The poor cat. Booted from its sleeping spot!
The duke sneezed again, the sound echoing in the small room.
Rosilee chuckled softly and stepped to her designated bed, eyeing its creaky frame. It seemed hardly adequate, even for her slight form. She sat down gingerly, testing its sturdiness. The bed gave a loud groan but held.
Well, it could have been far worse than this.
“Not so ba—” She was cut off by a sudden loud creak from the bed. Without warning, the legs gave way with a startling crash, sending her sprawling onto the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows.
“Good heavens!” Rosilee exclaimed. She lay there for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling, before laughing into the stunned silence that followed. She had never experienced anything so embarrassing in her life!
At least I can still laugh.Leopold would definitely owe her after this!
A curse, then footsteps, and the duke’s alarmed face came into view. “Are you all right?” he asked, reaching out to help her.
“I am.” Rosilee slipped her hand in his, his heat seeping into her skin as his fingers curled around hers. He helped her up, and she quickly brushed off her skirts. How utterly... utterly...
She cleared her throat and glanced at the ruined bed. “Well, there is still the mattress, I suppose.”
The duke turned to the remaining bed, his face a picture of resignation.
“It seems we’ll all have to share a bed,” Mr. Bishop said with a dramatic sigh.
That would be a bit . . .
“Shut your mouth,” the duke snapped. To her, he said, with those solemn green eyes flashing, “This is ridiculous. You cannot sleep on only a mattress.”
What else was there to do? They could not all sleep in one bed. That was positively scandalous!Really, Rosilee? This is where you draw the line at scandalous?“The alternative is to return to my original room.”
“That won’t work either.”
“The carriage?” The seats were plush and comfortable.
“No.” He pointed at the bed. “You take the main bed.”
Rosilee crossed her arms. “I don’t think so. I have no qualms at sleeping on a mattress on the floor. I won’t be able to get any margin of sleep otherwise.”
“The lady wins,” Mr. Bishop said.
Rosilee’s gaze shifted between the stubborn expressions of the two men. The duke’s jaw was set, a determined glint in his eyes, while Mr. Bishop leaned against the door with a lazy grin. The man was clearly enjoying the unfolding drama.
“Ridiculous,” the duke repeated in a mutter.
He looked ready to argue further but seemed to think better of it when Rosilee raised a brow. Honestly, she had a mattress, pillow, and blanket. She didn’t need more.
With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “Very well, if that’s your choice.”
She smiled. “I assure you, I’ll be perfectly comfortable.”
“Yes, comfortable,” the duke echoed. He rubbed his nose, sniffing. “We will all be splendidly comfortable tonight.”
“We’ve all had worse nights, I’m sure,” she countered at his put-out tone. “We shall have to pray that the rain stops and that we can leave before Baston.”
“That may not be the best way, my lady,” Ben said.
Rosilee glanced at him. “Why not?”
“I overheard him curse the rain. He must be impatient to leave. Why not let him leave and follow behind him while he is only looking forward, and not back?”
