“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me.”
She let out a sigh. “So far the only men who have shown an interest in me are utterly unsuitable, like Rupert.” She shuddered, and went completely still when David gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
“On behalf of all men, I apologize that you were ever introduced to that bas— blighter.”
She patted his left hand again while she attempted to regain her equilibrium. “Or older men, widowers who want a mother figure for their children. Perhaps I’ve read too many folk tales where the stepmother was not a nice person or was not treated well.” Remembering the conversation with Georgia and Clarissa, she quickly added, “It does work out sometimes. Your sister Diana seems happy. But the way my life has gone so far, I would not wager on it.”
“What will you do, then? Move to Jamaica with your aunt and uncle rather than go back to your cousin?”
She shook her head, in part to rub her cheek against his chest. “Find work at another school. The positive aspect of being a spinster is that I’ve reached majority status. If I can support myself, I do not need to rely on a male relative. I’ve already sent out several letters in response to help wanted advertisements.”
Thinking of the three replies she’d received so far, all rejections, perhaps she would have another swig of the port wine to help swallow her disappointment and frustration. But to reach it she’d have to move from her comfy spot on David’s chest. This was so nice, leaning against his big strong body. She could go to sleep right here, with his arm wrapped around her. Between his warmth and that of the fire, she didn’t even need a blanket. “What about you? Do you think you’ll find a match before the end of the Season?”
“No. I’m never going to marry.”
She lifted her head to look at his face. “Why? That’s—”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about passing on the title. My cousin can inherit it.”
“But don’t you want a wife?” Such a shame. Somebody should have the pleasure of cuddling with him like this. Hear him, no,feelhim sing.
“And have my bride recoil in horror on our wedding night when she spies these mismatched, deformed pins?” He pointed at his knees. “No, thank you. I decided a long time ago that was an experience I could go my whole life without.”
Resting her palm on his chest, she searched his face. He seemed resigned rather than sad or angry. “Wouldn’t she know about them beforehand? Even if you two weren’t … intimate … before the wedding?” She felt her cheeks flush. “It’s hard to keep a secret. Even though you think your mother didn’t know, there are people who do. Your tailor, cobbler, Gilroy. And Westbrook must know, too. Those men would certainly keep your confidence, but what about the fellows you went to school with? There’s precious little privacy in a school dormitory. How can you possibly expect them all to keep quiet?”
“Blackmail.”
He said it with such calm conviction, so matter-of-factly, she was startled into letting out a giggle.
“Everyone has secrets, Ashley.” With a fingertip he smoothed a loose strand of hair away from her face.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, until she was resting her cheek on his chest again. He slouched into the corner of the sofa, pulling her with him. She snuggled against him and tucked her feet up on the sofa cushion. “I wonder what Lord Fairfax’s secret is.”
“He’s actually a soprano.”
Ashley giggled again.
* * *
Sally shook her awake. “I’m sorry miss, but you asked me to make sure you were awake by now.”
Ashley’s eyes flew open. With a guilty start she looked down, relieved there was nothing on the sofa with her except her blanket and pillow. A quick glance confirmed that Ravencroft was asleep in her bed. Apparently he’d slipped out from under her and gone to bed after covering her with the blanket.
She sat up, too quickly, and held her pounding head. Only by great effort did she refrain from groaning. Just how much had she had to drink last night? She held her hands to her flaming cheeks. Had she actually fallen asleep on Ravencroft?
“Do you want me to request a tray be brought up here?”
Ashley stood up. “No, I need to go eat with my aunt. Can’t have her coming in here to check on me.” The mere idea of food made her stomach roil. Perhaps she could bring most of it upstairs for Ravencroft.
She was dressed and just about ready to go downstairs when Ravencroft rolled over in bed and apparently bumped his arm, as he let out a startled oath and clutched his hand to his chest. He panted, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut.
Sally and Maggie had already taken the dirty laundry downstairs, so Ashley gave him a cup of willow bark tea and whiskey. “Do you need anything else before I leave?” His hair was mussed and whisker stubble darkened his cheeks again. It took great effort to resist the urge to run her fingers through his hair.
He shook his head and gave her back the empty cup before lying back with a groan.
She considered mixing a cup for herself to help with her headache but decided against it. Leave the whiskey for Ravencroft. She updated the paper with the time he’d been given a dose and went down to breakfast.
When she returned, carrying her cup of chocolate in addition to two soft-boiled eggs in her pockets, Maggie and Sally were fussing with garments on the drying rack in front of the fireplace.
