25. Chapter 25

Chapter twenty-five

Robert dropped his head, letting it hang between his shoulders as he gathered every thread of patience he had left in his body. "No? You are saying no ?" He brought his head up, fixing the shop owner with a steely gaze. The man was upright in character, which Robert admired. But right now, he required money, not honor.

"I don't need the constable coming by my door and confiscating stolen goods and leaving me in the lurch." The shop owner picked up a rag and began polishing some small trinkets on a shelf.

"What about my boots?" Louisa was already reaching down and removing her foot from her right boot.

"Absolutely not. I can sell my boots," Robert insisted.

"Apparently you cannot." She kept his gaze as she dropped her half-boot onto the counter.

The man's eyes widened once more. "They are less valuable than the Hessians, but still much more than I can afford to sell."

"As we have stated," Louisa said with a sickening sweetness to her voice that was not real in the least, "we do not need the full value of the footwear. It's just a means to an end."

"Yea, but what means and what end?" The owner raised his brow.

"To get home."

"You far from home, then?" His knobby hand continued to polish a small glass object as he flicked his gaze between them.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Which accounts for our footwear, would you not agree?"

He narrowed his eyes, his hand stopping. "Very well. Let's say I believe you. Why are you stranded here, of all places?"

Robert dropped his head again, frustration filtering through every limb in his body. "It is so much easier to pay people off," he said with a groan.

"We do not have the funds for that now, hence our situation." Louisa rubbed Robert's back as if consoling him in his sorry state. "Now, kind sir, if you could please give us something for anything , we shall be on our way."

Robert's head flew up. "Not anything," he quickly added. The store owner seemed decent, but his wife's person was not on the table in any way, shape, or form.

"Oh, goodness." Louisa sighed, throwing her face in her hands. "This is utterly ridiculous. You are a duke, and we cannot even find a way to get home!"

"A duke?" The shop owner's head snapped up. "You be pullin' my leg."

"Yes, she is." Robert gave Louisa a warning glance. "But I can assure you your hospitality will not go unrecognized. You will be paid handsomely if you only appease us and allow us to sell you something."

The owner narrowed an eye, placing the glass object down. "Still doesn't feel right. But I suppose we could make some sort of a deal."

"Thank you," Robert said with a sigh. "Could we please trade for a lesser pair of boots and a small bit of funds?"

"I will take the lady's boots," the owner said, nodding toward the half-boot Louisa had plopped unceremoniously onto the counter. "I can give you five shillings for them."

Five shillings was an abomination compared to their actual worth, but they did not have the luxury of haggling, nor was Robert in the mood. "Fine," he bit out. "Five shillings, and she gets another pair to wear home."

Louisa slipped her other boot off, handing it over as the owner walked across the room. He came back with a pair of woman's slippers. "These are all I got that will fit the lady. Her feet are a bit large compared to what I have in stock."

"Excuse me," Louisa said with a sharp inhale.

"The shoes don't lie. Try ‘em on." He pushed the shoes across the counter to her.

Louisa huffed again, sliding her foot into the slipper.

A perfect fit.

She turned her foot in the air as she examined them. "They will get me home."

Robert snatched the five shillings the owner slapped onto the counter and slipped them into his pocket. "Thank you and have a nice day." Robert put his hand to Louisa's back and pushed her toward the door before she could start a fight over the shopkeeper's comment about the size of her feet. She had fire in her eyes, and Robert didn't want to lose the funds they were barely able to obtain in the first place. Nor did he want another brawl on his hands.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Louisa huffed a breath. "Can you believe that man? Saying my feet are large? How incredibly rude."

"Perhaps others have thought it but said nothing because of your station." Robert couldn't help the grin he felt spreading across his face.

"Let us forget it and focus on finding a way home. I see the hackney driver just over there."

They rushed over, the sun barely cresting the roofs of the buildings lining the road. As they approached the hackney cab, the coachman wrinkled his nose upon seeing them.

"I ain't givin' you a free ride," he yelled out.

Robert reached into his pocket. "Have no fear. We have funds." He jingled the coins in his hand.

The coachman's head perked up, staring at Robert's fisted hand. "And how'd you get money so quick?"

What were these men? Spies for Prinn? "We sold my wife's shoes," he said. "We have plenty to get us home."

"Well, I will take you as far as Barton Street but I won't go any further."

"And why not?" Robert clenched his teeth, fisting the coins tighter. This was the nightmare that wouldn't end.

"Long story short, I ain't got the time. And seein' as how I dunno why you want to go to that part of town, I am a bit skeptical. Not to mention your quick acquisition of funds. Seems leery. But I will take you as far as Barton Street. You should be able to get where you need to go from there."

"It's the best we are going to get, Robert. I say let's take it." Louisa looked up at him.

If it were just him, he wouldn't worry so much. But the sun was quickly setting, and he needed to get her safely home. Without the protection of his title and funds, it was proving difficult.

"Very well." He tossed a coin to the driver, helping Louisa up inside of the haggard carriage. Upon entering, an unpleasant odor attacked their noses.

"What is that?" Louisa pointed to a dark spot on one of the benches.

"Best not to ask questions. Just sit close to me on this side and we will try to make the best of things."

They pressed together on the rear-facing bench, and Robert forced himself to not try and find the source of the odor—though logic told him it had something to do with the stain across from them.

After an uncomfortable ride, the driver stopped and let them out, saluting them in farewell as he turned his cab around.

"Shall we find another coach?" Louisa asked, glancing about.

"Yes. But I don't see any coaches at the moment."

"Neither do I."

Robert heard Louisa's stomach grumble again and noticed a pallor seeping into her face. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Let us get a bit to eat. No sense in standing here waiting for a coach while you starve to death." He was surprised when she did not protest, but instead allowed him to steer her toward a dimly lit pub. Her bare arm felt cool under his hand. "You are cold," he said, more a statement than a question. His fingers gently slid over her skin.

"I am fine," she said with a slight chatter, defying her words.

"Here." He held the door of a pub open for her. "Let us rest before we continue our journey home."

She laughed, and he followed her inside. "Yes. Quite a journey it has been."

They made their way to a secluded booth in the back of the room, sliding onto the same wooden bench. Louisa allowed her head to gently rest against his shoulder and he dared not move, not wanting to do anything that might make her pull away.

"And what sounds good to you?"

"Food," she grumbled into his shoulder.

A middle-aged woman walked over to their table. "What can I do for the two of you?"

Louisa didn't move to say anything.

"May we have two bowls of stew and some bread? And a mug of ale."

The woman nodded. "Comin' right out."

"I don't know why I am so tired," Louisa said, quietly.

Robert turned his head, kissing her hair gently enough that he hoped she wouldn't flinch away. "I believe you need food. Which we shall have shortly."

"You were correct. I am cold."

Robert lifted her head from his shoulder, sitting her up as he slipped out of his jacket. "Here." He placed it across her shoulders, and she nestled into it with a sigh of bliss. "I know you do not enjoy its smell, but it should keep you warm."

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall behind them. "It actually smells like you."

He let loose his pleased smile, knowing she could not see him. They sat in silence until the same woman came back with their bowls of stew, a plate of rolls, and his ale.

He nodded his thanks and Louisa sat up, daintily taking her first sip of the warm stew. She groaned. "I'm not sure I've had a more delicious stew in my entire life."

He chuckled. "Perhaps because you are ravenous."

"Perhaps. But it still seems delicious on its own merit."

Robert took a spoonful of his own bowl. "It isn't bad," he said with a nod of approval, dipping his spoon back into the bowl for another bite. "And how is the bread?"

Louisa was sinking her teeth into the roll as he asked. "It's heaven," she said with a mouthful.

"Excuse me, but manners dictate you not speak with food in your mouth." He gently elbowed her as he grinned.

"No one here knows us," she said, reaching for another roll. "And I am quite hungry."

Robert sipped his ale, then switched between bites of his stew and the roll. He ate slowly, not wanting to finish too soon if Louisa ate all her food and desired more.

Finally, after swabbing her bowl clean with her last bite of roll, she pressed back into her seat, holding her stomach. "I am decidedly full."

He laughed. "I should say so. You ate all your stew and three rolls."

"I think I am up for waiting for that hackney now. My resolve has been strengthened."

"Very good." Robert reached into his pocket and tossed a shilling onto the table. "We should be off then. It is full night now, and I'm sure my staff has sent out a search party."

Louisa kept Robert's jacket on, pulling it tighter in front of her as they stepped out onto the street. "Oh, I see a coach!" She spun around, clutching his arm. Their luck seemed to turn, and they were able to secure it before someone else came by. When they slipped inside, Louisa sat beside him, even going so far as to rest her head against his shoulder.

"I think you are still tired," he said.

"Perhaps." She gave a contented sigh. "I thought the food would help me wake up, but I seem to be even sleepier."

"And all this from a woman who can visit for an entire evening until the light of morning?"

"I am quite surprised myself." She was silent for a moment, and he was content to just bask in her closeness—the feel of her weight leaning against him, the rise and fall of her chest as she took slow, relaxed breaths, the smell of her hair.

Her chest jerked and she let out a choked laugh.

"What?" Robert asked, pushing his arm out as he tried to see her face.

"This has been the oddest day of my life." She held her stomach, her laughter increasing as if the day had finally caught up with her and she could not believe it had actually happened.

He smiled, a laugh slipping out as he let the day play through his mind. "It has been rather strange, hasn't it?"

"Strange?" She sat up, facing him. "You paid a man for a threadbare jacket, I traded my boots for these horrid slippers, we were chased through one of the seedier neighborhoods of London, and were accused of being thieves and refused service because we had no money."

"Well, when you say it like that." He couldn't stop laughing, and finally wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back to his side. All he could think about was how wonderful it felt to have her tucked beside him. And then he yearned for what he could not have. He wanted the liberty to pull her chin up and press his lips against hers. He wanted to have confidence that such a thing would be welcomed by her.

"Robert?"

"Mm-hmm?" he murmured, eyes shut.

"Just so you know," she said, then hesitated. "I did not want you to stop."

His heart stammered. Did she mean . . ? "Excuse me?"

Louisa pulled away and faced him, her eyes dipping to his mouth before looking down to the seat where she ran a finger along a small tear in the fabric.

She swallowed. "I said I did not want you to stop. Earlier. In the alleyway." Her words came out with sudden halts, as if every one cost her something. Her pride, perhaps?

He leaned forward, slowly reaching his hand up and cupping her chin in his palm. Her eyes jerked to his as he stopped just before her mouth. He didn't speak, only paused and gave her the time to refuse him.

But she didn't.

Robert leaned forward, gently brushing his lips against hers in a silent plea, waiting with dread for her to pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her body going limp in his arms—as if she couldn't fight her wants anymore and lagged under the strain of it. Robert skimmed his lips across hers, savoring the moment as she allowed him the privilege to hold and kiss her. Fear and joy mingled in his chest, and any doubt of her reciprocated desire soon fled as she pressed her mouth firmly against his, her hand coming up and landing softly on his chest. He trailed his fingers down her cheek as his mouth roved over hers with a bit more determination. Louisa's fingers tightened, fisting the fabric of his shirt as her breaths quickened, causing him to become greedier with each kiss he stole—as if she might suddenly put an end to this and he wouldn't know how to breathe once she was gone.

He had to remember everything about this moment. The way the light of the streetlamps flickered against the back of his eyelids, the way Louisa's hand slid up his chest, grabbing the back of his neck, how she threaded her fingers into his hair and lightly ran them through the strands. A low rumble sounded in his chest at her touches. He put his hands around her waist, moving his lips to her neck and placing them against the pulse he felt fluttering away.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, and they pulled apart with a start. All they could do was stare at each other, the seconds ticking past with each breath they heaved.

And then the door opened.

Without a moment's hesitation, Robert threw the remainder of his funds at the coachman and swept Louisa into his arms, carefully ducking out of the door and striding to the house. Her skirts draped over his hand where he carried her legs as his other arm held her body to him.

"Goodness, you do not even seem bothered by my weight." Louisa threaded her fingers together behind his neck as she trailed kisses along his throat. He could barely walk straight with such a distraction.

"That's because I'm not bothered by it." He shook his head, trying to keep his wits so they wouldn't fall over into the bushes that lined the gravel path to the servants' entrance.

"You might change your mind by the time we get to the house. It's a fairly long walk." He could feel her smile against his skin.

"I could carry you to your brother's and not be bothered."

She chuckled, soft and low. "I find myself doubting that."

"And I find myself offended you would doubt me."

Her fingers trailed across his chest, then up his neck and back into his hair. His vision blurred.

"You seem to be having some strain from my weight."

"That isn't from your weight, Duchess."

When they made it to the back door, Robert bore Louisa's weight with one arm as he turned the handle and slipped inside.

"Your Grace," Mrs. Powell gasped as they walked past the kitchen.

"Mrs. Powell, alert the house that we are home safe and sound. That will be all that is required."

She nodded wordlessly as he continued down the hall.

The darkness allowed him a moment to steal more kisses from his wife's soft lips as he walked them toward his library with measured steps. He only incurred a small stumble just at the door as Louisa snatched his ear between her lips.

"Careful," Louisa whispered, her breath tickling his skin. "We do not need you falling and dropping me."

Robert caught her lips again, smiling against them. He used his foot to shut the door behind them, then continued to the chaise by the unlit fireplace.

He placed Louisa on her feet, gripping her hand and pulling her along with him as he backed up to the chaise. Her eyes were heavy as she stared at him, her face and form glowing in the moonlight with her lips slightly swollen. Goodness, she was stunning. He tugged her closer, and he ran his hands along her back before they toppled together onto the chaise, her weight on top of him maddening. He didn't waste time, his fingers nimbly pulling the pins from her hair one by one and carelessly tossing them to the floor. He shook her hair out over her shoulders and buried his face in the loose, golden curls—breathing in the scent of roses, a faint lingering of the pub they had dined in, and fresh, crisp night air. He captured her mouth once more, sliding the soft strands of her hair through his fingers as his other hand gripped her waist.

The night began to blur, and it almost seemed as if they entered another realm of time. One in which it was only him and Louisa, and they couldn't be bothered by something as meaningless as the ticking of minutes on a clock.

"Louisa," he murmured amidst their kisses, one moment trailing his lips along her cheek and another relishing in the feel of her in his arms. Robert's heart about burst as Louisa showed him her true feelings with actions if not words, running her hands along his arms and clasping his face between her hands—just as desperate as he was for more.

A voice whispered in the back of his mind. What will tomorrow bring?

He forced the voice back, kissing his wife with a little more desperation than before.