To Wed a Scandalous Spy by Celeste Bradley Page B

as he was by the flickering fire.
    Yet he stopped. With a curse, he shoved the ring back to the bottom of his pack.
    "You'll sleep there," he said brusquely, indicating the bed. "I'll spread a blanket before the fire."
    Then he stalked to the door.
    "Wait!" Willa suddenly didn't mind his presence. Suddenly the strange shoddy room seemed more dangerous without him. "Where are you going? May I come with you?"
    He stopped with his hand on the door. "To the necessary. And no, I'd rather you didn't."
    She subsided, blushing. "Oh. No, of course. That would be—"
    He seemed to relent a bit. "I'll be no more than a moment. Turn the key after I leave if you wish."
    He was being kind again and she was being silly. "I shall be fine," she said gamely. "I'm of age to spend ten minutes in a room alone."
    He only nodded shortly and left her. Willa dutifully restrained herself from locking him out Instead, she spent those suddenly precious moments getting herself ready for bed. A quick swish in the chill water kept in the pitcher on the washstand and into her wedding night gown.
    Just in case. So far Mr. Stonewell didn't seem inclined to claim his marital rights, but that didn't mean she shouldn't expect something of the sort from him.
    The sheer fabric did nothing to keep her from chill and the hearth was only beginning to glow, so Willa slid beneath the thin coverlet on the bed.
    She had to admit a feeling of relief that she needn't share it with anyone. With nothing more than a stretch and a yawn, she felt herself slipping gratefully away into sleep. She hoped Mr. Nathaniel Stonewell would be as comfortable as she was.
    Just before she slid completely off, a single thought crossed her mind.
    This morning, when she'd offered him her hand during the wedding…
    He'd said he had no ring.
5
    « ^ »
     
    Wrapped in his blanket on the hard plank floor before the, fire, Nathaniel wasn't able to rest. It was always worse at night, feeling the weight of his disgrace, the pain of his lost honor excruciatingly memorable in the dark and the quiet.
    Without the busy noise of his day with Miss Trent—Willa—in the quiet his mind began to willfully recount what he had lost. His father disdained him. His family rejected him. His engagement had been dissolved.
    Well, that had turned up a twist, hadn't it? He had a wife at last but, like Peter, Peter Pumpkin-Eater, couldn't keep her.
    The isolation only bit more deeply in the sprightly company of the woman. She simply made him think all the more about what he could never allow himself to have.
    Finally, he slept.
     
    Willa slept restlessly despite her exhaustion. She'd not slept anywhere but her own bed for twelve years. To be sure, her own bed was finer than this one, but still, one would assume that a long day of equestrian exertion would leave one inclined to sleep.
    As she lay there, staring at the cracking plaster ceiling yet again, a soft, low snore emerged from the blanket across the room.
    "I just knew it," Willa muttered.
    She sat up and glared in Mr. Stonewell's direction. One bare, muscular arm was the only thing visible, outflung as it was. The snore subsided after its single foray into the room, but the damage was done. Willa was thinking about what Mr. Stonewell was wearing beneath that blanket.
    She tried to lie back down and erase that wicked thought from her mind.
    No. Not effective at all.
    After a moment of indecision, Willa left her bed and padded silently across the room. If he woke up, she would simply say that she was tending the coals. She knelt next to him and peered into his face. He truly was extraordinarily handsome. She'd often been told she was pretty herself, but Willa had the uneasy feeling that Mr. Stonewell's looks were quite another degree of attractiveness.
    He still smelled good, except that now Moira's homemade soap was added in the mix. Willa didn't mind. It made him smell a bit like home, as well.
    Was the rest of him as fine as his face? She couldn't bear not