Page 39 of Marry in Secret
Ollie poked his head out again and peered around with a hunted expression. “Has she gone?” Assured Mrs. Baines had left, he emerged, fully dressed and almost perfectly groomed.
“Terrifying woman, but does an excellent job.” He picked his hat off the hat stand and said to Thomas, “Tell Baines when you want your breakfast. Mrs. Baines is a fine cook—and Baines will bring it up.”
Thomas sat up. “Aren’t you staying?” He had no desire to be left alone with Rose, especially not in the mood she was. And with him in his underwear and thoughts of “joining giblets” flying around.
“Good lord, no. No desire to play gooseberry.” Ollie ran a hand over his chin. “Going out for a shave. Planning to go in to work early, catch up on a few things. Will eat mybreakfast out. See you this evening.” He gave Thomas a meaningful glance.
Ollie never allowed himself to be shaved by strangers. And he never ate his breakfast out or went in early to work. “There’s no question of playing gooseberry,” Thomas said firmly. “Lady Rose is leaving—”
“But Mrs. Beresford is staying,” Rose put in with a bright smile.
“Quite right,” Ollie said. “You just stay here withyour wife, Thomas. And remember what I said about the purpose of God’s creations. Use your head. And norats in the atticthis time.” On this obscure message, he left.
Rose glanced at the ceiling. “Are there rats in the attic?”
“Yes,” Thomas said curtly. “Close relations of the ones in your cruel guardian’s dungeon basement.”
She giggled. His body tightened at the sound. How often in the past had he imagined hearing her laugh again? A mountain brook burbling through river stones, sunlight dancing on the water. But the reality of it was so much warmer and more enticing.
He stood up—she was too damned close for comfort—and gathered the folds of his blanket more closely, aware that underneath it he was wearing only a pair of drawers and an undershirt. And that he was already half aroused. “What are you doing here, Rose, alone and at such an hour?”
“Here, you need to tuck it in better.” She stepped close and with nimble fingers arranged the blanket around him, knotting a corner over one shoulder, and tucking fabric around his waist. “Like this. It’s a cross between a Scottish kilt and Roman toga. Lily and I used to love playing dress-ups.”
“Leave it.” The touch of her hands, the brush of her fingers against his skin, the scent of her, damp hair and warm, fragrant woman—he couldn’t bear it. He stepped back and said in a stern voice, “You shouldn’t be here, Rose.”
She scanned his face. “You look tired, Thomas. Are you not sleeping well? Is thechaise longueuncomfortable? It’s too short for you—”
“It’s fine.” The truth was he could sleep anywhere. Just not for long. “Why are you here?”
“I had questions,” she said airily. “Is this what a bachelor’s apartment looks like? I must say I expected something a bit more... decadent. This is very neat and nice, isn’t it? But then, Mr. Yelland is quite a particular gentleman, isn’t he? I imagine other bachelors might be more—”
“Rose.” It was a warning.
“Yes, Thomas?” she said in an innocent tone, her wide blue eyes dancing with mischief.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
She batted her eyelashes. “Really, Thomas?”
“I thought we’d agreed, you’d talk to your family and think seriously about accepting an annulment.”
She made a careless gesture. “I talked, I thought and I don’t want an annulment.”
Why could he not make her understand? He wasn’t the man she’d married. If she ever learned what he’d been, what he was now... He was doing this for her own good. He tried again. “Four years ago you married me without a thought for the future, and you ended up in... in limbo. Now you’re being as reckless as ever.” Throwing herself, body and fortune, into the ring, without a thought for the consequences.
“Thomas, I know what I want.”
He shook his head, unconvinced, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You think I haven’t thought about this? I’m not a child, you know. I know that people change. I don’t think it matters, that’s all, not unless we want it to. Is that what you’re saying, Thomas?”
“I think you’re reacting to the situation without consideration of what is practical.”
“Practical!” She snorted. “I was on the verge of marrying for practical reasons when you came back. I want something more than practical now, and I want it with you.”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Oh, will you please stop saying that? Nobody is who other people thinkthey are. Everyone has secrets. And everyone lies.” She walked over to the window and stood staring out over the bleak prospect.
She was right. Everyone had secrets, but some were worse than others. And it was time he shared some of his.
