One Night in London: A Georgian Historical Romance by Tamara Gill

Author:Tamara Gill [Gill, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tamara Gill
Published: 2024-08-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Eighteen

Beckett leaned against the squabs and watched as Genevieve slept on the seat across from him. They had managed to pin her gown together with some of her hairpins and removed her wig so she could sleep comfortably as they traveled through the night. Beckett wanted to put enough distance between them and London so no one could catch up.

What he was doing was bold, perhaps not even the right decision. Her family would certainly not like the way he'd gone about saving her reputation.

He tore his gaze away from her, not needing to imagine what could have happened to her or what their marriage would mean. He didn't want Genevieve in a romantic way. He was merely doing her a favor, saving her reputation—nothing more.

The carriage rumbled to a halt before the Pig N' Whistle Inn, their first stop for the night. A young stablehand ran to let down the carriage steps and help Genevieve alight.

A cool drizzle fell about them, and as he joined Genevieve in the inn yard, he took her hand and helped her run toward the inn door. Upon entering the establishment, the noise, merry drinkers, and drunkards who'd imbibed far too much wine before catching their stagecoaches to unknown locations assaulted their ears.

"Ah, Lord Tyndall, good to see you again. I hope you're not after your usual room this evening, my lord. We're heavily booked, I'm afraid."

He inwardly groaned, hating not to have what he was accustomed to, but his stop here was unchartered and not unforeseen. He couldn't expect the inn to accommodate him every time. "We require two rooms, and if the young lady could have a hip bath brought up, we've been traveling for some hours."

"Oh, my lord, we only have one room left." The innkeeper frowned. "Will that suffice?"

"Lord Tyndall. " Genevieve's squeak of alarm was not unwarranted. "Are you certain you do not have two rooms?" she asked.

The innkeeper checked again. "No, I'm afraid. Only the one, but it is large and at the front of the inn. It enjoys the morning light."

Beckett ground his teeth. He didn't care if it received the morning light or not. What he didn't want to do was sleep next to Genevieve. Even if it were not far from the morning, they would sleep for several hours and possibly continue their journey after luncheon.

"We'll take it if that is all that's available. Thank you."

"Of course, my lord. Right this way."

The innkeeper took them upstairs and deposited them into their room. Genevieve slumped on a chair before the fireplace. A maid, following close on their heels, quickly lit it and left.

"I'll have the bath delivered immediately. Would you like some cheese and bread brought up? Our cook isn't here until the morning for anything more substantial."

"That will do very well. And some wine, thank you."

"Of course." The innkeeper shuffled out of the room, closing the door and leaving them alone. Very much alone.

Genevieve had fallen asleep in the chair, and he watched her for several minutes.

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