The Runaway Duchess (13 page)

Read The Runaway Duchess Online

Authors: Jillian Eaton

And
yet, even though it was still raining and the sky was still booming with the
sound of thunder she felt completely at ease in Gavin’s arms, as though she
were a tiny bird that had finally managed to find its nest amidst the storm.
“You could not carry me back to London.” She felt as much as heard his chuckle,
and it roused a sleepy smile from her lips. “What is so amusing?”

“I
could say the sky is blue and you would argue it was bright orange, wouldn’t
you?”

“Well,
sometimes it is… bright orange,” she said with a yawn. “At sunset it turns
orange and pink and purple.”

“You
need to rest.” Carefully combing her hair back from her forehead, Gavin pressed
a soft kiss upon her temple. “There will be plenty of time to disagree with me
in the morning.”

Charlotte
did not want to fall asleep. She was loath to give up control, especially when
so many things still needed to be done. But she was so very tired… and so very
comfortable… that when she closed her eyes for only a moment, sleep came
instantly.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

 

 

Charlotte
woke to a great weight across her chest.

For
one fleeting, panic stricken moment she thought she was back in the carriage
pinned beneath Tabitha before she remembered Gavin’s daring rescue and then…
and then nothing.

Blinking
several times to clear her sleep blurred vision, she did a quick study of her
surroundings. She was in a small, sun filled room that boasted plain white
walls, a single wash basin in one corner, and a wooden chair in the other.
Recalling what Gavin had said last night about the inn, she realized she must
be in one of the rooms, although she had no recollection of arriving.

Turning
her head to the side, she could not quite contain the startled yelp of surprise
that burst past her lips when she saw what – or, to be more accurate,
who

was sprawled next to her in the narrow bed.  

Gavin
slept like a man dead.

It
was his arm and leg that held her place, thrown haphazardly across her body as
though they belonged there. His face was turned away and buried in a white
pillow. From this angle she could just make out the neat line of stitches
running across the cut at his temple. He must have also bathed, for his dark
hair gleamed in the morning light and his skin smelled faintly of pine with a
small, lingering trace of lemon.

Her
nostrils flaring ever-so-slightly, Charlotte allowed her gaze to wander down
the length of his naked torso, her eyes lingering on the hard lines that
comprised his abdomen before curiosity led her all the way to a narrow trail of
black hair… Her gaze jerked back to his face as her cheeks burned crimson.
Gavin was
completely
nude. Gavin was
completely
nude lying next
to
her
! Heavens.

At
once the room felt much too warm. She reached down for the blanket that was
tangled between them and attempted to pull it up and over her husband’s hips,
but the edge was caught beneath him and try and she might she could not pull it
free. 

“Bullocks,”
she cursed under her breath.

Now
what?

Taking
care to keep her eyes averted from area of his anatomy in particular, Charlotte
began to ease herself out from underneath his arm… but with a murmur and a sigh
he simply splayed his hand flat across her belly and pulled her closer to him.
She rolled neatly into the crook of his body as though they were made to fit;
two puzzle pieces locking together. At least
she
was fully clothed in a
modest blue nightgown trimmed with white lace. How she had changed out of her
rain soaked dress was a mystery, although she would be willing to bet quite
highly it had something to do with the man currently holding her hostage.

Perhaps…
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt anything to stay like this for a while. After all,
he
was the one holding onto
her
. And he did smell so nice.

“You
feel so soft,” he murmured. He turned his head and nuzzled the side of her
neck, his bristle of whiskers brushing against her sensitive flesh as he
burrowed his face into her sea of tangled curls. “Amanda…” he sighed.

Every
muscle in Charlotte’s entire body went rigid.

Amanda
?

Who
the bloody hell was Amanda?!

It
was bad enough he had the audacity to crawl into bed with her naked as the day
he was born after he specifically said he wanted nothing to do with her! But to
do that and then have the nerve to call her by another woman’s name? The man
was a pig! An ill mannered, disgusting, loathsome pig.

“Get
off me, you brute!” she demanded, twisting to the side while simultaneously
striking out at his bare chest with both fists.

Gavin
grunted and opened his eyes. He blinked and squinted before focusing on her
with absolute bewilderment. “Charlotte?” he said in disbelief. “I… What are you
doing here?”

She
didn’t bother with a response. Flexing her knee, she brought it up between
their bodies as hard as she could. Gavin curled up like a boiled shrimp and she
flung herself off the side of the mattress, landing hard on her feet with a
muffled
thump
.

“Son
of a… bitch,” he wheezed, glaring daggers at her. “What the hell did you do
that for?”

Scurrying
to the window, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest and said, “Cover
yourself, please.”

“I
asked you a question.”

But
after being mistaken for some trollop, Charlotte was not in the mood to answer
any of Gavin’s questions, and her raised eyebrow and haughtily pursed lips told
him as much.

With
a muffled curse hen slowly unwound his body, sat up against the wooden
headboard, and dragged the blanket up to his waist. “There,” he snapped. “Are
you satisfied now?”

“Where
are we?”

His
expression still thunderous, he growled, “You would do better to ask where my
bollocks are after your knee shoved them—”

“Stop,”
she said hastily. “Just answer my question. I – I did not mean to strike you in
that particular area of your body.”

“The
hell you didn’t.”

She
frowned. “You are quite vulgar this morning.” And then, because she couldn’t
quite help herself: “Maybe if your precious
Amanda
were here you would
be in a better mood.”

Gavin
was not amused. “Bloody Christ.” His gaze slid to the ceiling. “I can’t be
blamed for what I say in my sleep. If this is what I have to look forward to
for the rest of my life, may God strike me down now.”

“I
would be less concerned with God and more concerned with your wife, if I were
you.” Combing her hair over one shoulder, she began to mindlessly untangle the
snarled ringlets one at a time. “Now if you don’t mind, could you
please
tell
me—”

“The
Hare and Eagle Inn,” he interrupted. “It’s a tavern below, rooms above. Not the
best of establishments, but hardly the worst. There almost full up because of
the storm. We were lucky to get rooms.”

“I
don’t remember coming here at all.”

He
shrugged. “You were all but passed out, which is not surprising given the
ordeal you suffered.” For a moment his eyes turned hard as flint and his jaw
worked side to side. He appeared angry, furiously so, although where his anger
was directed Charlotte hadn’t a clue. The chords in his next visibly pulsed as
he attempted to control his emotions, and she wondered – not for the first time
– how he could jump so easily from one mood to the next. “Your maid is fine, by
the way. In case you wanted to know.”

Tabitha.
In the wake of finding herself next to Gavin and his nakedness, she had
completely forgotten about Tabitha. “Is she awake? Has a doctor seen her? Does
she remember anything?” Charlotte pulled fretfully at the ends of her hair, twisting
the auburn locks around and around her fingers. “Where is she? I should go to
her.”

“She
woke up briefly last night while the doctor examined her. She suffered a
concussion, albeit not a serious one. He gave her some laudanum to help with
the pain and ordered her to remain in bed for at least a day.”

“A
day?” Charlotte said in dismay. “But that means…”

“Yes.”
Gavin offered a ghost of a smile that fell far short of his eyes. “We will be
staying here longer than planned. Is that a problem?”

It
most certainly
was
a problem. A delay in their return to London meant
one thing and one thing only: more time with Gavin.

When
they were apart she could almost pretend she was not attracted to him. That she
was not pulled to him as though by some invisible force. That she did not think
of him constantly.

He
had made it clear he wanted nothing from her of an intimate nature, and she was
ready to give him exactly that, but she could not do so if she was tripping
over him with every step she took, not to mention waking up in bed next to his
naked
body! Against her will her gaze darted to his exposed chest. She could not
help but notice the sheet had slithered down and now rested precariously low on
his narrow hips, once again revealing the dark line of hair that trailed from
his belly button down to his…

“Something
of interest catch your eye?”

Charlotte’s
eyes darted guiltily to his face, and the amused twist of his mouth made her
spine stiffen. He was laughing at her! This could absolutely not continue.
“Where is Tabitha?” she repeated. “I will stay with her until we are able to
leave.”

Gavin
cupped his hands behind his head and stretched, pushing out his ribcage and
sucking in his stomach. The sheet dropped a few inches lower.

I
will not look
, Charlotte thought determinedly.
I will not, I will not, I
will not.

“Unfortunately,
the doctor’s orders were very specific,” Gavin drawled. “She is to rest without
interruption and I am afraid you, my dear wife, have already proved yourself to
be exactly that.”

“I
would not be an interruption! And besides, she will need someone to care for
her. Someone to fetch her meals and glasses of water and fluff her pillow.”

“All
of that has been taken care of. Your maid shall want for nothing while she is
recovering, except for peace and quiet, which she will not get if you are near
her.”

Charlotte
opened her mouth to argue, only to snap her teeth together a second later with
soft growl of frustration. Gavin was correct, blast him. She could not help but
bring a level of frenzied energy with her wherever she went, and if Tabitha
truly needed rest and relaxation to recuperate she would achieve neither in
Charlotte’s presence.

“Very
well. I will simply remain here and you” – her eyes narrowed – “will have to
find other accommodations for the remainder of our stay.”

“I
would if I could. However, as I told you before, the inn is completely full.”

“I
cannot… I cannot stay here with you!” Aghast at the very notion and unable to
remain still any longer, she began to pace the length of the small room. “You
said we would not have an intimate marriage,” she hissed, pausing just long
enough to toss Gavin an accusing glare over her shoulder.

“And
I meant it.”

Her
laugh was short and filled with disbelief. “Truly? Is that why I awoke this
morning to find you next to me?
Naked
?”

“Would
your rather I have worn wet clothes to bed?”

“I
would rather you have slept on the floor!”

Charlotte
nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. How had he
moved so fast? Like a snake through the grass, she thought darkly as he spun
her around to face him.

They
squared off, two boxers ready to fight to the death, neither one willing to
back down or even blink. Had he brought the sheet with him? She dared not look.

“If
my being near you is so repulsive,” he snarled, his gray eyes flashing
dangerously, “might I suggest
you
move to the floor. That is, after all,
where bitches lay, is it not?”

Her
hand moved before her mind fully processed what she was doing. Gavin’s head
snapped to the side when the flat of her palm connected with his cheek and the
loud, harsh slap of flesh striking flesh echoed through the room.

Charlotte
gasped and immediately stepped away, horrified at what she had done. No matter
the provocation she had never struck another human being in her entire life and
now, a day into her marriage, she had slapped her own husband! What was
wrong
with her? “Gavin, I—”

“Do
not,” he said roughly. Brusquely rubbing the side of his face where her hand
had made a red imprint beneath the scruff of dark facial hair, he sat heavily
on the edge of the bed and stared down at the floor boards between his feet.
“This marriage was a mistake. We are not suited for each other.” His mouth
twisted. “
I
am not suited for
you
. We never should have struck a
bargain.”

No
,
Charlotte’s mind replied instantly.
No, this marriage is
not
a
mistake.

Not
knowing what else to do, she sat gingerly on the opposite edge of the mattress.
“I am sorry for striking you,” she said quietly.

Gavin
glanced at her sideways. “And I am sorry for calling you a bit—not a nice
name,” he amended. Uncoiling from his slumped position he sighed loudly and
leaned back on his hands, locking his elbows in place. “Still, we are fools for
thinking this could work.”

“We
have only been married for two days,” Charlotte said, striving for a cheerful
tone.

“Exactly.
Two days and we are already at each other’s throats.”

She
supposed it was a valid point. “Perhaps if we took some time to get to know
each other…”

“You
do not even want to share the same room with me.”

“Yes,
well, to go from barely knowing you to waking up beside you was a bit of a
shock,” she admitted. “After all, you were the one who said we should not be
inti—”

“I
bloody well know what I said,” he snapped.

Charlotte
bit back a smile. “Maybe,” she ventured carefully, “we could get to know one
another. In time we would even come… come to care for one another.”

But
Gavin was already shaking his head. “No. No. Everyone I ever cared for is
dead.” He dropped his head back to stare straight up at the ceiling, his jaw
clenched tight and his voice oddly strained. “I am not a man worth knowing, nor
one worth loving. You would do well to remember that.
I
would do well to
remember that,” he said softly, as though to himself.

Her
heart aching for the pain she heard in his words, pain he was so careful to
keep hidden most of the time, Charlotte reached across the bed to touch his
hand, but with short, bitter laugh he snatched his arm away and stood up.

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