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He pretended to think on it. “No.”
She shook her head and laughed.
“You’ll come with me, then?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll come with you. Fool that I am. I’d like to see Bath once in my life.”
“It’s only the beginning,” he told her. “There are so many places we could travel together. We could see the country, Merry. The Continent too, if you like. There’s a whole world out there to be discovered.”
“Funny. There’s a whole world out there. And the one place I’m interested in discovering with you is the underside of a bedsheet.”
“I understand they have bedsheets in Bath.”
She smiled. “One night, Rhys. Your perfect gentleman act won’t last. You’ll be sharing my bed before the night’s out.”
“I’m counting on it. Because I know your innkeeping aspirations won’t survive a day beyond the borders of this village. Before the night’s out, we’ll be officially engaged.”
There. The battle lines were drawn. They just stood there for a moment, gazing at each other and letting all that pent-up sensual excitement prickle over and around and between them, like electric fluid in a thundercloud.
“This is fun,” he said.
“What is?”
“This.” He gestured into the space between them. “Just this.”
Itwasfun. It was near-unbearable, the tension between them, and possibly doing irreparable damage to his breeding organs. But it was also wonderful, and something he’d never experienced before. She wanted him, he wanted her, and the air around them just smoked with it. This was the force making him feel so alive, so driven, so directed toward a goal.
Because shewashis future. And somewhere, deep down, despite all her protests, she knew it too.
With a dry smile and a mock salute, he turned to leave.
“Rhys?”
He stopped. An absurd hope bloomed in his chest, that maybe she’d finally acknowledge it, give in. The trip to Bath could be their honeymoon.
“Take the hounds with you?” she asked. “I’ll sleep better if I know you’re not alone.”
He nodded and whistled to the dogs. Not quite what he’d been hoping for, but he’d take it. For now.
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh, ma’am. It does look well on you. You’d hardly know it was a strumpet’s gown.”
“Are you sure?” Meredith fretted in the predawn darkness, twisting and turning before the mirror. This was the largest looking glass in the inn—the one adorning her finest guest room—and still she couldn’t get a sufficiently reassuring view.
Proper-sized mirrors, she mentally added to her shopping list.
It had been two weeks since Rhys had issued the invitation to Bath. Why had she waited until the last possible moment to pack?
“The color’s lovely,” she said, running her hands over the ruby-red silk. Did genteel women truly wear such colors? “Are you absolutely certain I won’t look like a whore? That wouldn’t do at all.” She threw Cora a guilty look. “That is … I beg your pardon, dear.”
Cora smiled. “No need, Mrs. Maddox. I understand perfectly.”
Did she? Well, in that case, Meredith wished the girl would enlightenher. For she scarcely understood herself at all. Here she was leaving tomorrow morning to travel alone with a gentleman for several days, with the express purpose of making love to him several times, and no intention to allow said activities to culminate in marriage. And she was concerned that a red dress might make her look the tart?
She tugged up on the neckline. “I need a fichu.”
“I don’t think so, ma’am. The cut is not so very low, and your …” The girl’s voice died, and she cleared her throat.
