Page 50 of The Marriage Method

“Wasn’t it obvious?” She stepped back from him. Her unbound hair curled in loose waves down her back, the flaxen strands shimmering like moonbeams in the flickering firelight.

Miles wished he’d taken the opportunity to touch it as he’d kissed her. He could only imagine what it would feel like. “Not to me,” he said. “But then, I’m somewhat out of practice myself.”

She gave him an interested look. “There’s no one else that you…That is, there hasn’t been another…”

“No,” he said. “Not for a long while.” He paused. “And you—?”

“No,” she answered. “Never.”

He nodded. “Well, that’s…” But he could think of nothing else to say.

Across the room, the bed loomed in the waning candlelight, the coverlet turned down invitingly.

Miles cleared his throat. He hadn’t made it this far in life by abandoning his self-control. “I’ll allow you to get some rest,” he said. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”

She clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes. I should at least try to sleep.”

“I should do the same,” he said.

“Where is your room?”

“Next door. We’re connected through the bathing room. Did Mrs. Bright not mention it?”

Nell’s cheeks burned brighter. “Er, no. She didn’t say. And I was too weary to ask. But it naturally makes sense. As we’re married—”

“Quite,” he said. “If you need anything—”

The door creaked open on its hinges. Both he and Nell turned, startled out of their abominable awkwardness, by the sight of Horus pushing his way into her room.

He was the oldest of the strays in residence. An enormous, slightly over-plump, long-haired black cat with wide golden eyes. The undisputed ruler of the house, as Mrs. Bright had described him. He padded across the carpet, making straight for Nell.

Her mouth tipped up. “Horus, I presume.”

“Come to inspect you just as he inspected Shadow,” Miles said.

Nell sank down, a little clumsily on her injured leg, holding out a hand to the cat in unspoken greeting. Horus approached to sniff the curve of her fingers. He blinked twice before rubbing his cheek against her knuckles. His seal of approval as it were.

“Shall I remove him?” Miles asked.

“Oh no,” she replied. “I wouldn’t dream of evicting him.”

“I warn you, he’ll attempt to sleep next to you all night, and possibly steal your pillow.”

“I don’t mind.” Nell scratched Horus’s head. “I would appreciate the company.”

Miles’s muscles tightened, a dozen responses running through his head at once. When it came to the point, he opted for the safest one. “In that case,” he said, “I shall bid you both good night.”

“Good night, Miles,” Nell replied without looking at him. She continued petting the cat. “Sleep well.”

Miles hesitated for a moment longer in brooding silence before exiting her bedchamber and heading for his own. He had the bleak premonition that tonight sleep was going to elude him.

13

The following day, at precisely nine o’clock, Nell entered the offices of the London Courant on Miles’s arm. She had arranged her hair in an unostentatious roll, and dressed with care in her best blue silk day dress, understanding only too well the importance of appearances on this occasion. Her drawstring workbag was looped over her arm in lieu of a reticule. Miles had told her he’d need to remain at his office for an hour or two this morning. It would be the ideal opportunity for Nell to finish the sampler she’d begun last night.

“You should know,” Miles said, “my staff will have no reason to suspect ours is a marriage of convenience.”

Nell ascended the stairs at his side, cane in hand. Her limp was less evident today owing to yesterday evening’s bath and a judiciously applied hot water bottle. She’d even managed to get a few hours of sleep. Horus had kept her company until dawn, a great solid weight against her back, ensuring that she didn’t have to spend her first night at St. James’s Square completely alone.