“You’ll even be able to straighten out your legs tonight,” she said.
“The very lap of luxury, this.” He settled himself on a pillow, closed his eyes, and let the air slowly leave his lungs. They could make this work.
The bed shifted a little. Citrusy pine hung quite unexpectedly in the air around him. An instant later, he felt the tickle of hair brushing against his face and neck, then the lightest of kisses pressed to his cheek.
“Thank you, Charlie,” Artemis said.
Again, everything shifted. He opened one eye and looked in her direction. She resettled on her side, facing away from him, then blew out the candle.
It was for the best the room was dark. Otherwise, she would have seen the heat he felt stealing up his neck. He was both a little embarrassed and pleased as a peacock.
He had done something right. He, the brother who was forever in scrapes, who seemed to always need rescuing and correcting and scolding, had done something so right that he’d earned a sweet gesture of gratitude.
A few minutes might have passed, perhaps a few hours, but he was still quite awake when the door to the room creaked open.
“Charlie.” Artemis’s worried whisper surprised him. He’d assumed she was asleep. Her worries over the embarrassment awaiting them should the state of things be discovered was even greater than he’d realized.
“Don’t fret, Artie,” he whispered in return.
He slipped a little closer and set an arm over her, atop the blanket that he’d laid across them both. His arm would be visible to the proprietress as she stepped in. They would appear to be a couple quite comfortable together, sleeping soundly with none of the awkwardness they actually faced.
The proprietress slipped inside and quickly and quietly retrieved the tray. With expertise borne of years of experience, she pulled the door closed even with her hands full, leaving Charlie and Artemis alone once more.
Into the silence left behind, Artemis spoke in a quiet and somewhat broken voice. “You must think me utterly pathetic.”
“Not at all,” he said.
“But worrying so much over being whispered about.” He felt her take a shaky breath. “Society’s Ice Queen is meant to be above such concerns.”
“Perhaps.” He held her a little closer. “But Artemis Jonquil is a human being, and she is permitted to have worries and uncertainties.”
“What of Charlie Jonquil? Does he have any of those human frailties?”
“At the moment, Charlie Jonquil is feeling absolutely superhuman.”
His arm shook with her light chuckle. “My hero,” she said in a singsong voice.
He laughed along with her. It was a light and tender and comfortable moment between them, one made even more welcome by its rarity.
This was progress. This was hope. Perhaps he wasn’t destined to make a mull of his entire life after all.
Chapter Fifteen
Artemis didn’t know what tomake of Charlie Jonquil. They’d been mortal enemies for nearly two years, picking at each other, disliking each other, resenting each other. That had grown ever more pointed in the weeks since they’d been forced to marry. But during their journey to Nottinghamshire, he’d been sweet and patient, accommodating, and thoughtful. Of course, they had agreed beforehand to play the role of a caring couple. Perhaps he was simply as talented a performer as she had learned to be over the years. He’d certainly shown himself a remarkable mimic.
But he’d been kind even when they’d been alone in the inn the night before. There’d been no one around in need of fooling. He’d been sweet and funny, and he’d made her feel at ease in a situation that could have been terribly uncomfortable. She liked the Charlie she’d spent time with in that pokey little room. He’d been very like the Charlie who’d played games at Brier Hill. Who’d listened as she’d spoken of her father. Who’d softly touched her hair. She’d been more herself with him in those moments than she had been with almost anyone else, and he hadn’t been repulsed or rejecting.
How tempting it was to snatch at that thread of hope, but she’d had far too many snap over the years to trust it.
She’d still not made sense of it all by the time they arrived at Lampton Park. The Jonquils were known to be a tight-knit and fiercely loyal family. Their loyalty to one another was legendary. And she had shattered all the hopes of their youngest brother. She hadn’t the first idea how she would be received.
Charlie had grown quieter as they’d drawn closer to his family home. He seemed as uneasy as she.
“I’m a little nervous,” she said as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the imposing house.
He let out a slow breath. “So am I.”
They’d seen each other through the awkward discomfort of the inns on the journey here; they would support each other through this as well. Heaven knew the effort wouldn’t be perfect, neither would the facade they meant to present, but it was something.
