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When I lowered my hand, Thea was watching me. She closed her fingers around the item in her hand. Blast. I wanted to know what it was.
“If you are worried I’ll hide tomatoes in your bed, you needn’t fear,” she said quietly. “We shan’t be here long enough for them to rot.”
“In that case, I’m off to sleep.”
She rose in quiet acceptance, joining me as we made our way toward the door. “Your carriage, however, is another matter,” she said when we moved into the corridor.
I gave a start, but she kept her head bent, walking behind me like an invisible servant boy ought to do. Surely she did not mean to hide tomatoes in the carriage. It did not belong to me, so I would not be the man suffering the stench of rot. She must have been joking.
I hazarded a glance at Thea over my shoulder, her small frame and bent head much too submissive, irreconcilable with the person I knew her to be. When we reached the top of the stairs, she brandished the key she’d received from the innkeeper, then unlocked the door to let us inside.
The room was narrow and the bed surprisingly wide—likely meant to hold an entire family or more than one guest when the need arose. It certainly would not be holding more than one guest tonight. Our small bags were neatly lined against the wall, and I moved to mine to retrieve my tooth powder. I would have to sleep in my breeches tonight, an altogether uncomfortable prospect.
“There are additional blankets in the trunk,” Thea said, her voice matter-of-factly. “Mrs. Heath told me so.”
We both looked to the floor. There wasn’t room enough for me to lay anywhere on it.
“I will sleep on the floor tonight,” she said, taking me by surprise.
“No. I am more of a gentleman than to allow—”
“It is not a matter of you being a gentleman. It is a matter of practicality. The inn tomorrow will likely have more than one room available, and if it does not, we can pray for more available space on the floor.”
I shook my head. “My mother would be disgusted to learn I allowed you to sleep on the floor.”
“Your mother will be livid to learn that we traveled from Leicestershire to Cumberland without a proper chaperone. She willneverlearn that we also slept in the same room.”
Thea was correct. It could never leave either of our lips. But still, the prospect of taking the enormous bed when she slept on the hard wooden planks did not settle comfortably in my chest. I was raised to be a gentleman. Despite my discord with Thea—and her current apparel—she was still a lady.
“If we push the bed up against the door, there will be room enough,” I said, analyzing the shape of the room and the space available to us. It would work, I thought.
Thea bent over the trunk, pulling a musty quilt from it and shaking it out. “I do not intend to sleep on the flooreverynight, Benedict, but I can be the one to begin.”
“I don’t like it.”
She gave a frustrated huff. “Will you accept the situation if I vow to never speak a word of your ungentlemanly behavior tonight? Not only to others, but also to you. I will not tease you about it if it bothers you.”
“That is not the point—”
“It is, though, is it not? I can appreciate your deeply ingrained sense of chivalry, but you must admit that practicality overrides it in this circumstance. Your pride requires that you insist on sleeping on the floor, not your sense of right over wrong.” She removed her cap and set to unpinning her hair.
“My pride?” I scoffed, frustrated that she could not understand me, and doing my best to ignore the long hair she unraveled from its coil atop her head and fanned out in luscious waves. Perhaps it was more practical for Thea to sleep on the floor—she was small and could easily fit in the space—but it wasn’t mypridepressing the issue. It was the discomfort that filled my body at the thought of taking the comfortable bed over the hard floor.
“Yes.” She laid out a blanket on the floor and took a pillow from the bed to make a small sleeping nest. I watched her climb into it and pull a quilt over the top. “I am too tired to argue further, Ben. Do hurry and get into bed so we can blow out the candle, please.”
“You are sleeping in your clothes?”
She opened her eyes, her hair fanned around her head, making her look like a dark-haired angel. “You likely wouldn’t credit it, but this ensemble is one of the most comfortable things I’ve ever before worn. I could grow used to it.”
“It will come in handy when you escape again,” I said, moving to the washbasin to clean my teeth. “Perhaps your next position could be in the stables.”
“Oh, I’d love that,” she said dreamily.
It was one thing I remembered we had in common—an adoration for riding—which was not so uncommon a thing. The only woman of my acquaintance who did not love to ride was my sister-in-law, but that was not typical for gently bred young ladies.
I removed my coat and waistcoat, then worked on untying my cravat, laying each item over the trunk beneath the window. “It would certainly be better than a kitchen maid.”
“That was not the only position I held,” she said, surprising me. I knew of her original destination after she had left the school, but not where she spent her time between Gallingher and Brumley. More than that, though, I was surprised that she was forthcoming with any information at all.
