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Chapter21
Fear was my loyal companion, no thanks to a little late-night reading after dinner. I slunk lower beneath the bedclothes to hide from whatever might lie waiting for me in the dark. My feet hit the wooden footboard of my bed, startling me. A little yelp escaped my dry throat and echoed softly in my large bedroom.
It had been hours since I parted ways with James after dinner, and everyone was certainly asleep by now. The temptation to ring for tea or milk merely so Fanny would come to me was strong, but I resisted. I would not wake my maid merely because I had been foolish enough to read a gothic novel at night and was now terrified of ghosts which were not truly present.
Shadows danced across the wall, cast about from the moonlight through the window, and I squeezed my eyes closed.
Oh, dear. That was worse. I opened them again and looked about for whatever creeping thing could be in my room causing the creaking sound.
There was nothing for it. I simply would not sleep tonight. It was too bad I did not have another book, or even the fire, for I could read to pass the time.
Did James have books in his room? Unlikely. I looked to the door that led from my chamber to his, and an idea struck me. I could go to him. Perhaps if I woke James and told him I heard a creaking sound, he would check my room to ensure I was safe, and then I would be able to fall asleep knowing that he was awake on the other side of the wall.
It was unkind of me, given the hour, but I had no other choice if I wanted any chance of sleep tonight. Then I would finish the book tomorrow in the light of day and read something else to remove it from my mind.
My plan set, I sat up slowly, looking about me for any specters I might have missed a moment ago. The room looked clear of spirits, and I sucked in a deep breath and threw back my blankets, jumping to the floor and padding across it softly in my stockinged feet. When I reached James’s door, I opened it slowly, grateful the hinges did not squeak. His room was equally dark, and his soft, heavy breathing could be heard.
The steady sound was at once comforting, chasing away my imagined ghosts, and I knew with sudden surety that I would not be able to wake my husband. How could I? I slipped into the room, soaking in the comfort of knowing he was near, and I could hear him.
My limbs relaxed in his presence, and I slumped against the wall. I had been battling sleep for hours, and my body was exhausted. James lay only a handful of steps away from me, and his bed was so large. I could curl up on the foot of it like a hound, and he would never know I was there.
The idea settled on my chest, and I considered it greater. Could I do such a thing? Climb into his bed without his knowledge? I could snatch a few hours of sleep and then return to my own chamber in the morning, and he would never know it.
A creak in my bedroom made me startle, and my elbow hit the wall. My whole body went cold and still while James turned over, mumbling incoherently. If he was to wake and find me, what would I say in defense of my presence here like a peeping busybody?
Oh goodness. If he was to awake and find me in his bed, what would I say then? I could not climb into the man’s bed without his permission. That was simply preposterous.
I sucked in a quiet breath and blew it out through puffed cheeks. James had been so kind and attentive. If I woke him to tell him of my fears, surely he would not be angry. Perhaps I would only ask if I could leave the door open between our rooms. He would give his consent, then fall back asleep swiftly.
“James,” I whispered, but he did not budge.
I crossed toward the bed and reached for him, pressing my fingers into the bare skin of his shoulder.
Oh, good heavens. The man slept without a shirt? Was that normal?
“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes closed.
“James, I’ve had a fright.”
He sat up swiftly and looked at me through tired eyes, the blanket falling to his waist. “What is it, Liss? What has happened?”
Liss. I liked that. “Nothing has happened. I have only had a fright. I needed to . . . um . . . ask if you would mind—”
“No, not at all.” His voice was husky with sleep, and he moved over on the bed.
He was making room for me.
“That isn’t necessary,” I said quickly.
He looked up again and squinted at me in the darkness. “I will keep to our agreement, Liss. But if you are frightened, you may sleep here. We are married. There is nothing untoward about it.”
That certainly sounded better than returning to my creaky, ghost-infested room alone. “If you are sure it is not an inconvenience.”
His low chuckle seeped under my skin. “It is no inconvenience.”
No more than being woken in the middle of the night, he was likely thinking.
I slipped under the blanket, the feather mattress warm where James had previously been laying, and pulled the blanket up to my chin. The room was quiet, now void of his deep breathing, and I was extremely aware of every noise and move I made. Did it shake the entire bed? Was I breathing too loudly?
