That look on his face made her really angry. His amused eyes caught hers and Emma shivered in awareness.
Stop, stop, stop. She chastised herself silently. Do not think of him that way. The arrogant arse…what game was he playing with her? She wished Bella or Amelia was here to help her sort out the confusing feelings spiraling around inside her body and mind. Because when she looked at Thomas as he was now, relaxed, unintimidating––not duke-like––her heart thrummed inside her chest and her hands itched to explore him.
Emma ran her tongue across her lips, remembering his taste on them. Her nipples tightened and her breasts tingled and to her shock and mortification, she felt moist heat between her legs.
Emma knew if Thomas suddenly tried to consummate their marriage, right here in the coach, she would not stop him. In fact, part of her wished he would. Then the decision tearing her apart would be resolved. The braking of the carriage jostled her on the seat, and she fell forward into Thomas’s lap.
“Excuse me, I must have fallen asleep. Are we here?” Emma asked, a little breathless at the close proximity of his body.
Thomas helped her back into her seat, then opened the trap to the front of the carriage. “Giles, please reserve a room for the duchess and her maid.”
Moments later his valet came back. “Your Grace, the room is ready.”
“Perfect.” Thomas climbed down from the carriage, turned back to Emma, and offered his arm to assist her. The minute she touched his hand, despite the fact they both wore gloves, something powerful sizzled and sparked inside her.
Once inside the Saddle Back Inn, the proprietor showed them into a private room off the dining hall and sat them down at a table already laden with hot food. The smell of roasted venison stew and fresh baked bread caused her stomach to growl and her mouth to water. Traveling always brought on her appetite.
Thomas seated her, then sat down opposite and proceeded to eat his stew.
“This looks lovely.” She forgot she was not talking to him.
They ate in silence after that until their bowls were spotless. They wiped up the gravy with their bread. Thomas finished off two pints of ale, and she drank two cups of warm tea.
The proprietor’s wife, a plump middle-aged woman with a warm smile, showed them to one small room up the stairs and down a dark narrow hallway. Emma noted there was one large bed, a nightstand and a chamber pot tucked none too discreetly behind a tattered screen in the corner.
“That will be all, ma’am. Thank you.” Thomas dismissed the wife of the proprietor.
The woman bobbed her head, and in the process, strands of gray hair threatened to dislodge from her cap. “Your Grace.”
Emma waited while Thomas checked every inch of the room, tested the feather mattress, and made sure the water in the washstand was clean as well as the towels. At least that is what she thought he was doing.
A blush heated her cheeks. Were his plans to share the room and bed?
“I will send your maid up with your things.” Thomas bowed a perfectly turned out bow and grinned. “If you require nothing else, I will bid you goodnight, Your Grace.”
Stunned, she stood there with her mouth open. “Where will you spend the night?”
His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. “I have decided to bed down with the flea-ridden animals in the barn.”
Before Emma could respond he left the room, closing the door behind him. Then it swung open and he poked his head inside. “One more thing. Keep this door locked at all times. You never know what riffraff could be lurking about.”
What did Thomas mean by riffraff? Did he think to frighten her? Well, she would not be frightened by him or anyone else. A few moments later a sharp knock at the closed door startled Emma, and she had to cover her mouth to hide her scream. Damn Thomas for putting fear into her.
“Yes?”
“It is Rosie, Your Grace. I have your things.”
“One moment.” Emma unlocked the door and let her maid in.
After her maid helped Emma out of her traveling clothes and into her nightshift, Emma sank down on the soft bed and Rosie brushed out her hair.
When she was finished, Rosie placed the brush on the nightstand and made up a pallet on the floor.
Emma sank under the coverlet. She was determined not to feel guilty that Thomas, like a common servant, bedded down with vermin in the barn. Thoughts of him kept her from sleep long after the bedside candle burned out. With her visions of them in bed together and Thomas’s large hands doing magical things to her body, warmth spread throughout her insides. She tossed and turned.
***
The proprietor’s wife showed Thomas to his room right next door to Emma’s. And if she thought it strange that this husband and wife were not sharing a room, she made no mention of it. The last thing he needed was the gossips getting word of their separate sleeping arrangements so soon after the wedding. The extra coins he paid would buy her silence.