Page 49 of Stolen By the Rakish Duke

Leo gestured toward a modest structure visible through the streaming windows. “The Hare and Hound. Not the accommodation I would have chosen, but necessity leaves us little choice.”

“Any shelter is preferable to drowning in this downpour,” Beatrice replied, gathering her traveling cloak more tightly around her shoulders. “And your horses deserve some rest.”

After they hopped off the carriage, they rushed into the inn.

The common room buzzed with chatter and laughter, travelers huddled over mugs and warm fires, boots squelching on the wet floor. Damp wool clung to their shoulders, and the smell of ale and woodsmoke mixed with the storm that still clung to them.

Outside, rain lashed the windows, but inside, the room throbbed with the ordinary chaos of strangers trapped by the tempest. They moved through it, following the trail of a gentlemanreported heading toward Surrey, each step urgent despite the storm.

Leo approached the innkeeper, a stout man whose florid complexion suggested a liberal sampling of his establishment’s spirits.

“Three rooms for the night,” he requested. “One for myself, one for my wife, and one for my driver.”

The innkeeper’s face tightened, and he spread his hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, My Lord, but there are only two rooms left. One single above the kitchen, and a double at the far end. The storm’s got the place full.”

Beatrice noted the faint tightening of Leo’s jaw, a small sign of displeasure she had come to recognize in their short time together.

“Very well,” Leo conceded after a moment’s consideration. “We shall take both rooms. Prepare the single one for my driver, and the other for my wife and me. Have dinner prepared and sent up to both rooms, along with firewood and additional blankets.”

The innkeeper nodded with evident relief, having clearly anticipated a less accommodating response. “Of course, sir. Right away.”

“One more thing,” Leo added. “Two buckets for bathing—one filled with hot water, the other with ice, if you have it.”

The innkeeper’s eyes widened at the unusual request, but he quickly swallowed his surprise. “As you like, sir. Though I should say, there isn’t much ice, what with the season…”

“Cold water then, directly from the well,” Leo amended. “The colder, the better.”

Their driver accepted the key to the single chamber with murmured thanks before heading upstairs to his room after securing the horses.

Beatrice followed her husband up the narrow staircase, the worn wooden treads creaking beneath their weight. The corridor stretched before them, illuminated by sputtering tallow candles whose uncertain light cast strange shadows over the whitewashed walls. At its end stood the door to their shared room.

Shared. Which meant one bed for both.

The door opened into a modest, neatly kept room. The ‘double’ bed looked barely wide enough for two; Leo’s broad frame would take up most of it.

Beatrice gulped.

“Well,” Leo drawled, slight amusement lacing his voice, “it appears we will be better acquainted here.”

Beatrice opened her mouth to respond, but a knock at the door announced the arrival of a young maid bearing the requested bathing supplies, and the moment was cut short.

The maid entered, her gaze darting between Beatrice and Leo with poorly concealed curiosity as she deposited two wooden buckets—one steaming, the other not—alongside soap, towels, and a folded screen that offered at least the illusion of privacy.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” she asked.

“That will be all,” Leo dismissed her, removing his traveling coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

Once the door clicked shut, Beatrice felt the weight of being alone with him. The storm rattled the windows, rain hammering against the panes, while the small room seemed to shrink around them, the air crackling with tension.

“You should bathe first,” Leo said. “The hot water will cool down, eventually.”

Beatrice felt heat rise to her cheeks at the mere suggestion of being naked in his presence.

“No, thank you,” she managed, her voice more breathless than she had intended. “I am quite comfortable as I am.”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth, transforming his severe features with unexpected warmth. “As you wish. ThoughI should note that the prospect of a cold bath becomes considerably less appealing as the evening progresses.”

When she didn’t budge, he shrugged and went about undressing.