“Mrs Glover is rather persistent,” he said smoothly, closing the bedchamber door behind them. “But we should try to make ourselves presentable in the hope we reach Grayswood before nightfall.”
She swung around to face him, this scenario playing to every wild fantasy. “I would wait outside while you wash, but it will look odd considering we said we’re married.”
“In hindsight, it would have been better to say we’re siblings.”
“Yes.”Siblings!The word made her want to retch.
An awkward silence descended, broken only by Jenkins’ pained groan from the kitchen downstairs. She wasn’t sure what to say, what to do.
In her dreams, she played the confident seducer. A woman who knew what she wanted and took it without compunction. Now she felt like a green chit straight from the schoolroom.
Nicholas emptied the pitcher into the chipped china bowl on the washstand. He found a pot of soft soap, took one whiff, and quickly replaced the lid. “Perhaps just use water. There are muslin cloths in the left drawer. A comb and hairbrush in the right. I shall sit facing the window.”
With shaky fingers, she unbuttoned her pelisse and placed it on the chair in the corner of the room. Nicholas avoided eye contact when they switched positions, but the creak of the bed behind her did nothing to settle her nerves.
Despite her mind conjuring all sorts of lewd scenarios, she washed her hands and arms, face and neck. Discreetly, she checked her stockings and brushed dust and creases from her dress.
“I might rest on the bed while you wash.” She turned to find him staring out of the window, at the expanse of green fields. “Hopefully, Sebastian will rescue us soon.”
Nicholas stood to his full, impressive height. “When he does, I have decided to return to London. I doubt Lady Brompton will miss my company.”
“Return to London! But why?” How was it she felt bereft and relieved at the same time? Suspicion flared. “Do you believe you were the crazed coachman’s target? If so, that means you know why someone might want you dead.”
His mask slipped briefly, distress marring his handsome features. “We need to hire men to retrieve Sebastian’s coach. You’re looking forward to the trip to Grayswood. Logic says I should be the one to deal with the matter.”
He made a habit of not answering questions directly. Yes, his suggestion made complete sense, but his tone lacked conviction.
“What is it you fear?”
What in Mother Mary’s name are you hiding?
“Does it have something to do with a spurned lover?” she pressed boldly. Jealousy was often a motive for murder. “Mrs Ingram claims to be your mistress, though you never acknowledge her publicly. Perhaps she mistakenly believes our affections are engaged.”
He arched a brow. “A lady should know better than to ask a gentleman indelicate questions.” He moved past her, shrugged off his coat and threw it onto the bed.
Heavens! She had forgotten how the fine lawn clung to his biceps.
“Mrs Ingram is a pest,” he said, oblivious to her drooling.
“So she is not your lover?”
“No.”
“Then who is?” She watched him roll his shirtsleeves up to his elbows and couldn’t help but stare at his muscular forearms.
“No one.” He plunged his hands into the cold water and gave a weary sigh. “Get some rest. Once I’ve finished here, I shall check the horses.”
The heavy tension in the air did not deter her. “Sebastian said you could have any woman of your choosing.” Nicholas had a magnetic power that drew damsels in droves.
“Sebastian should mind his tongue when he speaks to his sister.” He cupped water in his hands and splashed it over his face.
“When you become part of a family, there is no such thing as privacy.” If she must treat him as a brother, she would gain something from the intolerable situation. “I merely mean to establish whether a jealous woman wants to hurt you.”
He gazed at the water for so long she was surprised when he answered. “I have not spent time alone with a woman since your mother took ill. So let that be the end of your probing questions.”
Since her mother took ill?
But that was over two years ago?