are offering me a place on your bed?” He grinned, a devilish grin that did not quite reach his eyes which remained cold and distant.
“I warn you, though, the only women I share a bed with are those I intend to make love to. Do you want that?”
She blushed. Damn the man for always making her blush. In one evening, she had blushed more than her entire lifetime. “Don’t be absurd. I simply wish to suggest you sleep here—not on my bed, of course—but we can create a makeshift bed of sorts on the floor…Besides, we—we are supposed to be married. Don’t you think it will raise questions if you sleep in the stables?”
“My, my, how ingenious of you.” Phillip mocked her. “Are you sure you want me in the same room? Not afraid I will take advantage of you?”
She lifted her chin and stared at him defiantly. “Unless you wish mortal injury, I would suggest you do not attempt it. Now, are you going to stay or not?”
He burst into loud laughter and nodded. “Very well. I accept your generous offer. Much preferable than sleeping out in the blasted cold anyway. Thank you.”
“I will need some time alone to…get ready for bed.”
“Of course, I will retire to the main room downstairs, will come up in an hour.” He opened the door and left.
The minute he was gone, Penny wondered if she had lost her mind. What on earth was she thinking having him sleep in the same room? But oh, she could hardly let him sleep in the stables. After all, he had paid for the room, and she was simply a straggler. She sighed and began to undress
again, removing only the corset and stays, leaving on her shift beneath the gown. She rang for some extra bed sheets and blankets and when it arrived, proceeded to make a bed for him on the floor, situating it as far away from her bed as possible. She had just slipped under the covers, pulling them securely up to her neck when a knock sounded on the door, and she heard him call her name softly.
“Come in,” she called out a response, sinking deeper under the covers, her face flaming. He walked in, taking in the scene with knowing eyes, but wisely said nothing, simply reaching for the candle and blowing it out, plunging the room in darkness. She could hear the rustling of clothes, and she shut her eyes tightly, though her mind kept imagining all sorts of wicked things.
“Good night, Penelope.” His voice floated out of the darkness, startling her. She turned her head in his direction but could not make out anything in the dark. She licked her dry lips nervously. He had called her by her given name! She realized she quite liked the way it sounded from his lips.
“Good night…Your Grace,” she whispered.
“Phillip…” he responded. “Call me Phillip. After all, we are supposedly man and wife.”
She hesitated. A lady never called a gentleman by his given name. Even wives seldom did so, unless there was some sort of understanding between them. What the Duke was suggesting went beyond the bounds of propriety. Which was silly really, considering they were actually sharing a bedroom. Lord! If this tale ever got to the ears of the ton, there would be a scandal to rival any other.
“Good night, Your Grace,” she said firmly and heard him chuckle. She pulled the covers over her head, sure she would be unable to sleep with him so close to her. However, she soon drifted off to sleep.
Phillip lay awake on the damn uncomfortable makeshift bed, staring at the crackling flames in the fireplace. Penny’s question floated in his thoughts, affecting him more than he was willing to admit.
Why did he not call off the engagement? Penny was right; he could do so if he wished to simply forgive old man Rosebury the gambling debts and end the betrothal. Several times over the years, he’d been sorely tempted, but as always, a sense of duty overruled his wishes.
A duke, especially a Newbridge, did not back out of agreements. Those were the words hammered in his head from the moment he’d been old enough to talk. In his mind, backing out of the betrothal amounted to the same thing. Plus, there was the added benefit that a huge part of the Rosebury estate (land that would come as part of Miss Rosebury’s dowry) sat atop a veritable fortune in coal, a fact that was unknown to even Lord Rosebury himself. Phillip’s father had disclosed this to him but had declined to say how he’d come about the information.
He sighed and rubbed at his temple, the beginnings of a headache worrying him. Turning to glance at the bed, he could just make out the outline of the woman underneath the covers. Penelope Inglewood was an intriguing woman without a doubt. Headstrong but brave. Annoying yet irresistible. Especially when she looked up at him with those eyes that seemed to see a different part of him than the rest of the world. The part of him that was vulnerable, the part he’d ruthlessly buried years ago. Those were his last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.