The Fallen Woman (A Regency Romance) (22 page)

Mary frowned, a bit saddened at how quickly Bess lost interest in her. But she was, after all, just
the maid, and hardly worthy of a proper introduction.

When Andrew caught a glimpse of the pained expression on Mary’s face, he cleared his throat. “A-actually, Miss Hudgeons… Mary is my guest.”

“Guest? What?”

Tristan and Leona looked just as puzzled as she did.

“Well, I…”

When Andrew couldn’t explain himself quickly enough, Bess said, “I was of the understanding that Tristan was going to bring his wife, a friend, and his wife’s maid. Was I wrong?”

“No, you weren’t wrong!” Andrew clarified.

“This isn’t some sort of courtesan, is it?” Bess asked, turning a dubious eye on Mary. “You didn’t bring your mistress with you, did you? I wouldn’t put it past you, young sir. That was always the sort of man you were, but don’t think I can permit that kind of thing inside my--”

“No!” Andrew interrupted with a nervous chuckle. “N-no, Mary is, in fact, Leona’s maid. But I also consider her to be a guest. A friend.”

Tristan clutched his head and sighed. He knew about Andrew’s burgeoning feelings for the maid, but did he really need to complicate the situation? If he’d bothered to look at Mary, Andrew might have seen how she hated to be the center of attention. The poor maid looked like she wanted to hide in the grass until they were done talking about her.

“That is certainly… interesting,” Bess said, her face softening a bit. “And what is your friend’s name?”

“I’m… Mary… and… I’m sorry… to cause you trouble.” Mary lowered her eyes as she spoke.

“Trouble? What trouble? And for what reason are you apologizing, dear?” Bess said. “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I mistook you for something you’re not. Of course, this does pose a bit of a problem. I’ve arranged rooms for the others, but I’d intended to have you share a room with one of my maids.”

“That would be quite alright, ma’am,” Mary insisted. “I am more of a maid than a guest, regardless of what Mr. Lamb says.”

Leona spoke up. “But it’s true that Mary is our friend as well… at least, she’s my friend.”

“And mine!” Andrew exclaimed.

“Well, anyway…” Aunt Bess started down the path toward the house, which wound through a quintessential English garden. “Follow me, then. I’d like to show you the inside of the house. How long has it been since you’ve been here, Tristan?”

“About two years.”

“It’s a shame. You know I miss you so much when you’re away,” Bess said, looking at them over her shoulder as they headed down the path. “Is it true that you’re… well… not feeling well?”

“That’s an interesting way to put it, Aunt. I’m feeling fine, actually. Unfortunately, I’m not so fine on the inside.”

“Oh…” When they approached the cottage, a tall woman with a red, round face opened the door for them. “Oh, Mary. This is Molly, one of my maids. As I was saying, I was hoping you could… share a room with Molly? The house is smaller on the inside than it looks on the outside, I’m afraid.”

The maids exchanged quivering smiles. Mary thought Molly looked like the sort of woman who would run after stray cats with a rolling pin in her hand. Behind her smile, she looked somewhat unpleasant. “It really is quite alright,” Mary repeated. Andrew gave her a nudge, but she gently pushed him away.

“Well, I suppose the house is a bit bigger than I’m letting on. I could have another room prepared,” said Bess. “I really didn’t realize I would need to prepare more than two.”

Leona’s brain halted on one word in particular. “Two…?” she repeated.

“Yes, two,” Bess answered with a nod. “One for Mr. Lamb, and one for you and your husband, of course.”

Leona and Tristan exchanged glances. Neither of them said as word as they stepped into the house, but they were thinking the same thing.

It would be their first time sharing a bedroom.

Chapter Twenty Six

“Are you sure you’ll be alright, my lady?”

“I’m fine, Mary,” Leona insisted. She was sitting on the bed in her nightgown, watching Mary pace the floor. “You know, you can call me by my name, if you’d like. After everything we’ve been through together, I wouldn’t mind. I was telling the truth when I called you a friend. You’re probably my only friend…”

Which was true. Leona left behind so many friends in London, but they were part of a different life.

“Then… Leona,” Mary corrected herself, “Are you
really
okay with sharing a room with Lord Randall? I know he’s your husband, but you haven’t known him very long, and considering how upset you were a few days ago, I can’t help but worry about how uncomfortable this must be for you!”

“I don’t think it’ll be all that uncomfortable,” Leona said with a shrug. “Tristan is a gentleman, after all.”

Sometimes she wished he
wasn’t
such a gentleman. Although, it wasn’t as if she expected him to show much of an interest in being intimate with her now that he knew her secrets.

“I’m not afraid of Miss Hudgeons. If you’d like, I can go to her and tell her you’re not accustomed to sharing a room with him. I don’t know why she would have assumed you didn’t have separate rooms to begin with…”

“Mary,
please
! Enough about the bedroom situation!” Leona said with a sigh. “It might be a bit awkward… at first. But it might bring us closer together. Who knows? Anyway…”

When her mistress didn’t continue Mary’s forehead furled. “Anyway… what?” She had a feeling the conversation was about to venture to a place she’d rather not visit.

“You and Andrew!” Leona exclaimed. “Something’s going on. Why haven’t you told me?!”

“What? N-no. Nothing’s going on!”

“He made a point to say you were a
guest
, not a maid. Do you know what that tells me?”

Mary stopped pacing beside the window and touched the curtains. “She said she had the rooms prepared, but they’re actually a bit dusty. Tomorrow, I should--”

“Mary!” Leona interrupted. “Don’t try to change the subject! I think my husband’s friend harbors feelings for you. Have you any proof of this?”

“I’m sure you couldn't be more wrong. He said I was ghastly, remember?”

“Maybe he’s changed his mind?”

“I highly doubt one’s opinion could change so drastically.”

“So, he hasn’t said anything to you?” Leona asked. “He hasn’t… confessed his feelings, or anything of the sort?”

“No,” Mary shook her head. “Well… maybe… just a bit. But if he’s done any flirting, it’s only because he sees me as sport. He likes a challenge, and he needs a way to pass the time.”

Leona thoughtfully tapped her chin. “I wouldn’t be so sure…”

“I don’t want to entertain false hopes where Mr. Lamb is concerned!” Mary walked to Leona’s bed and sat on the end of it. If she was going to be forced to talk about Andrew, she wanted to express her feelings with conviction. “No… I hope for nothing with Mr. Lamb! I don’t even like him. He’s a rake and a cad, and he hasn’t a single concern for anyone but himself. I’ve never met a man so vain… it’s strange to think he’d be friends with the viscount. Lord Randall is so kind and thoughtful, and Andrew is anything but!”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself not to like him.”

“I don’t need convincing!” Mary shouted. It was the first time she’d ever raised her voice to Leona. “I really, really don’t like him, and I wish he’d leave me alone! His actions toward me are nothing but predatory. I will not be one of his conquests!”

Leona’s eyes widened. Mary was usually so prim and soft-spoken. She had never heard her maid speak so emphatically about anything. Regardless of what Mary said, it was obvious Andrew was having some effect on her. “Well… we don’t have to discuss him any more, if you don’t want to.”

“He’s rude and uncouth, he doesn’t think about what he says, and he talks too freely about
all
the women who adore him,” Mary went on with a roll of her eyes. “One almost pities the London women, to think they’d fall for his sweet words. There’s no substance behind anything he says. I don’t think he’s ever said anything interesting!”

“Mm-hmm,” Leona murmured to show she was still listening.

“I can’t believe I ever thought he was handsome. I don’t think he could get any woman to fall for him if he didn’t have that face.”

“You really dislike him that much?”

Mary paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as if she really had to ponder that question.

And she would never have to answer it, because a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

“That must be him! It’s Lord Randall!” Mary exclaimed, leaping off of Leona’s bed. “Are you sure you’re alright with being…. alone with him?”

An image of herself in the same bed as Tristan flashed in her mind, and she almost shook her head. “Y…yes,” she answered tentatively.

Mary went to the door and opened it, and it was indeed Tristan on the other side. “Good evening, Mary,” he said with a smile, looking over the maid’s shoulder at Leona. “May I come in?”

Mary stepped aside. “Of course, my lord. It
is
your room.” She took one last look at Leona and stepped through the doorway. “Well… I guess I’ll excuse myself now.” She hurried out of the room, leaving Leona with her husband.

Tristan closed the door and approached the bed, where Leona was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest. She was peeking at him over one of the pillows. “You look adorable,” he said.

“Oh, surely not!” Leona laughed, tossing the pillow over her shoulder. “Well, this is a surprise, isn’t it?”

“A surprise?”

“Sharing a room with you,” Leona said. “I… I guess I wasn’t expecting it. Although… I don’t know why I didn’t expect it. Just because we have our separate quarters at home doesn’t mean everyone should assume we do. After all, you
are
my husband, and it’s not out of the ordinary for husbands to share their beds with their wives, is it? Just because it’s not something we do…”

Tristan sat down on the end of the bed and chuckled. “Do I detect some nervous rambling?”

“I’m not nervous? Why should I be nervous? Just because we haven’t shared a bed before… just because I haven’t spent the night sleeping next to someone… that doesn’t mean I’m not… um… open to the possibility. I like you very much, Tristan. I suppose I would’ve been a lot more uncomfortable if this was, say… the day of our wedding. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I have no reason to feel nervous about sharing a bed with you. Do I?”

“You
are
rambling!” Tristan accused, and a crooked smile tilted his lips. “You know, my dear, if you’re not comfortable with this situation, I can get some spare blankets and sleep on the floor.”

“No!” Leona gasped. “You can’t do that! I could never have you sleep on the floor!” As she watched him take of his boots, shrug off his greatcoat and untie his cravat, she swore she could hear her head buzzing. She wondered if he’d be removing any more clothing after that. She didn’t know much about men. She had no idea what they slept in—or if they slept in anything at all!

Tristan pulled down the blankets on the opposite side of the bed and hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Uh…. Uh-huh,” she nodded.

He slipped into bed beside her. “You can blow out your candle whenever you’re ready.”

“You’re going to bed already?” she asked.

“Sure. I’d like to start the day early tomorrow. I want to take you to York for some sightseeing… if that’s alright with you.”

“Well, yes… of course it is. It sounds nice.” She captured her bottom lip between her teeth and murmured something inaudible.

“Is something bothering you? Something besides the fact that I’m in your bed right now?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Um… no…” She couldn’t even stand to look in his direction. She was afraid he’d be able to read her thoughts if he got a good look at her face, as he seemed to have a gift for reading her mind. In truth, she was a little disappointed he was so eager to sleep. She wasn’t surprised—but disappointed. She was hoping a thought of intimacy might have crossed his mind, but it apparently hadn’t. Leona couldn’t blame him for not wanting to touch her, though. She wondered if he ever would. “Well, actually… I was wondering if you were planning on wearing those clothes to bed.”

“I thought about removing the shirt, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable!
She wanted to shout those words at him, but courage failed her.

“Not to mention, the sight of all the fur on my chest would probably give you nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” she laughed. “It would be more liable to give me dreams… of the naughty variety.”

“Oh!” With a chuckle, he sat up in bed. “Oh, really?”

Leona grabbed the candle on the nightstand, blew out the light, and sunk beneath her covers. “Goodnight, Tristan,” she said.

“Goodnight.” His smile was wasted in the darkness.

Leona spent the next twenty minutes trying to quell her thoughts. Her mind was too aware of his closeness to let her sleep. She thought she felt him move beside her, so she whispered, “…Tristan?”