Regency Romance: A Race Against The Lord (A Historical Romance Book) (COMPLETED)

04

Lydia wasn't sure what she expected when the candles grew shorter and the shadows lengthened. Perhaps she had expected that Nicholas would sneak off to some other room that he had rented, or perhaps that he would stretch out on the floor. When he saw her hesitation, he grinned, showing teeth that were certainly too sharp and white.

"Duke I might be, but I'm no one's idea of a gentleman."

"Surely, you don't think that we are going to share our bed!"

"I think that there is a single bed in this room, and I would wager that there is no bed free at all in this town. I know that I am sleeping in it. You can decide what you want."

Lydia was more tired than she had ever been. The days in the coach followed by the incident with the highwayman had left her drained, and now that she was fed and warm, all she wanted to do was to crawl between the covers on the bed. She nearly agreed, but then she saw Nicholas' amused gaze, and she straightened hastily.

"I don't need you to be a gentleman. I just need you to be a decent human being."

"Well, I may be depended on for that. Do you need help with your gown?"

"You must think me helpless indeed if you think I can't get out of my clothes without aid."

"Less aid than pleasure, but suit yourself."

Lydia shivered a little when she heard the way his mouth caressed the word pleasure, but he turned away to give her some privacy as she undressed. She managed her buttons well enough, and she could sleep in her shift and stockings. It would have to do, she decided, as she wrapped a blanket around her body and went to lie down on the wool rug. It would provide her with some protection from the hard wooden floor at least.

Nicholas had stripped out of his jacket, waistcoat, and trousers, leaving him only in his own shirt. He lounged on the bed, watching her with some amusement.

"Are you sure that I cannot entice you to bed? I'll even promise to be on my best behavior."

"No promise necessary," Lydia said, turning over on the rug. It was less protection from the wooden floor than she had assumed, but it was better than nothing. Probably. "I am fine where I am."

"Suit yourself then."

* * *

It seemed to take her hours to get to sleep, and even then, she kept waking up. Lydia rolled over yet again, wondering if there was actually a bruise forming on her hip and shoulder. She certainly wasn't making any noise, and she knew she wasn't whimpering when she heard an irritated sound from the bed.

Lydia rolled over to see Nicholas stalking over to her, shaking his head. In the very last of the candlelight, he looked positively demonic in the darkness.

"What?" she squeaked.

"You're a damned plague," he informed her. "Come on. You'll keep us both awake with your whimpering."

"I wasn't whimpering!"

"Yes, you were. Now come here and stop fussing."

He left her wrapped in her blanket and rolled her close to his body, throwing his own blanket over them both. With her head pillowed on his arm and her back to his chest, Lydia sighed at the rush of warmth.

"There. Now sleep."

Lydia was certain that she had something tart to say about imperious lords and men who dragged women to their beds in the middle of the night, but it simply felt too good to be in a proper bed and with his warm body nestled against hers. Her tirade turned into a yawn, and faster than she would have believed, she fell into a deep sleep.