A Worthy Wife(4)

The Black Dog was well groomed. Smaller and less noisy than a regular posting inn, it catered to a more select clientele. The carriage bore no crest, and the pale young female was not one of the earl's usual dashers, but Windham was instantly recognized, of course, and treated like royalty. Better, in fact, for Prinny was known to let his accounts lapse. The Earl of Windham was known for his pleasant manner and open purse.

Aurora was whisked past the public rooms into another world. There were area rugs on top of the carpets. She would have stopped to admire the artwork on the walls, positive most were by painters she recognized from books, except servants lined the hallways. They were ready to unpack her luggage, the innkeeper announced as he bowed her into a parlor nearly the size of Bath's Pump Room.

One of the maids led her to the adjoining bedchamber, which was filled with flowers in vases, fruit in baskets, biscuits on plattersand no Earl of Windham in dishabille, thank goodness. Somehow sharing a lifetime with the gentleman seemed easier than sharing a bedroom. Nibbling on a macaroon, for she had not eaten anything all day except for the peppermint drops, Aurora looked at the selection of books and journals left on the bed tableall the latest from Londonand knew how she'd spend the night. She was trying to decide where to start while the servants brought a copper tub, hot water, warm towels, a tea that could have fed the entire Amateur Naturalists Society, and a message from the earl. He would be pleased with her company at dinner in their sitting room, at nine.

At nine? Many nights, in Bath, if there was no assembly or lecture, the McPhees were abed by nine. She supposed she'd have to get used to Town hours, Aurora realized, along with a great many other thingsbut not tonight.

"Please inform his lordship that I am far too exhausted from the day to be good company," she instructed the messenger. "And the lavish tea will surely satisfy my appetite until breakfast in the morning. And and I bid him good night."

Much relieved, Aurora settled back in her bath, with a book in one hand and a raspberry tart in the other. This business of being a countess wasn't half bad.

When her bags arrived with the newly hired maid from Bath, Aurora donned her new nightrail, the wedding finery that Aunt Thisbe had so painstakingly embroidered for her. The maid would have commented otherwise, and Lud knew there was enough grist for the gossip mills already. Well, Lord Windham would get to see Aunt Thisbe's skill another time, Aurora reflected as she used the footstool to climb onto the enormous canopied bed. She brought the book with her, but did not get much reading done, as she rehearsed the talk she'd have tomorrow on the way to London with his lordship. Her husband. Kenyon. She rolled the name around her tongue like a peppermint drop. It was a nice name, for a nice man. He'd sympathize with her sentiments, Aurora was sure, once she explained that he simply could not expect her to commence certain wifely duties until they knew each other better. He'd know which ones.

Aurora understood that her husband had shared this suite before; from the inn's maidservants' sideways looks, the surprise quickly erased, she understood that none of his previous guests had been such milk-and-water misses. Those women he was wont to entertain might want to share their beds with strangers, but Kenyon hadn't married any of them. She supposed she could study how to be more dashing, more attractive to a top-drawer gentleman like Windham, although that poltroon Podell had not found her lacking. Well, she'd learned Latin and Greek. Surely she could learn about the ways of a husband and wife, given enough time. Given Windham's decidedly attractive looks and heart-melting smile, Aurora doubted she'd need much time at all before she welcomed the intimacies of the marriage bed. Perhaps a month.

Or perhaps not.

Kenyon tapped lightly on the connecting door and then entered Aurora's bedchamber without waiting for her reply. He carried a tray with a bottle and two glasses, and he was wearing a long velvet robe sashed at the waist. Aurora wondered if it was borrowed, or if the earl kept a wardrobe at various inns across the kingdom, for just such occasions. How many such occasions could there have been, unless he had taken a page from Podell's book and had brides stashed around the countryside, too? She swallowed a nervous giggle and lowered her eyes. Goodness, his feet were bare! Aurora could not recall ever seeing a man's naked toes before in her entire life. She shivered to think of what else he was not wearing beneath the velvet robe. She looked at her own hands, as a safer site for her eyes to rest. Her knuckles were white around the book, and her fingers trembled.

Kenyon seemed to be enjoying her inspection, by the devilish grin he flashed her, all white teeth and dimples. "What, cat got your tongue again, my dear? Too bad you found it in the coach, or I would not be so late coming to you. I fell asleep after my bath. My apologies for leaving you alone so long."

"But but I said good night."

"Did you? The maid did not deliver any good night kiss."

"I should hope not!"

He laughed and placed the tray on the bedside table, as if he were planning on staying. "I thought we might chat a bit, get to know each other better, as you suggested in the carriage."

"I was thinking the precise thing. For after breakfast tomorrow. I I was just about to blow out the candle now."

"Were you?" He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to blow out the candle. "If you prefer ?"

"No! Don't do that. You'll need it to to see your way out." She edged away from him across the mattress, which he unfortunately mistook for an invitation to join her on the bed. His weight started to pull her sideways, toward him. Aurora dropped the book and clutched the opposite edge of the mattress.

Windham chose not to notice that his bride was about to fall off the bed altogether in her efforts to put as much distance between them as possible. He busied himself filling the glasses. "I thought we should share a toast to our wedding."

"We already did that in the coach, remember?"

"Ah, but that was wine. This is champagne, specially chilled. Here, you'll enjoy it, I am sure." He brought the glass to her mouth, and the bubbles brushed her lips.

"No, I never"

"Nonsense. It is your wedding night. You can be a little daring." He tipped the glass so she was forced to swallow, then he reached inside his robe and pulled out his quizzing glass on a ribbon around his neck. "I say, what the deuce is that thing crawling across your chest?"

Aurora pulled the covers up, mortified that he'd been staring at her nearly transparent lawn nightgown. "It's a great crested newt, Trituras cristatus . Aunt Thisbe embroidered it there, for luck, don't you know." At his blank look, she added, "A salamander."

"If I recall my mythology, the salamander is the elemental of fire. A fitting emblem for a night of love."

"No, no!" Aurora was horrified to hear her voice squeak like a wood mouse caught in the talons of a hawk. "That is, Aunt Thisbe simply adores newts. It's her specialty, you see."

"She cooks them?"

"Heavens, no. She collects them and studies them, makes sketches for the society's journals and such."

Windham was using his looking glass to study the bow tying her hair in its night braid on her shoulder. Uncomfortable under his gaze, Aurora pursed her lips and pointed to the gold-handled quizzer. "Do you sleep with that dratted thing, too?"

"Only when there is someone to impress," he teased, pulling the ribbon over his head and laying the piece on the nightstand. Somehow, while they were speaking, her glass had gone empty. Windham refilled it and offered it to her again.

"But I am not used to"

"You are not used to being my wife, either. This will help you relax a bit."

Relax? May as well ask that dangling wood mouse to relax. She took the glass rather than have him hold it so close, so close that she could almost taste the wine on his lips. She took a sip to cool her heated thoughts. Then she squeaked again. His lordship was untying the bow of her braid, spreading the wavy blond locks in his hands, combing them smooth with his fingers. "Sh," he whispered, studying his handiwork. "I am only making you more comfortable."

More comfortable? She had never been less comfortable in her life! Aurora took another sip of the champagne, which was quite good, once one got used to the bubbles. With enough moisture, her lips managed to move. "Well, as long as you are here, we might as well have the talk I was saving for the carriage ride tomorrow."

He propped his head on one elbow. " Now you want to talk?"

"We'd better. You see, I have decided that we should not not"

"Not?" Windham drank from his own glass. Aurora could see him laughing at her over the rim.

"Nothaveintimaterelationsuntilweknoweachotherbetter," she said in a rush.

"That's what you decided?"

She nodded, thankful that he understood.

"Odd, I thought matrimony was to be a partnership, not a one-sided affair. Barring that, I always supposed that the husband had some say in his marriage. Perhaps I got that impression from hearing you swear to love, honor, and obey. Just this morning, wasn't it?"

"I said that?"

"Oh, yes. I might not have caught your full name, but I particularly noted the bit about obeying."

Aurora took another swallow. "Then I suppose we could discuss the issues and come to a mutual agreement. That's more equitable, don't you agree?"