A Reckless Promise (22 page)

“I think I forgive you,” she said, ripping the slice in half, and then licking a dab of butter from her fingertip.

“Are you certain?” He was doing his best not to smile.

“Probably. As long as you promise to consult with me before doing anything else that affects either Marley or myself. That way, the next time a maid at a country inn addresses me as
my lady
, I won't turn to her with an expression akin to that of a stunned ox, and ask
who
?”

Darby got to his feet, pretending he'd completed the feat only by dint of much effort, and bent down to kiss the top of her head before returning to his chair. “Do I have your kind permission to refer to you as my lady wife once we reach Brighton and secure lodgings for the night in one of the new hotels?”

“Must you?”

“If it will make you feel more comfortable when I ask that our baggage be carried upstairs to a suite for the two of us, yes. Or would you rather I sneaked down the hallway after midnight, to scratch at your door, begging entrance?”

“There is a third option,” Sadie said, stabbing at a slice of ham. “You could ask one of the staff if you might borrow a book of sermons to help lull you to sleep.”

He could hear the teasing in her voice.

“And here I thought we were getting along so swimmingly.”

“Yes, I imagine you did. Poor Lord Nailbourne.”

“Sadie Grace, I was down on my knee when I said I was sorry. Doesn't that count for anything?”

“There was that, wasn't there. Very well, I'll think about it, and give you my answer when we arrive in Brighton. Goodness, isn't this ham delicious? I didn't realize the drive would give me such an appetite. Really, try the ham.”

“Might as well,” Darby said, lifting a bite to his mouth. “It's either that or step out behind the inn and fall on my sword.”

Sadie giggled.

She'd had her say, and now she felt in control of herself again, and his equal. Strangely, he didn't mind that at all. He might even glory in the notion.

“I have to ask you,” he said as they continued their meal. “That day in the coach, driving in from the cottage. What did Norton tell Marley about the reason behind the red hair and painted mustache and beard? Last night he informed me that he is a true traveling thespian—his words, not mine—and that he employs both in his various roles. But if you knew he was a traveling player, you never told me.”

“I never told you that because he never said anything of the kind until he mentioned it yesterday in the park. He regaled Marley with a rather long, convoluted tale about his travels through the wilds of India with a maharaja, and their strange encounter with a redheaded snake that—”

Darby held up his fork, motioning for her to stop. “I withdraw the question. Moreover, I regret the question.”

“Don't worry that Marley believed him. She just thinks he's wonderfully silly.”

“That wouldn't quite be my description. But since we're
discussing
things now, my soon-to-be wife, what do you say to the notion that, come the spring, we provide Norton and his thespian compatriots with a fully equipped traveling wagon and send them out into the countryside to edify the masses?”

“Why, I believe I'd say
huzzah
to that, my soon-to-be husband. I also would not be opposed to having him visit Marley when he is able, if you're of the same mind.”

“Agreed. That was simple enough. I believe I can become used to this new, shared responsibility. Now, as to our accommodations tonight in Brighton?”

“Ah, you see, my lord, not every decision can be shared, and I do believe this one is mine, although I will say I'm feeling...much in charity with you at the moment. More ham?”

The remainder of the journey to Brighton was spent
mutually
planning what they'd do once they'd located Sam Dobson, and it was only when Darby entered the lobby of the hotel he'd chosen after giving instructions to his tiger about the stabling of the horses that he was greeted by a bowing servant who said, “Lady Nailbourne awaits you in your suite, my lord. If you'll step this way...”

Step? Darby was hard-pressed not to
skip
!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S
ADIE
STOOD
AT
the windows overlooking the street, and the sight of the Prince Regent's Pavilion.

She'd expected more, or perhaps less.

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Hamilton,” Darby drawled from behind her.

She'd heard him enter the large drawing room, but she'd decided that he would come to her, and not the other way around. She'd already come more than halfway, hadn't she?

And why was she keeping score? For two people who had so recently been...intimate, there remained a noticeable
divide
between them. It seemed so strange, to be so near, physically and even as declared friends, and yet still so far apart.

She could verbally spar with him, laugh with him, even confide in him, but she still couldn't be completely at ease with him. There were times she had to search for topics in order to avoid what might be an awkward silence, at least on her part. There were times she didn't know if he was serious or joking. She was comfortable with him on many levels, yes, but she wasn't comfortable being with him. She couldn't just be, not when she still had to concentrate on
being
.

She couldn't explain what she felt, not even to herself.

Something remained between them, something she couldn't sense or touch. It was
there
,
and it shouldn't be. An invisible barrier that needed to come down. And since she'd told him her innermost secrets, perhaps the barrier was on his side. Nobody was as happy as Darby appeared to be, so satisfied with life and his place in it. She knew there was more to him, but even when she thought he was serious, he somehow managed to turn that moment into a joke of sorts, often directed at himself. Was that who he was, or was he still keeping a part of himself from her, perhaps from everyone, even his closest friends?

Or could she simply be a silly female looking for a declaration of love? Would those three words bridge the invisible gap, take down that last wall? It seemed ludicrous. After all, they were only words. Deeds had to count for something.

So now, once again, she searched for something to say. Prinney's palace seemed a safe enough topic.

“I didn't realize the palace wasn't a fully accomplished fact. I thought His Royal Highness has been visiting Brighton for many years.”

He joined her at the window.

“He has, which is why we're standing in this grand new hotel, and why you'll see several new buildings as we head to Sam Dobson's place of residence. Society goes where Prinney goes. He began with a small cottage, but then realized it didn't suit his idea of a royal residence. He's been adding to it ever since, both in land and additions, hence the scaffolding and swarms of busy ants crawling all over the structure. But some of it is complete. What do you think of the dome? Sixty feet high if it's a foot, and miraculously standing without incident, which many vowed it would not thanks to the glass roof.”

“I think it's amazingly delicate for all its size, nearly fairylike. So that's where His Royal Highness resides now when he's here?”

Darby laughed. “No, Sadie, that large dome rises above the royal stables. His horses are housed there, at a cost to the crown of more than fifty thousand pounds. God only knows what the rest will look like, or cost, before he's done. You can already see the minarets that are completed, with many more of different heights and shapes still in progress.”

She turned to him in disgust, her earlier thoughts flown to the winds. “Fifty thousand pounds? Many of our soldiers are barely existing, consigned to the streets, and his horses live in
that
? Fifty thousand pounds?”

“What would you do with fifty thousand pounds, Sadie Grace? Granted, that's a lot of money, but certainly not enough to fix a broken world.”

“No, it wouldn't.” Sadie gave the question serious thought, because his had been a serious question, and then sighed. “It's not quite so easy, is it?”

“Definitely beyond the power of sprinkled magic glitter and a few
begone
s, yes. I could give away my entire fortune, and the gesture would barely make a splash in the ocean of wrongs plaguing society.”

“You're right, of course,” Sadie said, pulling the drapes shut over the sight of the enormous cupola, although nothing could block out the sounds of a hundred hammers. “There's so much wrong with this world, Darby, so much that's larger than all of us and makes our own worries seem small and petty. I feel completely
powerless
, and I can't begin to tell you how frustrating that is to me.”

“I think I have some idea how you feel. My shame is that there are good men wandering the streets out there, men I led into battle, men who willingly followed me into harm's way, ready to die for king and country. Prinney is a fool, and probably shouldn't be expected to behave as anything more than a fool. But damn it, where is my excuse for turning a blind eye to those men who gave so much? And no,” he said, smiling weakly, “that was not intended as a pun. I'm serious, Sadie. And not to be trite about it, you've made me see more with one eye than I ever did with two. I'm humbled, as well as ashamed.”

“I don't know what to say to that,” Sadie told him honestly. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“It was time someone did. Tossing a coin to a beggar on the street is not sufficient. Returning soldiers, be they able to work or not, are never evicted from my estates, and their widows are not booted out of their homes. Taking care of mine own, that's one of the duties of a landowner, a viscount. I've allowed myself to be soothed into thinking it was enough.”

“It is more than many have done,” Sadie told him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is it? I have a seat in the House of Lords, you know. A seat I rarely occupy, a seat I've never risen from except to add an occasional halfhearted,
‘Here, here!'
to what someone else has said. I've decided it's time for me to make my maiden speech, and probably lose a few friends in the process. It's time the Crown paid more than Prinney's outrageous debts.”

“Are you certain you want to do that? I wouldn't care to think I...I goaded you into anything.”

Now Darby did smile. “Madam, I pride myself in never being goaded into anything. All right, save for the night Gabe threatened to tell everyone I was a coward if I didn't steal the headmaster's top hat and stick it on the head of the dry grocer's horse. I had to cut a pair of holes in it, you understand, to fit over the nag's ears. Both of us were sent down for the remainder of the term, by the way. Rather than return to the cottage and face Camy, I traveled home with Gabe. Vivien and Basil were there, so the only lecture we received was one from Basil on how not to get caught when doing something one shouldn't do where one shouldn't be doing it. I'll spare you the examples he cited. Suffice it to say, much of my early education in certain subjects came by way of Basil and Vivien.”

By this time Sadie had collapsed in giggles on one of the comfortably overstuffed couches. Definitely there were parts of Darby she would never wish to see change. “You're never serious for long, are you? I don't think you can help yourself.”

“Probably not. I've never really thought about it.” There was a knock at the door. “Ah, and that should be heralding the arrival of hot water for our baths. You have an hour, Sadie, and then we go in search of Sam Dobson. Here's a thought. We could save time by sharing a tub.”

“I'm ignoring that,” she said as a half dozen servants carrying pails of hot water entered the large room, half of them heading for the bedchamber to the right, the others to the bedchamber on the left.

Behind them came a manservant and a maid in a crisp white apron and cap, the maid curtsying before saying, “My name is Bettyann. If you'll be so kind as to follow me, my lady?”

“Yes, thank you.” A bath and clean clothing sounded splendid after their long, dusty drive. Although it did give her stomach a small turn as she watched Darby heading off behind the manservant, already stripping off his neck cloth and actually giving it a quick wave above his head. She highly doubted he was employing it as a white flag of surrender.

Honestly. That man.

In only a few minutes, he would be naked in his tub and she would be similarly devoid of clothing in her own, with only thirty feet or less and two closed doors between them.

It was enough to give an unmarried woman pause—or, unwisely, another bout of the giggles. As Lady Nailbourne, however, she could only lift her chin and follow after the maid while at the same time attempting to follow Darby's lead—by trying not to be serious
all the time
.

The door had barely closed behind the servants and their now-empty pails before Sadie began stripping out of her gown as Bettyann set out soap and towels, as well as a lovely white robe that would cover a person head to toe. Well, most people, as Sadie felt certain the hem would only fall somewhere above her ankles.

A random thought entered her head: with both of them so tall, would their children all be tall, as well? This was followed by a panicked thought: could she already be carrying Darby's child? And if not yet, perhaps by the end of the day?

Now is not the time for such thoughts,
she told herself,
even if you do understand the reproductive process. You're still too new at the first part of it, even as you seek to broaden your education.

“I can manage my bath on my own, Bettyann,” she said nervously, still quickly working at her buttons. “If you'd just see if the yellow gown and its blue redingote are reasonably free of wrinkles—I imagine they'll do with just a good shaking out—you may return to your other duties.”

The maid made short work out of locating the items in Sadie's small portmanteau. “I'll take these right off downstairs and give them a good pressing. But, my lady—I'm to assist you in your bath, as well.”

Sadie could hear Clarice's warnings about
place
ringing in her ears. “And I'm certain you would do so admirably. However, His Lordship has indicated that he will most probably be joining me shortly.”

The maid cocked her head and looked at Sadie owlishly.

Sadie grasped at the only straw she could think of: “We...we're very recently married.”

“But I—oh. Yes, my lady,” Bettyann said, her brown eyes growing wide. “I'll be taking myself off right this minute, and then return these to the sitting room so as not to...to disturb my lord, that is.”

She curtsied her way out of the room, and then probably ran all the way back to the kitchens to report on the randy couple occupying one of the suites and bound to be splashing tub water all over the carpets for her to sop up later.

Oh, that man! He could embarrass her even when he wasn't present.

Sadie stepped into the tub, gritting her teeth as she settled into the hot water. She reached for the soap and a cloth, and made quick work out of soaping and rinsing herself. She'd had long practice at bathing in two minutes or less, thanks to both the small, uncomfortable tub at the infirmary and the fact that she was forced to bathe in the kitchens, in front of the only fireplace they'd ever kept fully stoked in the wintertime.

For all her haste, she was only just pulling tight the sash of the toweling robe when she heard the
snick
of the latch being depressed, and turned about to see Darby standing there, clad in a similar robe and, clearly, nothing else save for the fairly wicked smile on his face.

Well, at least this time there would be fewer “practical matters that must be addressed.”
It's also possible I've been spending too much time around Vivien and Clarice...

“And here I'd hoped to arrive in time to help wash your back. What did you do with Bettyann? Toss her out the nearest window?”

Sadie clasped the lapels of the robe close against her breasts. “She's very young. I didn't feel I needed to add to her education.”

“She could probably add to yours,” he countered amicably, advancing on Sadie even as she retreated, never taking her eyes off him. “You look lovely, Sadie. Fresh, and dare I say
dewy
, rosy warm from your bath, a few enticing damp golden tendrils caressing that long, slim throat.”

He put out his hand and touched the side of that throat, employing his fingertips to trace small circles against the sensitive skin just behind her ear. “You like that. I've noticed.”

She closed her eyes as she allowed her head to tip slightly, giving him more access, sighing as he bent to press a kiss against her skin, lightly suck at her earlobe before running the tip of his tongue down the side of her throat. New, yet amazingly already familiar feelings dared to all but snatch her breath away.

“Do...do we really have time for this?”

“For what, Sadie Grace? Why, whatever do you have in mind?”

“Me? It wasn't me—I—who suggested we bathe together.”

“Oh, you took that as an invitation to seduction, did you?” he teased, his hands now on her shoulders as he employed his thumbs to lightly knead at the skin below her collarbones.

“You...you came in here without knocking, wearing nothing beneath that robe.”

“Only to find you similarly clad, or should I say similarly
en déshabille
. Should we call that a happy coincidence?”

He was slowly driving her insane, and he knew it. She'd already told him that she was more than ready to let someone else take the lead after so many years of having to make every decision on her own. And she certainly couldn't have taken the lead the other day at the cottage, because she had no idea where she was going, now did she?

But that was then, and this was now.

She wasn't the same person now as she had been then. That wasn't precisely his
fault
, but she felt it only fair to warn him.