“Well, isn’t this lovely!” She walked in further to brush her fingers across a tapestry on the wall. She was taking their detour with such stride that Tristan began to feel embarrassed about his dark mood. “It’s cozy. And people live in a place like this, don’t they?”
“They oft let rooms like this, yes. Typically to bachelors or merchants and such,” Tristan explained while carefully setting down his hat.
Sighing loudly, Verity collapsed on the nearest sofa. “What an exhausting day! I would like to sleep for two days after such a long journey. I pray it will be comfortable someday.”
Recalling his short stint in the carriage, Tristan frowned. She was correct. His backside ached somewhat, though he couldn’t have been in the carriage for more than half an hour.
He pulled out his pocket watch to confirm, unable to imagine being cooped up in there for an hour. Or a day. Or several days.
“Perhaps you can explore new options for improving the carriage,” he muttered. “Once we are in London.”
“Oh, could I?”
He snapped his watch shut. “Some expenses are worth the trouble.”
There was a question in her eyes when he glanced her way. She took a step toward him, and he remembered the feel of her warmth at his side. Many husbands cozied up to their wives on rainy, cold nights like this. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Hewouldn’t.
“I thought—” she started hopefully.
“The hour is late,” Tristan said, though it wasn’t true. “I believe I’ll retire early in my chamber. Do you need anything?”
Slowly stepping back, Verity shook her head. “No, Tristan. I’ll be just fine. Good night.”
It was easier to breathe when he looked away. He gave her a nod and then left, hoping she didn’t notice how quickly he moved to his room.
“Why won’t you simply do as I ask and give me what I want?”Tristan could hear Cassandra’s pitiful plea in the back of his mind.“I am not asking for the world. A few jewels and a few new dresses! You are not poor, are you? Ollie would have told me if your coffers were empty. Why can’t you be like Ollie?”
After his valet left him be, Tristan sat on the edge of his bed and wondered how a man could free himself of his past. He saw the edges between his wives blurring and tried to push them apart.
They were so very different. Weren’t they? They had to be. And yet…
For all the strength he saw in Verity, he couldn’t particularly imagine her screaming at him. She seemed reasonable, not flighty.
He had spent all his life around men. It made women so unfamiliar and strange to him. His friends had always teased him about needing to find a proper lady to have and to hold.
He scoffed. Women were trouble. Eventually, Verity would prove him right. But in the meantime, he rather liked the idea that she might be anything different from Cassandra. She had not fought him too hard on his need for order thus far. Perhaps they could have a few decent years before everything soured.
The following morning, he rose early to face a wet and bright day. He took a long walk to stretch his legs, then returned just as Verity was stepping out to climb into the carriage.
She stopped, confused at the sight of him. “Good morning, Your Grace. Are you aware you have brought a horse?”
He exhaled and wondered if he remembered how to smile. “Yes, I am. In fact, it is your horse.”
Her brow creased as she studied the reins he offered her. Then, he realized that she most likely didn’t bother with those, so he motioned for a stable boy to come and hold them for her.
Still, Verity studied him with more confusion than the excitement he had expected from her.
Perhaps he needed to find another way to apologize. Or would it be a wasted apology?
Tension seized his shoulders as he braced himself for her reaction to whatever slight she might have perceived.
“I’ve never seen this horse before,” Verity said, at last. “Wherever did you… find him? Purchase him?”
He gave a short nod. “Purchased.” Then, he glanced at her maid, who was gawking at him. “Her Grace needs to change into her riding habit. It will be more comfortable than riding in the carriage, will it not?” he added to Verity.
“I would say… yes. But I’m… I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” she whispered, almost like she was shy. He noted her blush and her long eyelashes and tried to concentrate on her words. “If you purchased a horse merely because I noted the prior evening that the carriage was not comfortable, then it was quite unnecessary. I can manage a bit of discomfort.”
“Then you don’t want the horse?”
