Chapter Nine
James spotted Gwendolyn the moment she entered the common room to grab a bite to eat before they continued their journey. She had been the last of them to wake up, no doubt because she was suffering from a hangover.
He felt some remorse for her condition. He ought to have stopped her from imbibing too much last night.
Obviously, she was not used to drinking more than a glass or two of wine in an evening.
Also, she was slender and her body had proven too little and delicate to absorb the four glasses of Madeira she had practically guzzled after supper.
She was obviously a novice when it came to getting drunk.
He rose to greet her as she approached. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she replied, casting him a particularly vulnerable smile that had him wanting to put his arms around her. “I hope I am not delaying everyone.”
Agatha and his sons had earlier finished their breakfast and were now waiting for them outside by the carriages. His valet, Crawford, was also outside supervising the loading of their overnight bags to make certain nothing was left behind.
“No delay, I am just finishing my coffee.” He frowned as he studied her more closely. “You are looking a little peaked this morning, Gwen. Are you all right?”
She nodded. “A bit of a headache. Nothing serious. Leaving Duchess Square affected me more than I realized. My stomach was in knots all day yesterday.”
“I noticed.”
“Then last night’s meal might have been a bit too much for me after the long carriage ride. The wine did not help either. I should not have imbibed those last two glasses of Madeira with the gusto of a drunken sailor. Quite a poor decision on my part. I think I am experiencing the aftereffects.”
His smile was indulgent as he said, “Have you never been lathered before?”
“No, never. Nor do I hope to ever be again.” She gave a laughing groan. “What did I say to you as you walked me back to my room?”
Gad, what hadn’t she said? She had practically poured her heart out to him because she was in so much agony over that rotter, Andrew Clement. “Nothing terrible.”
“But I was quite chatty, wasn’t I? Oh, heavens.” She sank into the chair he’d pulled out for her and groaned again. “Was I horribly inappropriate?”
“You said nothing embarrassing, if that’s what you are worried about.” James motioned to one of the maids and ordered a pot of tea and honey for her. “The honey will help coat your stomach. I’ll prepare a breakfast plate for you. What would you like?”
She glanced up in surprise. “You would take care of me?”
“Yes, of course. Why not?”
Blessed saints, for the rest of our lives if only you will let me.
But he knew Gwendolyn was not ready to take that big step yet. However, he held out hope that she was inching toward it.
Her present agony was precisely because she felt ready to move on. Her drunken babbling gave James hope that she might move on with him.
The maid immediately brought over a pot of tea and the requested honey, so James poured Gwendolyn a cup and prepared it with the care of a doctor attending to his patient. “I think maybe a soft-boiled egg and a scone will do for you.”
“Yes, sounds like the perfect remedy for a pounding head and a roiling stomach, although my stomach is feeling much better today.”
“Just not fully resolved yet?”
She nodded and gave her belly a light pat. “Still a little delicate.”
He returned with her breakfast plate and sank down in the chair beside hers, quietly studying her as she took a tentative bite of her scone.
She looked quite pretty despite being out of sorts.
Her hair was drawn back in a simple chignon at her nape that brought out the delicacy of her features.
Her aquamarine eyes looked surprisingly clear.
No doubt she had fallen asleep quickly and managed a full night’s rest. She wore a travel gown of dark forest green that somehow brought out the splendid sea-green and ocean-blue shades of her eyes.
Spectacular eyes.
“James,” she said with trepidation, drawing him out of his thoughts, “I don’t remember undressing myself, and…ah, Agatha claims she did not undress me.”
“And you think I did?”
She winced. “Who else? I could not have done it myself.”
“True, you were in no condition to even crawl into bed on your own. But no, Gwen, I did not undress you. Well, not completely. I merely loosened a few of your laces, that’s all.
” Touching her and holding her up against his body while he worked those lacings had shot fire through his limbs and left him aching to touch her and kiss her all night long.
He hadn’t, of course.
He shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. “After unlacing you, I sat you on your bed and removed your shoes for you. Your maid was not in the room, but I knew she would soon return to attend to you.”
“She said I was already undressed and asleep when she got back.” Gwendolyn released a breath. “Did I manage this myself?”
“Yes.” It was mostly the truth. She had required additional assistance with her gown even after he’d unlaced it.
Gad, what a sweet body she had.
Not that he had been looking. In fact, he had twisted himself into knots trying not to look or touch her beyond what was minimally necessary.
But the drink had gone completely to her head, and she would have walked into walls if left to herself.
Since she could not stand up straight, she’d wound up leaning all over him.
Her bosom had grazed his arm…well, more than grazed. Her lush breasts had molded to his arm and softly flattened against it as he tried his best to hold her up.
Then her gown had slipped off her body when he’d made the mistake of once again trying to stand her up.
It slid to the floor, leaving her only in a cotton shift that revealed far too much of her ample breasts and nicely shaped bottom.
He’d set her safely back on the bed and left because she set his body on fire.
“Did you sleep soundly?”
“Like the dead.” Gwendolyn drank her tea slowly. “I’m not sure how I managed to put on my nightgown.”
No, he wasn’t going to respond to that remark.
In truth, he had no idea how she had managed to remove the shift and don her nightgown. The last he saw before tearing out of her room was her slipping the sleeve of her shift off one creamy shoulder. He almost expired when it slipped below one of her beautifully rounded breasts, exposing it.
Yes, that had nearly done him in. That vision was now etched into his eyeballs.
She sighed and took a nibble of her scone. Then she ate a little of her soft-boiled egg.
“What did I say to you?” she asked, staring into the yellow yolk she was stirring in the egg cup. “I know you said it was not embarrassing, but I am not sure I believe you.”
“It was mostly unintelligible, but you repeated several times that I was wonderful. Simply wonderful. And did I know that I was wonderful?”
“Oh, good grief. What an idiot I am.”
“No, Gwen. I am pleased that you think well of me.”
“I do. But I still made a monumental fool of myself.”
“You didn’t. As I said, it is nice to know that you genuinely like me and are not merely pandering to me because I am your client. The truth often spills out when a person has imbibed too much, and the revelations aren’t always pleasant.”
She stirred her soft-boiled egg some more. “I do like and admire you. I don’t think I have made a secret of it. I would not bother to work with you otherwise.”
James gave no response, just sipped his coffee and waited patiently for her to finish her meal.
She had undressed in front of him and said she wanted to kiss him again. He would have obliged were she not drunk. But he was no cad and could not bring himself to take advantage of her vulnerability.
He was trying desperately not to think about what had happened last night because he needed to keep things casual between them until she was truly ready to put Andrew Clement aside and take a step forward with him.
“James, you need to tell me the truth. I can take the humiliation. It cannot be worse than how I often feel when thinking of Andrew. Everyone believes I am an idiot for holding on to the hope he will someday return to me. Have I been a fool all these years?”
“Gwen, it is not foolish to love someone. But there comes a point in your life when you must make a conscious choice to put the past behind you and move forward to find your happiness.”
To his way of thinking, she had been making that choice last night. He doubted she would admit it yet.
She nodded. “I think this is what is tearing me up inside. My friends are all falling in love and marrying. I’ll be the only spinster on Duchess Square.
I did not feel it when we were all unattached and making pleasant lives for ourselves together in friendship.
We will always be friends, of course. But it is different now.
Much of their time will be spent with their husbands and eventually raising children. ”
“And you hope this for yourself?”
She nodded. “I thought it would be with Andrew.”
“I understand what you are feeling, this expectation of moving forward with one particular person and then realizing your future will not be with them. You want to move ahead but cannot do it yet because this new path is still uncertain. Where will it lead you? Can you take the first step onto it?”
“Yes, this is exactly what I am feeling.” She drank a little of her tea. “I am sorry for all the times I have unfairly admonished you. I know selecting a wife cannot be easy for you, especially since you were so happy in your first marriage.”
They spoke no more as Agatha hurried in to let them know their carriages were waiting and the boys were impatient to leave. “Oh, yes.” Gwendolyn scrambled to her feet. “I’m finished. Shall we go?”
James nodded and rose along with her.
The next two days of travel were uneventful. They made good time and reached their reserved coaching inns earlier than expected each evening because of the excellent condition of the roadways.