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“Yes,” she said, not bothering to keep the grumble from her voice “In Lady Margaret’s room. Lady Rawson didn’t trust that her daughter wouldn’t bolt, so she insisted we sleep in the same room.”
“And Lady Margaret took the only bed?”
She cocked her head in confusion. “Well, yes.” Hadn’t she been clear? It hadn’t made for the most comfortable accommodations, but it wasn’t as though she hadn’t dealt with discomfort before.
“You won’t be sleeping on a cot or the floor or anywhere but that bed tonight,” he said, his voice tight.
“Really, it isn’t a bother. And besides, you’re—”
“I’m what?” he asked, his arms crossed firmly across his chest. “The sort of cad who would make a woman who’s just ridden for hours sleep on the floor?”
“I was going to say that you’re a baron,” she said, mirroring his gesture and crossing her own arms.
He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “For all the good that title’s done me.”
It was her turn to frown now. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know why I’m on the road, Miss Ephram? I’m down to my last funds, and putting Merlin out to stud is supposed to pay for a season and a couple of suitable dresses for my two sisters, Effie and Helen. I’m not even doing it out of the goodness of brotherly love. I need them married.”
“I don’t understand,” she said quietly.
He pushed a hand through his hair, gripping it at the roots so that it stood up a bit, mussed and disordered.
“I’m hard up for cash,” he finally said. “I can’t continue to support my sisters and myself for much longer, let alone the tenants who rely on me. There are improvements that have to be made to my estate, Madeley, and the only lifeline I have is a half-full stable of horses with good racing stock. Breeding Merlin will cover some of our immediate expenses, but it won’t fix everything. I’m trying my best to rebuild my family’s fortune with horseflesh. If I can hold on for a few good seasons, I might give myself enough time to make the estate sustainable again. That’s why it matters so much that your charge stole my horse.”
“I didn’t know,” she said, realizing that he hadn’t told her about his own journey because she hadn’t bothered to ask. She’d been so wrapped up in her own troubles that she hadn’t thought he might be burdened with something other than a wealthy man’s annoyance at having a prized animal stolen.
“I know you didn’t,” he said, his shoulders sagging a bit as he came down from his anger. “What man would want to admit to a pretty woman he’s just met that he’s broke and his luck perpetually feels on the verge of running out?”
He thought she was pretty? The possibility bloomed in her with the same warmth as a long drink of that brandy.
“Please, Miss Ephram, let me do one thing right today. Take the bed.”
She pursed her lips and then nodded. “Since you insist.”
He barked out a laugh and shook his head like a weary man. “I do. Now, if you don’t have any objections, I’ll ready to retire as well. I’m discovering that spending hours in wet clothes is uncomfortable.”
Her eyes widened as he grabbed his small leather traveling bag. “You didn’t change?”
“I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”
The thought that he’d sat there across from her eating his supper in wet clothes and she hadn’t even noticed increased her guilt. “You should have told me. I would’ve been happy to step outside.”
He looked up. “And told people what when you were found standing outside the door? We’re a married couple, remember?”
The word shouldn’t have made her blush so deeply, but there was no helping it. Luckily he was busy pulling a bit of cord from his bag, so he didn’t see the flush that rose up from the neck of her dress.
“That’s just the thing,” he muttered to himself.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he strode over to a lamp mounted on one wall.
“I’m building battlements.”
She watched him loop the cord around and tie it off before walking it over to the opposite wall and doing the same.
“Do you think you can spare that quilt from the bed?” he asked.
“Of course.” She hurried to pull it off and hand it to him.
