Mantheria’s eyelashesfelt as if they had been glued shut by one of her little sisters when a chambermaid came to wake her up at the ungodly hour of four o’clock in the morning.Rubbing her eyes, she tried to get them to focus.It didn’t matter that every inch of her was sore.The only thing that mattered was Andrew’s safety.
He was the great joy of her life.The consolation of all her heartaches and regrets.She would have gladly traded her life for his any day.Or any early morning.
Mantheria was delightfully surprised how well the maids had been able to “spruce up” her dress and pelisse.They were clean enough for her to wear them another day, and since she only had one other dress in her bandbox, it would be wise not to wear it yet.The chambermaid tied the ribbon of Mantheria’s black hat, which looked as if it had been sat upon from the carriage crash.
She handed the chambermaid a coin and thanked her for her services.The helpful young lady had also brought her up a tray for breakfast and put it on the table of the green private parlor.Mantheria’s stomach rumbled, and she remembered that she hadn’t eaten since the morning before, and she felt ravenous.She sat down at the table and greedily ate everything on her plate and drank nearly an entire pot of tea.She would need her strength to find her son.
Getting up, she went to the door that led to the hall but stopped before she turned the handle.
Sunny.
She had to check on him before she left.The green private parlor boasted three doors: one to the hall, one to the room that Mantheria had slept in the night before, and she was pretty certain that she would find Sunny through the final door.Walking as quietly as possible, she opened the door to Sunny’s room and saw him fast asleep in the bed.His handsome bare chest rose and fell rhythmically.His breathing was steady.Sunny was all right—and at least half naked.Not that she was going to check underneath the blankets for his other half.
Mantheria felt her temperature rise, and her own breathing quickened.She had thought herself immune to the feelings of animalistic attraction.Alexander had thought her cold and unresponsive in bed.The marriage act had seemed so very strange, and she had followed Miss Cluess’s advice to hold still and do her duty.Nothing more.Nothing less.Her mother’s advice had been quite different, but Mantheria had ignored it, assuming that such behavior was for commoners, and she was alady.
How she regretted not listening to her mother!
Perhaps she might have been better prepared for her role as a wife.Less frigid.Alexander might not have returned to his former mistress if she had been a better bedfellow.But by then, it had hurt to be touched.Mantheria was expecting Andrew, and her breasts were sore and her stomach unsteady.Whenever Alexander had come near her, or even touched her, she’d thrown up.So, she avoided him.It was already strange enough to be only seventeen and away from her family and home.But then her body had not even felt like it belonged to her either.
Shaking her head as if to clear these painful memories, Mantheria willed her pulse to slow down and her temperature to cool.She would never marry again, and no other husband would find her wanting in any way.
Creeping back across the room, she closed the door behind her and went downstairs to settle her accounts with Mrs.Amber.At precisely five o’clock in the morning, Mantheria and her sole bandbox were on the mail coach headed to Bath.
6
Sunny rubbed his aching head, and there was a strange pull of discomfort from his right shoulder.For a moment, he thought that he had a terrible hangover, but then he remembered where he was and what had happened the night before.He’d dislocated his shoulder in the carriage accident.
“Mantheria!Andrew!”
He threw off his coverlet and realized that his only clothing was his breeches.He could not burst into her room without a shirt on.Sighing, Sunny quickly dressed.Once fully attired with his coat, he entered their shared parlor.But no one was there.
Glancing out the window, he realized that it was already midmorning.Possibly as late as ten o’clock.Andrew would be nearly to Bath by now.He let out a long string of curses that he’d learned at Eton.How could he have slept in on such a morning?He truly was the worst companion on a rescue.Sunny was as useless as his rakish father had been.
With another heaving sigh, he lightly knocked on Mantheria’s door and waited for her answer.After several minutes, he cautiously opened it and found the room empty.The bed was already made up.She was gone.
Closing the door, Sunny left the green parlor and went down to the taproom, where he was met by a matron in a white apron.She curtsied deeply.“Your Grace is up.I will send your meal up to the private parlor and have a hostler fetch the doctor to look at your shoulder.”
He swung his arm around.“I’m fit as a fiddle this morning.I am merely looking for Her Grace.”
The matron gave a low whistle.“Your wife was so eager to go after your son that she left you here to recover.”
Your wife.
Sunny only wished that those two words were true, but he didn’t blame Mantheria for her prevarication.It would be difficult for her to explain that they were old friends.“When did she leave?”
“Five o’clock this morning on the mail coach, Your Grace.”
Always efficient was Mantheria.
And she’d left him behind because he’d been useless.Perhaps he should return to London.Clearly, she did not need him.But then, how was he ever going to convince Mantheria that shedidneed him in her life?As her real husband.
Breathing in and out slowly, he felt another tug of pain from his shoulder, but he ignored it.“Breakfast in the taproom is fine, ma’am.I should like to hire your fastest hack to follow my wife.Please have it saddled and ready for me as soon as possible.”
She curtsied.“Very good, Your Grace.”
A man who Sunny assumed was the matron’s husband gave him a large plate of eggs, bread, sausages, potatoes, and beans.It was a hearty meal, but he would need it if he was going to ride all day to catch up with Mantheria and Andrew.
Since Sunny was not married, he didn’t know how it felt to be a parent.Truthfully, the thought offatheringhad always been foreign to him.He had no memories of his own father, and he wondered what sort of parent he would be.Wick had taken to fatherhood with aplomb and seemed to be carrying one of his many boys whenever Sunny saw him.Wick was relaxed and playful.Not unlike his own father, the Duke of Hampford.But Sunny had no example, and he wasn’t particularly good with children.