Heat crept up his cheeks, and he pushed himself away from her and sat up. She did the same, and he was interested to see that she was also blushing.
“How long have you been awake?” he asked, to mask the awkwardness of the moment.
“Just a few minutes.”
She was averting her gaze, and he understood why. This was probably the first time in her life that she had been held in bed. Although, truthfully, it had been a long time for him as well…
“Forgive me,” he said, coughing slightly. “I am not used to sharing a bed, and my body must have taken over at some point in the night.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” she murmured. Another awkward silence ensued, and then she stood up. “I should… get ready to go.”
“Of course!” James practically leaped up. He then turned away quickly.
In the daylight, their state of undress was accentuated, and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
Or look at her mussed hair and rumpled nightdress.
Such sights would only inspire thoughts that he absolutely should not be entertaining right now.
“I’ll leave you to dress,” he said. “And please take your time. I have an errand to run before we leave.”
“All right, but James…” He turned and saw her biting her lip again. “Please hurry. I have never been more ready to leave a place in my life. And that includes my father’s house!”
“Where is your husband?” Lady Carfield asked an hour later as she, Violet, and Rosalie sat in the parlor, waiting. “He’s been gone for almost an hour!”
“I know, Mama, and I’m sure he will return soon,” Violet replied as soothingly as she could.
Truthfully, she was anxious to leave as well. Her husband had left the guards here with them, and he must have believed there was no more threat to his life because he had gone out alone.
But she was nervous. Despite his victory over Farrell, danger still lurked. The inn had almost been burned down to the ground last night, and her father was still out there.
“Aren’t you worried?” Lady Carfield asked, peering at her.
Violet opened her mouth to answer in the negative, but then she stopped herself.
That’s what you’ve been doing your whole life—hiding your feelings to protect others. But you don’t have to do that anymore.
“Yes,” she said instead, looking her mother in the eyes. “I am worried.”
Across from her, Rosalie put her book down, an astonished look on her face. “Did Violet just admit to having a real, human feeling?!” she gasped.
“Don’t mock me,” Violet huffed.
“I’m not mocking you! I appreciate hearing you voice your real emotions, after everything you’ve been through these past few days.”
“Yes, well, I’m trying something new,” Violet said waspishly.
“Being more like me?” Rosalie asked hopefully.
“Being more open,” Violet said, laughing. “So, yes, I am worried about my husband. But I also trust him. All his instincts have proved correct of late, and if he feels he can go out alone, then I trust he knows what he’s doing.”
Lady Carfield reached across the sofa and took Violet’s hand. “I’m proud of you, my dear,” she murmured. “It’s not easy to admit when we are afraid, and it’s even harder to learn to trust someone.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Hoofbeats sounded outside, and the three of them looked towards the window. Seconds later, the carriage James had departed in came into view.
Everything looked normal, and when it had halted, the footmen jumped down and opened the door. James emerged, then shouted instructions, and the footmen unloaded a crate from the back.
