Page 39 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish

“I’m very sorry,” she said, “but we do not have a second bedchamber we can offer. I was hoping I could arrange something, but, alas, it is not possible tonight.”

Perry’s gut clenched with something that was neither excitement nor dread but something in between. Were they going to have to share a bed?

Was it pathetic that he hoped they did?

“The best I can do is a larger bedchamber with a smaller one just off it. It’s really for a guest and their servant, and the servant’s room only has quite a small truckle bed, I’m afraid.”

“No need to apologise, ma’am,” Perry said. “We’ll manage very well.” He turned to Jonny. “I’ll take the smaller room—I can sleep most anywhere.”

“It sounds as though the truckle bed may be more appropriate for my build,” Jonny replied. “But we can argue over that later.” Turning to Mrs. Gardiner, he said, “Thank you, ma’am. Will you let me know when my friends arrive?”

“I will indeed, sir. And dinner can be served whenever you would like. Your friends booked my largest parlour for the evening, and I feel sure you will find our dishes quite up to the mark.”

“They did mention that your cook has an excellent reputation,” Jonny replied.

Mrs. Gardiner inclined her head modestly. “My husband is the cook. We both worked in the household of Lord Adlington before we married and took over the inn.”

“Ah,” Jonny said, “In that case, we’ll look forward to it all the more, won’t we, Peregrine?”

Jonny turned to Perry, and his smile was so wide and dazzling that, for a moment, Perry couldn’t speak. He blinked, then said, somewhat belatedly, “Yes, you know how much I love my food.” He patted his stomach, and Mrs. Gardiner smiled indulgently.

“Well,” she said. “We will do our best to satisfy you. Now, I’ll have Jim take your luggage up to your rooms while you finish your cake and wine, and then Daisy will show you up. Will you be wanting hot water for a bath?”

Perry glanced at Jonny, his heart suddenly hammering. Would they have to bathe in front of one another, he wondered?

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Jonny said. “One feels so grubby after a long journey.”

As Mrs. Gardiner withdrew from the parlour, Perry wondered how Jonny could possibly feel grubby. He looked as immaculate as when they’d first set out this morning. The only one of them who appeared travel-worn was Perry, his boots muddy from jumping in and out of the curricle multiple times and his hair all windblown from driving without his hat on.

Not that he minded. He had enjoyed today. Not just for the driving, which he always liked, but because he had been taking care of Jonny, getting him where he needed to be and keeping him comfortable and happy as they got there. He’d liked feeling useful. And he’d liked justbeingwith Jonny. Jonny made Perry laugh—and he made him think too, with his lively mind that leapt between every subject under the sum. He always seemed interested in what Perry had to say about whatever they were talking about, and he never put down anything Perry said, even if he disagreed—which he did often.

At length, Daisy, the maidservant, returned to lead them upstairs. They followed her up two flights of steps, down a short corridor, and into a sizeable bedchamber with a large and comfortable-looking bed.

The maid crossed the floor to a wooden door on the other side of the bed, which she opened to reveal a much smaller room with a modest truckle bed inside.

“This is the room-off,” she said. “I’ve made up the bed, but it is quite small, I’m afraid.” She eyed Perry’s bulk doubtfully.

Jonny thanked her and handed her a couple of coins, which she slipped into her apron pocket before dropping them both a curtsey and hurrying away.

Once the door was closed, Jonny wandered over to peer inside the tiny room-off. He began to giggle. “Oh my word,” he said helplessly. “It’s barely large enough for a child, Peregrine. Look! Nether of us will be able to sleep in that thing. We’ll have to share the big bed, don’t you think?”

Perry’s heart began to hammer as he walked over to join Jonny. It really was a very small bed, and he stared at it in dismay—suddenly, the thought of having to share the larger bed was terrifying. How was he to lie beside Jonny without getting a cockstand? What if he rolled over in his sleep and began to rut on the man? Right now, he felt so primed and ready to go, it would only take Jonny accidentally brushing against his cock to have his seed erupting like a lava from a volcano. A panicky feeling began to churn inside him.

“I daresay we’ll, ah, manage something,” he said vaguely. “In the meantime, why don't I give you some peace and quiet for a while?”

“What?” Jonny glanced at him, seeming surprised.

“I’ll leave you in peace for a bit,” Perry said, heading for the door. “So you can bathe in private.”

“But where are you going?” Jonny asked, confusion plain on his face.

“I—er—I thought I’d take a walk around. I like to get my bearings when I go anywhere new. And perhaps I’ll stop in at a tap room for a couple of tankards of ale to wash the road dust out of my mouth.” He smiled at Jonny as he began backing away. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Before Jonny could say another word, he was off, bolting back downstairs and heading for the front door.

* * *

When Perry got back to the Fighting Cock, two and half hours later, he was even more dishevelled and, if not entirely foxed, certainly a trifle disguised. He’d walked a good couple of miles into the middle of Reading, made some dubious new friends, and consumed rather too much ale in too short a time at a busy tavern before heading back.