Page 34 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
Violet suckled at her lower lip then drew Edna in close. “I did not want to burden you with packing when things are so difficult for you already.”
“But, Aunt Mary—”
“Edna,” Violet snapped, her cheeks flushing as pink as her traveling coat. “Do not look a gift horse in the mouth. I taught you better.”
The two women ambled their way into the inn, Edna feeling a little reproved andveryconfused. The establishment was hardly one frequented by women of their caliber. It was pretty in a run-down sort of way, the tapestry bubbling at the crowning. And it smelled overwhelmingly like dust and wax from the floorboards. In fact, everythingfeltdusted and waxy as they came to settle at a counter in the hallway.
Violet smacked a small bell over and over until, at last, a woman appeared. The place can’t have been all bad if a woman was manning the ship.
“Finally,” Violet sighed as though they had not been standing there for a minute but for a decade. “I sent word along with a…messenger,” she stammered. “We have booked two of your,” she looked around and added with less conviction, “finest rooms.”
The woman, whose bosom was fit to overspill from her brown linen dress, beamed eagerly. “I’ve reserved just the thing, Miladies,” she said with an accent that had no place in Plumich. “The boys have gone along with your bags. Doors three and four on your left as you head up the stairs.” She dropped a key in Violet’s hand, who held it between two fingers and away from her as though it carried the plague with it.
She yanked Edna’s free hand and dragged her up a creaking staircase. It was no wider than a bathtub, and Edna had no idea how it was not full of holes.
“Why are we hurrying?” Edna asked as Violet increased her gait. She almost tripped over the navy-blue hem of her pelisse, and then, the sound of a door closing on the upper floor almost spooked her out of her skin. “Godmother—”
Edna was paying so much attention to her feet, making sure she did not trip over, that she didn’t even realize when they were before their rooms. Violet leaned back against the first door. “You said before that you trusted me with your life, and it is a calling I take very seriously indeed.”
Edna laughed incredulously. “What is all this about?” But something in Violet’s expression was frightful. “What has happened?”
Violet didn’t say a word. She merely forced a smile and cracked open the door.
* * *
Albert really hadn’t meant to pry. But Edna and her godmother had been so loud in their arrival that he could not help but watch them as they alighted their coach. His heart pinched in surprised relief as he caught sight of Edna, hopping off the coach step to be immediately accosted by Violet. He hid himself a little further behind the thin embroidered curtains which smelled like old straw, and he waited.
She looked even more lovely than he remembered for their time apart. He could not believe Violet had actually done it. He followed them from above as they rushed into the inn, and he cracked open the door to their adjoining rooms, so he might listen in to their conversation. But all he could hear was the vicious ringing of a bell. It sent nervous ripples all up and down his spine.
“There is nothing to be nervous about,” he whispered to himself in consolation. “You are simply to tell her the truth. Whatever it is.”
He heard them make for the stairs, and he closed the door a little too loudly. It slammed shut in the draught. And then, before he even had time to check himself over in the warped hanging mirror, the door began to open. And she was there. And she wasgorgeous.
“Miss Worthington,” he breathed, but Edna looked as though she doubted she was awake. “I am so glad to see you.”
She turned to Lady Rees. “You tricked me.”
Violet blanched. “I may have misled you, yes.”
Albert had to stick his tongue against his cheek to stop himself from laughing. The admission was preposterous. But anything funny about the situation died between them as Edna looked at him. “You asked her to do this, didn’t you?”
“Look,” Albert began, bringing his hands in prayer before him, but Edna cut him off.
“Why should I listen to a word you say? Why should I listen to either of you? It seems I am the only one here I can trust. The only one here capable of speaking with any honesty.”
Albert cocked a dark brow. “Is that so?” he asked playfully, and Edna quieted. He took the opportunity to speak more. “It is true. I asked Lady Rees to bring you to me so that we might talk.”
“About what? There is nothing you can say to restore your honor in my eyes. Nothing at all.”
The two of them locked gazes for what felt like forever, trapped in a battle of wills. But Lady Rees soon put an end to it, puffing out her cheeks and turning on her heel. “I shall give you a moment,” she said with a knowing glance to Albert. “Play nicely, children.” And then she was gone, clicking the door behind her. Edna turned to follow.
“Wait!” Albert cried, darting toward her. He grabbed her hand. “Please, hear me out. We’ve come this far.”
Edna let out a ferocious sigh and yanked her hand away. “I do not want to hear whatever speech you have prepared for me. We began this,” she searched for a word, “mistaketo serve the both of us as equals. But it seems to me it simply isn’t working. We have not shaken off your father. We have not convinced anyone of anything. We are no longer playing at love—”
“What?” Albert quieted, and the things he had wanted to say to her flew out of the window.
“What?” Edna echoed.
