Chapter Fourteen #3
“Very well. My apologies for inconveniencing you.” James rose and took Gwendolyn gently by the elbow to lead her out.
A gust of warm, moist air struck her as she stepped outside. The night had turned damp with the threat of rain.
James assisted her into their waiting hackney for the short ride to the inn.
However, just before climbing in himself, he asked the driver if he had noticed anything out of the ordinary or anyone lingering outside the café. “I kept a sharp eye out all the while you were inside, m’lord. Nothing dodgy going on. No one lingering about.”
“Sorry, Gwen,” James muttered, taking a seat beside her.
Gwendolyn felt her fury rising.
She was seething by the time they returned to the inn and marched up to their room. “How could he do this to me?”
She was about to say more when James suddenly drew her in and latched the door. “We were followed.”
She gasped. “Are you certain? But your Bow Street Runner said he saw no one.”
“He’s a good investigator,” he assured her, “but Clement may have outwitted him.”
Gwendolyn snorted. “Because you believe Andrew might be a trained agent of the Crown? In addition to being a rotter and a heel.”
“It is just one possibility.” He put a finger to his lips, obviously warning her to keep quiet while he began to slowly walk around the room and check potential hiding spots. “Not only followed us here just now…but someone was in here while we were at Marchand’s café.”
A shiver crawled up Gwendolyn’s spine. “How can you tell? Are they gone now? Or do you think they are lurking close by?”
“Yes, gone. I’ve just searched all the potential hiding places in this room. There aren’t many.”
“And they are all clear?”
He nodded. “Do you notice a scent in the room? A trace of cologne? It isn’t mine, nor is it the proprietor’s.”
“Ugh, that proprietor was in need of a bath,” she remarked.
“Thank goodness this room is cleaner than he was.” She inhaled lightly.
“I do notice the scent, now that you’ve brought it to my attention.
Perhaps it was just a maid who came in to spray the room with something pleasant…
um, something citrus. I thought it might be a thing normally done after… um…”
“To hide the odor of hot bodies grinding together?” James said with a wry grin.
“Must you be so explicit?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Am I expected to be polite at a time like this?”
“No, I don’t suppose you are. I know you are not happy about any of this. James…is that what happens during intimacy? Bodies get hot?”
His expression softened. “Yes.”
“Then it would certainly make sense for a maid to come in here and apply something with a citrus scent to mask body odors after couples…you know.”
James sighed. “Yes, possible. You’re probably right. I don’t know why my instincts tell me it was Clement poking about in here while we were at the café. I’m sure I am giving him too much credit. As you say, doubtful he’s been here at all.”
Still, he looked under the pillows and lifted the bed’s coverings to peer under them.
Gwendolyn watched him. “Do you think to find him under the pillows? Or hiding beneath the blanket?”
James shot her an impatient glance. “Looking for a note or other sign he was in here.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry. Did you find anything?”
“No.”
She emitted a mirthless laugh. “I don’t know what is worse, his coming here in secret or his never coming here at all.”
They sat up waiting until well after midnight, a lone candle providing soft amber illumination that revealed the sparseness of the room.
The only furniture was a large, canopied bed, a cushioned chair, a small wardrobe, and a table with two spindly chairs.
A pitcher of water, cloths, and a basin rested atop the table.
Gwendolyn felt so odd being in here.
In truth, she also felt a little soiled, even though she and James had done nothing improper.
However, others had their windows open on this warm night, and their moans, groans, grunts, and other noises she could not identify carried on the wind.
Indeed, such sounds!
James laughed upon hearing a particularly expressive couple in the room beside theirs. “Sorry, Gwen. I did not expect you to get such a thorough education.”
She walked to the window and poked her head out of it. “What are they doing to each other? In all my days, I’ve never heard such sounds.”
He came to her side and nudged her back in. “Do you disapprove? They aren’t hurting each other.”
“But they could be hurting others by their actions. What of his abandoned wife? She may be hurt knowing this is what her husband is doing while she is tending their home.” Perhaps this was just her prudery speaking. Or the fact that she felt abandoned by Andrew.
James grunted. “Chances are, she is content with their arrangement. Most marriages entered into are not love marriages. Who knows? His wife could be in her own cozy love nest doing the same with a footman or one of their grooms.”
“I hope she is,” Gwendolyn said with an emphatic nod. “Better that than being made a fool of, as I was. Don’t you find it odd that these places are called love nests when those who come here to indulge do so precisely because they lack love?”
“Don’t think too hard about it, Gwen. Worry about yourself and think carefully on the sort of man you will accept to marry.”
She blushed, for James was speaking of himself.
He was right. She knew what she wanted in a marriage, for it was the one thing she had always wanted…love.
Would she ever have this bliss with Andrew? Had their time already come and gone?
“It’s just a waiting game now,” James said, moving away from her and resting a shoulder against one of bed’s posts. “Make yourself comfortable. We still have much of the night ahead of us.”