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His frown deepened. He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, closing it again. Instead, he simply led her by the hand through the stables and back to the inn.
He didn’t accompany her back to her room. He simply kissed her tenderly on the forehead at the end of the hallway.
“I must return downstairs to keep an eye on Baldwin,” he said. “I will make sure they send up a tray with dinner for you and give your excuses to the others.” He hesitated. “Sweet dreams, my beautiful Delia.”
She nodded, leaning into him for a moment, before taking a deep breath and walking back to her room. She didn’t look back.
In her room, she sat on the bed, hugging herself. She should be paralysed with fear. Her secret was out, and there was a man downstairs who was dangerous to her. But all she could feel was gratitude that Ambrose finally knew who she truly was.
She was her genuine self with him, at long last. And that was really something.
Chapter 36
Ambrose walked quickly down the staircase the next day, feeling like he had barely slept a wink. His eyes were gritty as if they were filled with sand. Worry about Delia and getting her safely out of this inn before Jack Baldwin saw her was consuming him.
Last night hadn’t been a problem. Delia had stayed in her room for the entirety, and Baldwin had ended up so in his cups that he probably wouldn’t have recognised his own mother, let alone a runaway lady that he had never met before. One of the barmen had ended up assisting him to his bed. Ambrose could only hope that the man would be nursing such a fierce hangover today that he would sleep in and be very late coming downstairs.
He stopped short as he walked into the main room of the inn. Baldwin was sitting next to the fire. The man gave a jaunty wave when he saw him.
So much for him sleeping half the day away, thought Ambrose grimly.He looks as sprightly as a fox on the scent of a hen.
“Baldwin,” he said, taking a deep breath, sitting opposite the man. “How did you sleep?”
The man grinned. “Like a log. And I feel refreshed and raring to go.”
Ambrose smiled weakly. “I thought you might feel a bit under the weather after how many ales and whiskies you had yesterday.”
“It is water off a duck’s back for me,” said Baldwin briskly. “I don’t even notice it.” He stared out the window. “It seems like we might be in luck today, Hartfield. My coachman says that the storm has abated to such an extent that we will probably all be on the road again by noon. They are clearing the road ahead of snow as we speak.”
Ambrose glanced out the window. He had been so absorbed in his worry over Delia that he hadn’t even checked. But Baldwin was right—the fierce snowfall had lightened significantly, and the wind had died down. It wasn’t howling like a banshee around the inn any longer.
He felt weak with relief. “That is a blessing!”
“It is,” said Baldwin. “I am sure you are itching to get back to Bradford after all your delays. And so am I. Do you want to ditch the public coach and travel in comfort with me?”
Ambrose shook his head. “Thank you for the kind offer, but it will not be long until we get home after this. I will just continue with the public coach.” He smiled. “I have endured it for so long that a little further will not make much difference now.”
Baldwin looked mystified but shrugged his shoulders. “Have it your way. The offer stands if you want it.”
Ambrose nodded. There was simply no way he was going to travel with Baldwin. There was simply no way he was going to leave Delia to travel on her own. She was going to be confused and overwhelmed when they got to Bradford, and he must assist her as much as possible. He was not only worried about her true identity being exposed but how she was going to manage at all once this trip was finally over.
I must leave her, he thought, with a heavy heart.We must say farewell to each other.
He didn’t want to. His blood was still zinging from that fierce encounter with her in the stable last evening. He had been so close to having her that he could taste it. How was he going to walk away from her without ever consummating their quite extraordinary passion?
But it wasn’t just the passion, as overwhelming as it was. The thought of never seeing her again, of even being beside her, filled him with bittersweet sorrow. He loved just being with her, talking with her, matching his wits against hers in a game of chess. The thought of going back to his lonely old life, consumed by work, filled him with dismay. The thought of her absence was already starting to gnaw at him like an ache.
He stared into the flickering flames of the fire. He didn’t want to lose her. But she refused to become his mistress, and he couldn’t marry her. What on earth was he going to do?
***
Delia had just finished doing her hair when she heard the soft knock on the door. She tensed, walking close to it, leaning her face against the wood.
“Who is it?” she whispered, her heart pounding.
“It’s Ambrose. I must speak with you quickly.”
She opened the door a little. He slid inside, closing the door firmly behind him. His dark eyes were shining.
