Page 14

That was why she gave in so easily, she told herself.

She nodded.

“Say it,” he urged.

Her voice, when she spoke, was low and husky. Was this growling thing of his catching, like a grippe?

“I understand.”

He nodded. “Good lass.”

Grace wasn’t sure why, but his words made her suck in another breath, this one very different from the gasp she’d given when he’d insulted her so ruthlessly just moments ago. Her eyes darted to the grip on her arm. He followed her gaze, then dropped her, as if he feared that she was the one with some sort of contagion.

She swallowed hard. That had been…strange. She could still feel the place where he’d touched her, like the after effect of grazing a too-hot teapot but withdrawing your hand before you burned.

Her husband ran a hand over his face, the gesture wiping away…whatever that had just been. When he was done, his features were arranged in their usual glower.

“Go back to yer side of the carriage,” he ordered, flicking a dismissive glance in her direction. “We’ve a long ride ahead, so don’t go yammering unless ye’ve got somethin' useful to say.”

Caleb pushed the horses as long as he dared, every mile between himself and London like another small stone being lifted from the weight on his shoulders.

The weight of his wife’s presence was another matter entirely, of course, but he was stuck with that one, so the best he could do was ignore her and hope that her irritable mood would float away like a storm cloud.

Right,he thought mirthlessly.That seems likely.

Even when she’d dozed off periodically during their long, silent day, she’d done so with a distinct air of dissatisfaction.

He mentally puta cheerful wifeon the list of things he didn’t need. If he’d planned to find a wife by seeking a woman who wanted to be married to him, he would have gone to more of those awful balls and tried to be—even the thought made him wince—charming.

But that was not his path, and that was just fine. So he ignored his bride and kept them moving forward, even as her body drooped increasingly with fatigue.

All of which meant that, when they stopped for the night, it was because they had no other choice.

This, in turn, meant that the inn he chose could, at best, be described as serviceable.

Grace, so visibly exhausted that she was practically swaying on her feet, looked up at the place, doubt plainly written on her face.

“Is this where you usually stay when you’re on the road to and from Scotland?” she asked.

He chuckled sarcastically. “Lass, I did most of my travelin’ in the army. We’d’ve counted ourselves lucky if we had a tent. A solid roof over my head? That’s a luxury, ye ken.”

Solidmight be overstating certain parts of the roof, Caleb admitted to himself. But the parts that looked in direst need of repair were over the stables, not the inn proper, so they’d be fine.

Grace let out a heavy breath. When she spoke, it sounded like she already knew the answer.

“So you did not make any advance plans to stay at this particularly inn?”

“I did not,” he confirmed.

“And you did not send word ahead of our arrival?”

“How would I have done that, without knowin’ where we were going to end up?” he asked.

Another heavy breath. “So, how do you know they’ll have room for us?”

“I don’t,” he said simply.

She let out one last long, heavy, resigned sigh. But she did follow him when he headed inside.