6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

W ill barely knew her, but it hadn’t stopped him from obsessing over every word Adelaide had said to him during their brief sojourn by the creek.

You don’t even know me.

There had been many times during his life that he had wished for different circumstances. When his father died. When he lost his chance to attend Cambridge. When his mother moved to Bristol with a friend, hoping Will would finally pursue an opportunity for himself.

But none created a gulf in his chest like knowing Adelaide would soon leave his company. Hearing her speak of her betrothed scraped at old wounds, pressed a bruise he’d thought was long-healed. A woman like her belonged with an educated man, a man with credibility and the esteem of his peers.

He pursed his lips and chastised himself. Soon he’d be free of the distracting lady and able to focus on his apprenticeship, the first step in his plans to expand his shop in Wilmslow, to find some purpose in his life. But he couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his thoughts whispering that he was missing something, that some essential component for his happiness remained absent.

Whatever was missing, he would not find it at this inn. The windows of the Goose and the Grape blazed brightly as their carriage rolled into the stable yard, and Will’s chest eased at the sight. Bumbletwit must have arranged for the chaperone and driver to take Adelaide to Barrington by now. He would hand her over to the care of someone else, someone far more capable of managing the affairs of the intriguing heiress. Even if the notion of turning his back on her made his stomach twist.

The afternoon heat clung stubbornly to the air despite the late hour, and Will’s parched throat ached for a crisp ale. But as the carriage wheels ground to a halt, an unpleasant tension settled on his shoulders. Discarded bottles and the butts of cigars sprung up between tall grass and untended weeds in the courtyard. Two men leaning against the stable door watched the arriving coach with an avaricious gleam in their eyes, one pausing to stub out his cigarette on the heel of his boot.

Will climbed down from the bench to tie off the horse, waving away the loitering men. He threw the bag with his paltry belongings over his shoulder and unstrapped Adelaide’s trunk before knocking on the carriage door.

Her eyes were softened with sleep, and loose golden locks curled around her cheeks and neck. He counted several breaths before he was certain he could speak an intelligible sentence. “Come inside with me. I want to be sure a suitable chaperone is here before I leave you alone.”

Her full lips flattened before she nodded wordlessly. He had no need for her to respond, aside from his desperation for the sound of her voice. So he took her hand for as short a time as possible, helping her down from the coach and staying close by her side as they entered the inn.

The dual scents of stale alcohol and unwashed male assaulted his nose the moment he opened the door, accompanied by the tense rumblings of conversation moments from becoming an argument. Half a dozen men gathered around a table tossing cards while others lurked in the shadows, either drinking alone or entertaining a woman in their laps. Will resisted the urge to tug Adelaide closer by fisting his hands, then moved so his shoulder was just behind hers as they approached the bar.

He cleared his throat to get the man’s attention. “I’m here to meet someone sent by a Mr. Bumbletwit.” Surely Bumbletwit’s replacement wasn’t one of the men gambling or carousing in the corners.

The barkeep did not pause in wiping down glasses with a rag that was only made them dirtier. “Haven’t heard from Bumbletwit today. Only have our regulars tonight.”

He looked around as his stomach twisted. “Is this the only inn in Saltford?”

“Yes.” The man’s expression darkened. “Not fine enough for you?”

Will’s jaw ticked. More complication, more delay. He’d hoped to find the chaperone immediately and set off to his new shop, removing himself from Adelaide’s tempting company before he did something foolish like push up her skirts to see if the pale skin of her calves was as soft as it looked, or if her thighs would be dimpled, the flesh giving beneath his hands. He’d been too frightened for her welfare when he’d carried her from the carriage to appreciate the sight of her bare legs, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about her.

Focus, Will. “Do you have any beds available?”

The barkeep nodded absently. “Aye, but only one.”

Adelaide choked on a laugh. “Only one bed?”

What were the chances of—

“Wait,” he chuckled. “I have beds. Plenty of ’em. Just wanted to give you a chuckle.”

Will did not laugh. The coins in his bag seemed heavier, a reminder that he had a job to do, a responsibility. “I want your finest room for my…”

He glanced down at Adelaide, who stared back with a divot between her brows.

“For my sister,” he finished.

The man smirked. “Your sister , aye? And you’ll be forced to share a room with ’er?”

“No,” he barked before he second-guessed himself. “A simpler room for me.” Normally he’d volunteer to sleep in the stable on his bedroll, but the idea of leaving Adelaide alone in this place made his skin crawl.

“Splendid,” he drawled before he turned and shouted something unintelligible towards the kitchen. A moment passed before a woman emerged in a flurry of movement, her white hair piled impossibly high and her weathered face pinched, as though she’d been interrupted from a matter of the greatest importance to serve them. “Mum ’ere will get you set up. The guests are her domain, no’ mine.”

Mum spoke not a word as she led them through the taproom and up a narrow staircase. The second level of the Goose and the Grape may have been in a different edifice from the downstairs; electric sconces bathed the hallway in warm light that reflected off the polished wooden floors. A shining number 1 marked the first room on the left, and the lady stopped to unlock the door, shoving it open with a flourish.

“Fancy a bath, miss?” she asked in a surprisingly rich voice, and Adelaide’s lips spread into a grateful smile.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” She glanced at Will. “And one for him as well?”

Will did his best to shake off the image of Adelaide in the bath in time to see the old woman roll her eyes. “I’ll see what I can arrange.” She lifted her chin towards the door opposite and shoved a key in his direction. “That one’s yours.”

“And supper for the lady,” he managed. The woman made a grumbled sound of assent, and some measure of worry eased from his body. While the setting might not be ideal, at least he’d arranged shelter for her, kept her fed and safe until her chaperone arrived.

He hefted her trunk into her room, pleased to see the mattress looked of decent quality and had clean linens. If his chamber had a fraction of the meager luxury of hers, Will would get the best night of sleep he’d had in years.

Perfect for starting his new life, unencumbered by caring for his mother and now Adelaide.

His mouth twisted. He didn’t like that thought at all.

“Are you well?”

Will blinked to see her watching him, her head tilted quizzically. “Fine,” he said. “Tired. You must be as well.”

She nodded, bit her lower lip, and heat rushed to his cock so swiftly his knees nearly buckled. What he’d give to taste that lip, to nip and suck, to sweep his tongue over the swollen flesh and soothe it.

“I—I’ll leave you to it, then,” he croaked, stumbling as he retreated. “Lock the door behind me, and don’t open it for anyone,” he said over his shoulder.

“Not even you?”

His heart stopped. Was that an invitation? If he were to push her back onto the bed, lift her dress and bury his head between her thighs until she was trembling and limp from pleasure, would she welcome it? Would she welcome him?

“No, Miss Kimball,” he rasped, shutting down the fantasy before it became too vivid. Blast, it was too late for that. “Not even for me.”