Page 20 of Everything But the Earl
“I’m afraid this is the most luxurious of the inns on the route to Caernarfon. But I thought it would be good to stay here on our first night.”
Grace blushed, which was endearing. She had an easy blush, it seemed, her pale skin going pink whenever Owen made even the vaguest of innuendos.
Mrs. Madden came over and her small fleet of helpers soon provided Owen and Grace with roast chicken and beautiful roasted vegetables and potatoes and bread and cheese and ale. Grace ate daintily, but with the enthusiasm of someone who wanted to act more ravenously.
“I will say, my lord, that it surprised me somewhat to be referred to as the Countess of Caernarfon. And I know that this is my title now, but I am not yet used to it.”
“I confess I am still getting used to the fact that I have a wife.”
“I appreciate that this whole situation seems to bewilder you as much as it does me.”
Owen had to smile at that. “Perhaps we should just embrace how odd this feels.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why bother to pretend this is normal when it does not feel normal?”
Grace laughed. “Fair enough.” She ate a bite of chicken. “Everything on this table is delicious.”
“Well, eat up. You may need your energy.”
Grace blushed again.
Once they ate their fill, Mr. Madden appeared again and escorted them to their room. It was on the third floor, which provided them with a view of the Thames. They were just a few minutes’ walk from the university, which had Owen feeling a bit nostalgic for his time there, but right now, he had more immediate concerns.
“That will be all for tonight,” Owen told Madden.
Madden winked. “Of course, my lord.”
Their trunks had been brought up and were situated along one wall. Owen spared a thought for his driver and the footman who were tagging along on the journey; they’d be sleeping at the inn tonight, too, but in a less well-appointed room than this. Owen had allowed his valet to stay behind in London, leaving him to take care of his pregnant wife, so Owen felt a bit like he was traveling with minimal staff. But he was also capable of dressing and undressing himself, and he could hire someone in Caernarfon if he felt it necessary.
He was on his own now, for certain. He looked at his bride, who was taking in the room.
The four-poster bed had fresh linens, there were plush chairs for sitting, an adjacent room with a large bathtub should they decide to bathe in the morning, a table in the corner, a large painting of the university over the table. There was also a privacy screen near where the trunks had been set.
“This is nice,” Grace said.
“Our home for the night.”
She hung her cloak on a hook on the wall. “Well…”
Owen gestured toward the privacy screen. “I suppose this is the awkward bit.”
“Honestly, I would be glad to be no longer wearing these stays.Now I must determine which of the trunks contains my night rail.”
“Yes. I have night clothes somewhere as well, but I do not believe they will be much necessary. Only if you feel more comfortable.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Owen liked that a little edge had crept into her voice. “I could help you out of those stays.”
She raised an eyebrow, which might have been the sexiest thing Owen had ever seen.
*
Grace stood injust her shift, which she was pretty sure was transparent as she stood in front of the room’s fireplace. Owen, it turned out, was delightfully fussy, though, so he was carefully folding each item of his clothing as he took it off. He was down to just his breeches now.
“Owen, look at me.”
