His Unexpected Bride (7 page)

She laughed. “Then I must risk that peril, because honesty is a habit I do not wish to lose.”

Cameron shifted on the seat, sliding his arm behind her. Again, as when they had spoken last night in the library, he did not touch her. She was glad, because she was unsettled even when he was this close. If he let his fingers drop to curve along her shoulder, she doubted she would be able to form a single logical thought.

“I hope you feel the same after you have spent a fortnight or two in London,” he said with the inkling of a smile.

“A fortnight or two? You think that is all I will need to stay?”

“On that I have no idea.” The smile was gone again. “Mayhap it would be for the best for you to refrain from involving yourself with the
ton
during your sojourn in Town. It would make it simpler for you to leave once our marriage has been brought to a satisfactory end.”

She frowned at him. “Do you intend to keep me imprisoned in your house like a heroine held by some horrible villain in one of those outrageous novels?”

“What do you know of such books?”

“Only what I have read.”

Cameron started to reply, then chuckled. She wished he would laugh more often, because the sound had a spontaneity missing in his other actions. Everything else about him, save for when he had awakened her in her bed, was so sternly controlled.

His hand rose from the back of the cushion to tap the top of her bonnet. “Most honestly, I have to tell you I may be doing society a great favor by shielding them from your sharp wit. I suspect there are wretchedly few among the Polite World who would be prepared to counter your sarcasm with any skill.”

“'Twas not sarcasm, Cameron. Simply the truth.”

“Ah, that honesty again.”

“You would prefer something other than honesty?” She was growing more certain with every passing moment he was the most contradictory man she had ever met.

“I would be foolish to say no, wouldn't I?”

“Would you?”

He leaned his cheek on his hand. With his elbow propped on the back of the cushion, he slanted toward her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes, and her bonnet bumped on the seat. He hooked a single finger under its brim and tipped it aside.

“I would be foolish to let down my guard in any way with you, Tess,” he said, his voice hushed, but penetrating. “You see everything very clearly and without compromise.”

“It is the only way I know.”

“Really?”

Tess edged away as far as she could. “I do not like that question.”

“Why?”

“Because it sounds as if you are accusing me of some misdeed.”

“Not you.”

“Papa?”

Cameron's brows rose, but all suggestion of a smile vanished. “You leaped to that conclusion very quickly, Tess. Do you have a reason for that?”

“You could be speaking only of Papa or me, because I doubt you are discussing Jenette.”

“Who?”

“My abigail.” She glanced over her shoulder, although she could not see the wagon that followed this carriage and carried the servants and luggage. “You do not know her, Cameron, so you must have been speaking of Papa or me.”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to add more. When he continued to look at her as if he expected
her
to reply, she turned to look out the window beside her. She would not sit here and listen to him criticize her father.

A sigh edged through her tight lips. She could not fault Cameron for being furious at Papa, because Cameron must wonder why her father had allowed the wedding ceremony to take place. If she could explain …

But she must not. She had promised Papa she would not reveal the truth to anyone.

She had not guessed how difficult that promise would be to keep.

Tess stretched her arms, holding Heddy's cage with care, as she waited for Cameron to wake Mr. Knox. She had not guessed the man would sleep all day during their journey, save for when they had stopped for their midday meal. If Mr. Knox had been awake, he might have offered some conversation to fill the long miles of silence. Or mayhap it was just as well that he had slept, because she had heard the sharp words exchanged by the two men this morning as she was walking toward the carriage. How she had longed to tell Cameron he should be more than vexed at his friend. Mr. Knox's crime had not been agreeing with her father last night that Tess should come to London. It had been blackmailing her father into arranging the wedding.

Jenette rushed over from where she had been speaking gaily with a tall, skinny man who had been pointed out to Tess as Park, Cameron's valet, when they set out this morning. “Are we staying here, Miss … my lady?” Her gulp was so loud Tess was surprised no one else seemed to hear.

“Yes.” She gave her abigail a tentative smile. How could she blame Jenette for having a hard time adjusting to this sudden change? Again she was taunted by how readily she could set her abigail's mind at ease with the truth, but she had promised Papa to say nothing. Handing the cage to Jenette, she pretended not to notice how her maid grimaced. The hedgehog and Jenette shared an intense dislike for each other, for Jenette was squeamish about the bugs and worms Heddy ate.

“Please make sure our bags are brought promptly to where we are sleeping tonight,” Tess continued. “I am not certain if I shall need to dress for dinner.”

“Will you be eating here?”

“Yes.” She showed no sign of her doubt. Did Cameron intend for them to eat in the public room here? Mayhap he planned on having their evening meal brought on trays.

She had no chance to ask him as he took her arm and guided her toward the inn. Mr. Knox trailed behind, rubbing his eyes and grumbling under his breath. The inn's whitewash had fallen from its timbered front, revealing its age, but the windows were clean and unbroken. Both sounds and odors from the left revealed where the stables were. The wind was coming from the right, so those scents should not fill the inn.

The inside of the inn was not as simple as Tess had suspected. A flowered rug ran along the stone floor, and the wooden floors in the taproom gleamed with care. A vase filled with white and pink blossoms sat on a table covered with an embroidered cloth. A painting of the front of the inn with a coach unloading passengers dressed in the style of a half century before hung on the opposite wall. Other frames were shadowed by the dim light, so she could not discern what was within them.

To the right, a dining room was visible through a partially open door. A stone floor and low rafters offered a welcoming touch. The fire on the hearth eased the chill coming with the end of the day. So many times, she and Papa … and Mama … had lingered at the table in the dining room in the oldest section of the house and watched the fire burn down to embers as they spoke of whatever filled their minds. She was amazed—and saddened—to realize she and Papa had not done that since Mama's death.

“Are you hungry?” Cameron asked.

Tess looked back at him. She should not be unsettled that he seemed to be watching her closely and questioning what she did, because he barely knew her. “Why do you ask?”

“You are staring at the dining room like a child looking at a beloved toy.”

“I am recalling some beloved memories.” She debated whether to share them, for she hoped Cameron would share some insight about his past as well. She halted when a raw-boned woman emerged from the shadows.

The woman smiled broadly, creasing her cheeks, which were unlined despite her gray hair. “Welcome to the Primrose and the Crown. I am Mrs. Hunt. Are you seeking something to eat or a place to rest or both?”

“Supper is what we want first, then two rooms as well as lodging for those accompanying us.”

The woman looked from him to Tess and then on to Mr. Knox. “Two rooms?”

“One for Lady Hawksmoor, and one for the two of us,” Cameron replied smoothly, acting as if he had not seen Mrs. Hunt's curious look.

“Very well.” Mrs. Hunt smiled at Tess. “This way, if you please, my lady.”

“Tess?”

She turned to look at Cameron. “Yes?”

“Do not linger to change for dinner. I think it would be best, if Mrs. Hunt's kitchen can manage it, if we dined as soon as possible.”

Mrs. Hunt replied, “Your dinner can be served at any time.”

“I would like to wash up,” Tess said, not adding she had looked forward to ridding herself of this dusty dress. “Then I shall be back down to join you for dinner.”

“Excellent.” He went to where Mr. Knox was entering the taproom.

Going with Mrs. Hunt up the stairs, Tess was pleased to find the room comfortable, albeit utilitarian. The bed with its high headboard was simple, and a chair, a dressing screen, and a table were the only other pieces of furniture set before the wide hearth. The floor was as clean as those below, and some sort of pattern had been placed upon the wall, although she could not discern it, for the room was shadowed, with only a single candle burning.

Jenette rushed in with word that the bags were on their way up. While Tess cleaned her face and hands with the tepid water in the bowl on the table, a fire was laid on the hearth. She guessed by the time she returned, the damp odor of a room that had not been used in a while would be banished.

She paused only long enough to peek under the cloth of the cage. Heddy was lying on her side, her soft brown underbody contrasting with the spines that grew along her back. Her eyes on either side of her narrow snout were closed, and she was making some sort of snuffling sound, even though she was still asleep. Wanting to reach into the cage and scratch Heddy's belly, Tess did not. She simply smiled and drew the cloth back before going out of the room, glad she had Jenette and the hedgehog as connections with what had been.

Cameron and Mr. Knox were waiting by the door to the dining room when she came back down the stairs. She understood why Cameron had not wanted to delay. The room was already filling with other guests. He must have seen other carriages by the stables.

“Go ahead,” said Mr. Knox. “I will be right with you.” He turned to where a lad was standing by the front door. A flash of coins exchanged hands.

Cameron asked, as if to himself, “What is he doing now? Any polish he has placed on his boots will be ruined before he arrives in Town.”

Tess had no answer as they went into the dining room, with Mr. Knox hurrying after them. A small square table was set aside for them not far from the hearth. Tess was aware of the curious eyes aimed at her as she walked through the room. When Cameron's hand settled over hers on his arm and then tightened, she knew he had seen the stares as well. That they bothered him astonished her, because he was not her true husband to be distressed by the admiration of other men.

Mr. Knox chuckled as Cameron sat Tess so her back was to the room. “You are the envy of every man in the room,” Mr. Knox said as he pulled out a chair on the other side of the table. “You should be grateful to Masterson for saving his pretty daughter for you.”

Cameron drew out the chair across from Tess's. “That is not a topic for dinner, Eustace.”

“Why not?” Mr. Knox leaned both elbows on the table and propped his chin on one hand. “I can think of no better topic for this meal than to speak of your pretty bride.”

“You are going to embarrass Tess.”

She started to smile at Cameron in gratitude, but before she could reply, Mr. Knox laughed and said, “I cannot believe any woman would be embarrassed by a compliment, especially Masterson's daughter. She has been shut away in that country house while Masterson waited for the perfect match for her. Then along you came, my friend, and the marriage was made.”

“I would rather not speak of that.” Cameron's face was calm, but she noted how his hand had closed into a fist on the table.

“Then shall we speak of how glad I am to have Masterson's house behind us?” Mr. Knox smiled up at a maid who set a loaf of bread and some sliced beef on the table. With a wink at her, he added, “The scenery is much more pleasurable here now that we do not have Masterson glowering at us every minute.”

“Papa might not have glowered if …” Tess lowered her eyes from the abrupt shock in Mr. Knox's. How could she so quickly forget the promise made to her father to say nothing about why he had agreed to the wedding?

“If what?” prompted Mr. Knox.

“I have said too much already.” She reached for a slice of bread.

“Too much?” He laughed. “You keep your tongue so firmly behind your teeth that one would think you did not have one. Like a little mouse in a shadowed corner. Your good fortune, old chap.” He snatched several pieces of meat and put them on the plate in front of him. “You do not need a prattling shrew who babbles endlessly and says nothing of value like her father.”

“Eustace, that—”

Tess interrupted Cameron as she scowled at his friend. “Mr. Knox, I would ask you not to speak so of my father when he is not here to defend himself from your scurrilous comments.”

“I am saying nothing here I would not say to his face.”

“Then I shall be as forthright. I find your manners intolerable, Mr. Knox. If it is the way of the
ton
and their hangers-on to so cruelly ridicule decent folks, then I am glad I shall not claim a place among you.”

“Not claim?” Mr. Knox's eyes widened. “As Lady Hawksmoor, you are a part of the very thing you despise.”

“I shall be part of it only as long as—”

“That is enough, Tess,” Cameron said quietly.

She looked at her husband, despising his composed expression. If she had not seen the powerful passions in his eyes when he had pulled her into his arms, she would be able to forgive him now for acting as if he had divested himself of all emotions. Did he hide them because he did not trust them or because he was as disgusted with them as he appeared to be with her at the moment?