Page 2 of Miss Barton's Mysterious Husband
He touched the dripping brim of his hat. “Thank you for your help. I’ll take your advice.”
What else could he do? Titan was close to done in. So was he.
“Aye, right canny. Big place on the left. Can’t miss it. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Roland muttered, the words sticking in his throat.
The man waded off as Roland turned Titan back the way that they’d come. He bent forward to pat his mount’s neck. “You’ll be glad to get into a nice warm stable, old boy. I’m sorry I dragged you through all this.”
Titan must have sensed shelter and food were on offer, because he kicked into a trot rather than the discouraged plod that he’d progressed at for most of the day.
Once Roland reached the Spotted Fox, he wondered how he’d missed it. It was the most substantial building in the hamlet and it blazed with light as night closed in.
A groom rushed out to take Titan. As Roland dismounted, he tossed the lad a shilling. “He’s done good service today. Treat him right, and there’s another shilling in it for you.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Tired, wet, grumpy, he trudged into the inn’s wood-paneled hall. The place was noisy and bustling with activity. Clearly, he wasn’t the only stranded traveler.
A maid emerged to take his wet greatcoat and hat. “Do you have a room available for the night?” he asked, tugging off his leather gloves.
“Sir, we’re that full, I’d have to check with the mistress. We might be able to find you a place in the taproom.”
“More guests, Milly?”
The woman’s voice from further down the corridor turned Roland as motionless as a block of stone. Three years, yet he recognized it from the first word he heard.
“Just a single gentleman, mistress.”
The woman who had spoken came up the hallway and stopped beside Milly.
The last time that Roland saw her, she’d worn a fashionable muslin gown in autumn shades of gold and russet. It irked him that he even remembered the sodding color.
Today, she sported a modest gray frock under a cream linen apron. Her rich red hair was confined in a single plait. Plain clothing didn’t play down her extraordinary beauty. If anything, she blazed brighter in her simple garments.
He couldn’t even pretend that he’d forgotten that beauty. It had haunted him every moment since they’d parted.
When her gaze settled on him, she went as still as he did. Deep green eyes widened in undisguised horror. No question that she remembered him, too.
“Roland…” she said in a choked whisper, as her hands clasped together in front of her.
“Good afternoon, Charmian.” An ironic smile twisted his lips, despite nothing about this situation striking him as funny. He mightn’t be amused, but somewhere a malicious fate was laughing its head off. “How obliging of Father Christmas to arrange for me to spend the holy festival with my wife.”
Chapter 2
Charmian didn’t even pretend to smile. Once, long ago, she’d enjoyed Roland’s wry sense of humor. But once, long ago, she’d thought that they’d be happy together for the rest of their lives.
How did that work out, Charmian Barton?
The maid glanced open-mouthed between the two of them. Milly chattered like a parrot. The news of Miss Barton’s mysterious husband’s arrival would be all over the inn before they started serving dinner. “M-Miss Barton?”
He gave Charmian a sardonic smile that she hadn’t seen before.“Miss?You’ve been living under false pretenses, I see. Not to mention you’ve lost your wedding ring.”
She hid a wince. The immediate numbing shock receded a little. The urge to run and hide faded, too. Stiffening her spine, she told herself that she could hold her own against Roland. She wasn’t wide-eyed and innocent and nineteen anymore. If she was honest, most days she felt as old as the millennium.
Had he come looking for her? She hadn’t had a word from him since they’d separated in York. But the marriage stood. They remained linked for life.
“It never meant much,” she retorted, although she couldn’t stop her fingers curling at her sides with a shame that she shouldn’t feel.
