Page 23 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
“Yes. I suppose we do. Very well.” She took his arm and walked with him to the inn door, and together they approached the innkeeper.
“Mr and Mrs Sheffield, sir,” Edward told him. “We would like a room.”
The old innkeeper with a shiny bald pate atop his head, a pipe stuck between his teeth, grinned at them. “Newlyweds, are you?”
He scrubbed a cloth over the inn’s wooden counter, and Edward nodded.
“Yes, we are, and very happy ones, too,” Arabella spoke in a very cheerful voice, and when Edward turned to look at her, she was already looking up at him, a bright, beautiful smile on her face.
She knew that Edward had never been able to resist that smile, kissing her almost instantly whenever she used it on him. It was one of her favoured tools.
“I—” Edward began, but just as she hoped, he couldn’t seem to find the right words.
She lifted a brow and pursed her lips just as if urging him to speak. His eyes drifted to her mouth, and she wanted to smile again with satisfaction.
“I—um …”
“Just the right room for you,” the innkeeper said with a chuckle, and Edward turned away from her to look at him. The man jingled a key in his pocket. “I’ll have your things sent there.”
“Thank you. Might we eat here in the main room?” Arabella asked while Edward was still looking for speech.
The man shrugged. “Suit yourselves. Find a place you like. Two meals will be coming out, quick-like.”
He winked at them, and Edward grumbled to himself as he led her to a table. She sat first, and he sat across from her, looking frustrated.
“This is a nice inn,” she said nonchalantly, and he nodded.
“Yes. It is a nice change after some of the others.”
She tried to keep her mirth from her eyes as she looked about the full room. Many people looked their way, but as she glanced at them, they turned back to their friends.
“I suppose you ought to begin questioning? I will remain here, prim and proper, like a good, newly-married wife.”
A pint of ale and a glass of wine appeared at their table, and the innkeeper winked at him again. “Lucky lad, aren’t you?” he said before disappearing again.
Arabella put a finger to her lips to keep from laughing when Edward rose with a huff. “Might as well, although you should use your smile on a lot of these gents, and no doubt they will tell you everything they know.”
He turned away from her then, and she watched as he went through to each of the groups of men. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but she could see them shaking their head and then perhaps providing another idea. Gregory was a popular name but not so popular as something like John, so she hoped that with this town, and the less popular name, they would succeed.
When the meals arrived, Edward returned, looking a little dejected. “Well, it seems that no one here knows any Gregorys in Maidstone, but there are a few in the nearby villages.” He removed a small scrap of paper from his pocket and a pencil.
Arabella watched with interest as he scratched down the names and passed them to her. “You seem always prepared with something,” she told him, admiring yet again his readiness at all times.
“Not always,” he said sharply, pulling his plate closer to him and picking up his knife and fork. “Sometimes things happen that you never expect, Arabella.”
And Arabella’s smugness about her earlier victory faded in an instant. She did not reply; instead, she looked over the nearby village names they would visit on the morrow. They ate and drank in silence before treading the stairs to their shared room.
Chapter 25
As Edward lay in the dark with only a thin layer of sheet between them, he realised that perhaps he had taken his revenge already. Arabella was a naturally cheerful person, always smiling and happy, even when there were difficulties. It was one of the things he had fallen in love with. She was kind, even to a person who was not kind to her.
Like myself.
But twice now, he had already made her face fall and her smile diminish with his harsh words, commanding her that they remain silent and then reminding her of the past in such a childish way. When her teasing smile faded so quickly, his gut twisted in pain. He had been the cause of that, and for no other reason than he was hurt by something she’d done four years ago.
What must she think of me now? That I am petulant and babyish, not a man who has gone on to see the world.
But as he wallowed in self-flagellation, he wondered if she, too, was enacting a sort of revenge.That smile.It was the first one he’d seen from her, the first genuine one in the whole of their reacquaintance. And just like he’d felt pity for the postman when faced with it, he also felt pity for himself.
