Page 15 of Tamed By her Duke

The place wasn’t crowded, though this came as no surprise. Despite being located along one of the main routes north, the inn was so far distant from any major town or city that it couldn’t see too much traffic. Most travelers would either pass by here earlyenough that they’d move long to the next village or would stop before they got to this long, dark stretch of road.

A middle-aged barkeep stood behind a rough-hewn counter, swiping at a glass with a rag that looked clean, if worn. Her eyes brightened with avaricious gleam when she took in the entering couple. Even if she looked highly rumpled after the long carriage ride, Grace in her wedding finery spoke clearly of money.

“How can I help ye, m’lord, my lady?” she asked. Something in Caleb unclenched at the sound of her accent. She wasn’t Scottish, of course, nor even properly Northern. They weren’t far enough along their journey for that. But her rough tones were a far cry from the plummy, rounded vowels of London aristocrats, so they felt like music to Caleb’s ears.

“Two rooms, with supper and a bath sent up to each, if ye have it,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the counter.

He felt the slight shift in Grace’s posture beside him when he requested two rooms, though he didn’t know if the movement made him want to laugh or frown. Hehadtold her he’d married her so she could give him children, it was true, but she couldn’t expect him to chuck her down like a bag of flour on the first lumpy, straw tick mattress they came across, could he?

But perhaps she did. Perhaps she even had been amenable to the idea. That’s how highborn lasses got themselves marred reputations, wasn’t it? Showing liberality with their affections?

The barkeep’s eyes also flashed between Caleb and his wife, but she was too eager for their coin to do more than give the quickest of glances.

“Sure enough, my lord, I can do that for ye,” she said, nodding. “I’ll have my girl up to aid your lady to, then, aye?”

“Aye,” he agreed. This time he felt no conflicting emotions about Grace’s bristling. Oh, mayhap she’d carp and moan about him being high-handed, but providing was his job as her husband—the real job, not the flowery stuff about caring and comforting and all that. Also, he didn’t think she’d have luck getting out of that contraption of a dress without some assistance.

“Right then,” the woman said. She stuck her head through a doorway behind the bar and hollered, “Mary!” She quoted Caleb a frankly outlandish price, which he paid without arguing, though internally he thought this was what he got, traveling with a woman who was so clearly Quality.

“Mary will show ye upstairs, then,” she said, smiling as she quickly pocketed the coin.

Mary was young, perhaps fourteen, with a long red braid that trailed down her back. Still, she was as professional as any longstanding servant—likely the owners’ daughter who had grown up working around the inn, Caleb gathered.

She led them up a narrow, crooked hallway, with only three rooms. The first one was already occupied, judging by the thunderous snores that came from within. The next one, sheopened for Caleb. It was a small, neat space. Like the barkeep’s rag below, everything was worn but clean.

“This one is for you, my lord,” she said politely, bobbing a curtsey. “I’ll bring yer meal along shortly, then m’brothers will haul up the bathwater when ye’re ready.”

Caleb thanked her and tipped her with a shilling, which made a bright, delighted smile flicker across her face.

Grace was already moving further down the hallway by the time Mary closed the door behind her with another murmured thanks. Caleb found that he was equally annoyed with and impressed by the little chit’s backbone. She was no shrinking flower, that was for sure.

Still, he thought as he stretched his back, the movement working out kinks from the long carriage ride, she would see that for all her boldness,hewas the one in charge of matters between them.

Oh yes. He would make sure she saw that very clearly indeed.

CHAPTER 5

Chewing on the end of one’s braid was the habit of a naughty child, Grace knew, but as she sat and waited on the low bed in that remote inn, she was extremely tempted to do so.

Was she supposed to just…sit here?

It shouldn’t be such an onerous task, just sitting, but she was tired, and it was making her impatient. She had a full belly, courtesy of the hearty, well spiced meal that Mary had brought up to her rooms, and the warm bath had been nothing short of heavenly after a long day in a constricting gown.

There had been red marks on her ribs from where her stays had been cinched too tightly. The maids in her father’s household had been well trained to privilege fashion over comfort, when it came to dressing the Duchess of Graham and her daughter. Grace had grown accustomed to it, and scarcely noticed it much of the time, but today’s endless carriage ride had not been her typical day.

She wanted tosleep. But it was her wedding night, so she gathered that she was supposed to do…something.

Well, she knew what she was supposed to doeventually. For all that her person had gone unharmed during her period of captivity, her sensibilities had been hardened by all she’d seen and heard.

Not only did the Packards kept animals, which were prone to, ahem, animalistic behavior, but Mr. and Mrs. Packard’s bedchamber had been directly above the little closet where they’d locked Grace each night. She’d…heard things, though she still shuddered to think about it. She didn’t know which part she’d hated the most, the unpleasant grunting sounds or the theatrical praises that Mrs. Packard had heaped upon her husband’s, um, manly attributes.

Grace frowned, wishing Mary and her brothers hadn’t taken away the bathwater. Maybe there was a way to scour one’s memories clean, if one tried hard enough.

Still, she knew—mostly from the dazed, happy glances that her friends often gave their husbands—that notallmarital relations were the stuff of nightmares. She was optimistically determined to give her new husband the benefit of the doubt, not that he had done a single thing to earn it thus far into their marriage.

With each passing minute, she felt he’d earned it even less. Of all the rude things to do, making her wait for him—after the long day they’d had—was the rudest of all.

She’d had enough, she decided, rising to her feet with a huff. She threw open the door to her small room and marched down the hall to her husband’s chamber, knocking smartly on the door and notstoppingknocking until he yanked the door open with a glare.

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