Page 51 of The Make-Believe Marriage
“I’m willing to spend a lifetime trying,” he said in earnest.
This is why she was doomed to love him desperately and devotedly for the rest of her days. She gave him a playful poke in the ribs. “Then you may start trying after we eat. I’m starved.”
He laughed and escorted her inside.
Syd watched as Octavian signed them in as Captain and Mrs. Thorne, surprised by the warmth that curled in her belly as the truth struck her. She was his wife, and Octavian wanted to make it a permanent arrangement.
She ought to be leaping for joy.
Well, she was.
But she was also scared to death his good intentions would fail.
This was ironic because Octavian believed she was fearless.
Quite the opposite was true when it came to matters of love.
She quaked inside, her fear was that great she might lose him.
But she smiled at him when he set down the quill pen after inking their names in the register.
“You mentioned you are hungry, Syd. Shall I order supper sent to our room?”
“Would you mind if we ate in the inn’s dining room this evening?” She was now his wife by law and wanted everyone to know she was proud of this fact.
“Dining room it is.” Octavian now turned to the innkeeper. “Is it possible to have a tub brought up to our room straight away? We’ve been on the road since London and are in desperate need of cleaning up.” To make his point, he gave his jacket a light pat. A cloud of dust wafted up from the fabric into the air.
“I’ll have one of my maids freshen yer travel clothes while ye bathe. Aye, Captain Thorne. Won’t be a problem.”
“That was considerate of you, Octavian,” Syd remarked once they were settled in their guest chamber and awaited the tub to be rolled in. It was a cozy room situated above the common room, but the noise did not carry upward from downstairs. The inn was sturdily built and had obviously been around for centuries. However, their quarters were well-appointed but small. Octavian could not turn around without bumping into something because of his size.
“Bollocks,” he muttered, hitting his head on one of the low ceiling beams. The roof had a sharp slope to it, making it impossible for him to stand fully upright other than in the center of the room.
Syd had no problem because she was a full head and shoulders shorter than him. But this did not stop her fromtaking command. “Sit on the bed and let me have a look at your forehead, Octavian.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
“Sit,” she repeated, nudging him lightly onto the bed. It was not very large, which meant they would have to sleep curled against each other. Her heart fluttered, for she looked forward to sleeping beside him as his wife. “Is it the same spot bruised when you fell off Sir Henry’s roof?”
“No, a new spot.” He winced as she gently examined the area. “That other one is fully healed. Do not start fretting again, Syd.”
“Should I not worry about my husband? Especially when I have some medical knowledge and can help ease your pain?” She grabbed a clean cloth beside a basin and ewer filled with fresh water atop their bureau. “Stay seated, Octavian.
She moistened the cloth, then returned to his side to press it gently against his forehead. “Octavian!” She had yet to place it on his brow before he pulled her onto his lap, a big grin on his face. “What are you doing, you big ox?”
“You’ll be more comfortable working on me while seated on my lap.”
She laughed softly, relieved the bump was not all that severe. He would have been moaning and not at all playful if it hurt like blazes. “Fine, but stop grinning at me. What do you find so funny?”
“You called me your husband.” He cast her a devastatingly appealing smile. “I liked it very much.”
“Should I not call you that? This is what you are to me, no matter what happens in the coming year.” He might even be hers forever, if she did not anger him to the point he gave up on her and wanted out of the marriage.
Losing him once she got used to falling asleep every night in his arms would be so hard for her.
Devastating, actually.
He made her feel safe.
