Page 15 of The Duke of Ruin
He went back toward her and spoke softly. “Don’t.” She turned her head, her blue eyes dark and vivid in the firelight. “We are going to get to know each other much better than we ought, and I don’t want you to regret things you might say. I assumed you would be curious about my wife. Yes, I undressed her. Many times. If I close my eyes, I can still feel her skin.” But he didn’t close his eyes. He couldn’t. She—Miss Diana Kingman—held him captive with her gaze.
Miss Kingman exhaled. “You must promise not to look. Aside from what you must do to unlace my gown.
“I promise.” He kept his voice and his gaze steady. “We must trust each other on this journey. Implicitly. That’s why I won’t shy away from your questions.”
She nodded, then presented her back. “Will you leave while I undress? I’ll need ten minutes or so. I’ll be in bed when you return and will close my eyes while you disrobe.”
It was a good plan, particularly since he thought a walk outside in the cold might do him some good. A beautiful woman’s back presented to him for the purpose of assistance with disrobing was too reminiscent of a time gone by and yet wholly new. Miss Kingman wasn’t Miriam, nor did he want her to be.
Simon quickly unlaced her gown and helped lift it over her head. He laid it across one of the chairs set at a small table and returned to help her remove her petticoat and unlace her corset. When he finished, he dropped his hands to his sides.
“I can finish,” she said, without looking back. “Thank you.”
He left without a word, closing the door firmly behind him. He inhaled sharply, taking perhaps the deepest breath he had in the last ten minutes.
Thankfully he didn’t encounter anyone on his walk. He wasn’t in the mood to made idle chatter. His thoughts were bad enough—railing at him for being attracted to someone who wasn’t his wife.
But how could he expect to go through life as he had the past two years? A self-hating, forlorn monk. Oh, he put on a good face for everyone else, but no one knew how acutely his pain cut. Not even Nick, his closest friend.
Nick. Simon meant to send a note to inform him what had transpired with Miss Kingman. Nick had been concerned for her welfare, as he should be. He’d never meant to cause her trouble or pain, and Simon wanted to put him at ease. Miss Kingman would be fine—if he had anything to do with it. And, fortunately, he did.
Tomorrow, they would be on their way to Northampton, and hopefully, things would go as smoothly as they had so far. Being recognized as Mr. Byrd was a small bump in his plan, but not a threatening one. If they could just continue on this path until he delivered her to Lancashire, all would be well.
But first he had to spend the night in her bed. Again. Only with less clothing.
Thinking it had been well more than ten minutes, he made his way back upstairs. The lantern next to the bed had been extinguished, leaving just the light from the fire to illuminate the room.
Simon looked toward the bed. Miss Kingman lay near the edge of one side—as close as she could get without falling off, he noted—her back to the center of the bed, where it looked as though she’d rolled one of the blankets and placed it between them. He hoped there were enough coverings on the bed to keep them warm. Last night, they’d worn more clothing to bed.
Hell.He wore a nightshirt to sleep in or, most often, nothing at all. Tonight, he should probably keep his smallclothes on.
Shrugging out of his jacket, he hung it on a hook in the wall. He sat down to remove his boots, working as quietly and quickly as possible. When he’d removed everything but his shirt and smallclothes, he went to his side of the bed and crawled between the icy covers. He shuddered involuntarily and felt her jerk.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Cold bed.”
“Very,” she responded, her low, feminine voice rustling over him like a fine silk.
He considered making an offer to warm them both up—body heat would be most beneficial. But that was likely a bad idea. For so many reasons.
He turned to his side, away from her, but snuggled his back against the rolled-up blanket. That would help with the cold. And the warmer he got, the more easily he would fall asleep. And the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he could put the proximity of Miss Kingman out of his mind.
Too bad none of that happened very quickly at all.
Chapter 4
As they nearedthe end of day three of their journey, Diana sent up a silent prayer for a repeat of the accommodations they’d enjoyed last night in Northampton—two beds! After the prior night when they’d shared a bed in Luton and she’d awakened pressed to his side with only the meager rolled-up blanket between them, she’d been incredibly grateful for her own space. She doubted she’d be so fortunate again tonight, but she could hope.
The coach rolled into the yard of the Jolly Goat, and Diana arched her back against the squab.
“You’re an excellent traveler,” Romsey remarked. “You never complain.”
“That’s not something I was ever allowed to do.” She wanted to take the words back because they were too revealing.
“Your upbringing was rather strict.” It wasn’t a question but an observation.
He didn’t know the half of it. “Yes. You don’t complain about traveling either.”
“I travel quite a bit.”
