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“Perhaps he’ll get into a scrape or two at first. Perhaps he’s more resourceful than we give him credit,” he said, with a quiet seriousness that made her want to believe him.
As soon as they were alone, she resolved she would kiss him again. For being so sweet and understanding. For being him. For spending all evening chasing after a runaway wedding gift. She would have done it that moment if not for the inn’s clerk keenly watching their every gesture. Diane started up the stairs, anxiously counting each step to the room.
Diane yawned and rubbed her eyes most of the short walk upstairs, up the stairs, to the room.
Not soon enough, the bedroom door swung closed behind them, and they stood in the shade of the stoop, so close, all she had to do was put her hand on his shoulder, or perhaps grasp Liam’s lapel as soon as he turned to look at her, and pull him in to her.
Of course, by the time she stepped inside and noticed the singular bed, she was wide awake.
She spent several minutes standing in the doorway, staring at the bed, contemplating the bed.
Sleeping in the same bed as Liam. Sharing the blanket. Rolling over and knocking into him. Curling up against him, being surrounded by his strong arms. The sort of touching that might lead to the same kind of touching they'd done in the garden.
Then her eyes fell to the floor by the fireplace, where a pile of blankets and a pillow were laid out.
Oh.
Diane sunk onto the bed, the singular, spacious, all hers bed. She stared at its wide, empty expanse for several minutes, wondering why she’d gotten so hopeful over the thought they might share it. She didn’t know him well enough to think she loved him.
She only shook herself from her thoughts when Liam came up from stabling the horse, shrugging out of his coat when he stepped through the door.
He laid his coat over the back of a wooden chair, glancing to her.
“Something on your mind?” he asked as he started working on his cravat.
Diane chewed her lip a few moments. “After I deflowered your hand in the garden, really, what virtue is there left to preserve by sleeping on the ground?”
“You deflowered my hand,” Liam repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. She could just picture him wearing the barest of smiles the way he did, even with his back turned to her as he pulled the cravat off entirely.
“Fine. Spare me the details of whatever girl taught you so well,” she rolled her eyes.
“You think a lot of me clearly,” he said, shucking his boots. He brushed off his hands, turning around to her. His dark eyes met hers as he began undoing her cuffs. “When there were several years I had only myself for any deflowering.”
Heat bloomed across Diane’s cheeks, breaking out over her skin like a fever.
She thought she might ignite entirely when he extended a hand to her.
“Need help with your dress?”
