After the Wedding (The Worth Saga #2)(20)

She was breathing heavily, and he didn’t think it was from just the exertion. This couldn’t be any easier for her than it was for him. In some ways, it might be worse. No matter how she felt, he seriously doubted she had wanted to be married at gunpoint.

Don’t get mad at the cards, he reminded himself. Miss Winters was no doubt a card, one who hadn’t wanted to be dealt in such a cavalier fashion.

“Mr. Hunter?” she asked. He could hear the query in her voice.

Well. He wasn’t going to pretend he was happy. “I suppose this…is what it is. We’ll have to figure this mess out.”

She said nothing to that, but her jaw worked.

“Do you need any help carrying that?”

Her hands clutched tightly around the handle of her valise. “No, thank you. I can manage on my own.”

Her shoulders were trembling.

“Are you certain?” he asked dubiously. “Because—”

“It’s no trouble at all.” She laughed unconvincingly. “Really, I’m very strong. I don’t intend to be a burden on you, not ever, and certainly not right from the start. I promise.”

“Not to contradict you,” Adrian said slowly, “but you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep. You are already a burden on me.”

She winced. The moon overhead flirted with a ragged cloud; the dim light flickered patchily across her face. Her head bowed. “Of course you’re right.” Her voice trembled almost as much as her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I spoke. I meant only that I didn’t wish to be more of a burden on you. I’m sure you must be worrying about that.”

He reached out and took the handle of her valise. “That’s not what I meant. I had been thinking we were equally a burden on each other.”

Their eyes met for an instant, and he wondered what she was thinking. They were married—not really; he would have to explain—and he had no idea what she expected. Did she think they were going to become husband and wife immediately? Did she expect them to fall into bed? Did she think that she would have to pretend joy for such a consummation when they scarcely knew one another? When she’d been forced as well as him?

She was pretty and he’d liked talking to her, but that would be unthinkable. He felt sick for them both.

Miss Winters looked away first. “That’s very kind of you, but we both know there is no equality here. You had a prestigious position as a valet with a highly respected member of society. I interrupted your employment.”

He didn’t think she was lying. He didn’t think she wished him ill. Grayson would say he was being too trusting again, but the entire point of this exercise had been to demonstrate that trust was warranted. No. If Adrian had failed here, it was by not trusting enough. Just look at what he had thought to himself before—that it was no business of his if maids received full pay, that he’d finish his matters and move on, and never mind what that meant for Miss Winters.

He’d ignored the stirrings of his conscience. Look where that had brought him—to this moment on the road, the two of them not watching each other, not knowing what was going on.

This mess wasn’t going to resolve itself in the next minute. “Have you eaten?”

“There’s no need to worry about that. I’m not hungry.”

“That’s not an answer. I was locked in the basement after the events of this morning with nothing to eat. I’m utterly famished. Did they give you anything?”

A long pause.

“That’s a no, then. Well.” Adrian spoke with a cheeriness he did not feel. “That makes the next hour easy. You can’t make battle plans on an empty stomach, not unless you want to end up attacking a bakery instead of your intended target.”

Her lips twitched in a fleeting smile. “Battle plans? Are we at war, then?”

Too trusting?

No. Grayson had it wrong.

Adrian had not been trusting enough.

“Yes.” He pulled her valise toward him. “I have been for a while, actually. Bishop Lassiter and Rector Miles are our enemies. I’ll explain everything over supper. There’s an inn not far from here.”

She did not let go of the handle. “I—I can’t. My funds are limited, to say the least. I have tried to be careful with my coin, but…”

“But Rector Miles has been underpaying you,” Adrian finished for her, “and you’re only human, and you need shoes and the occasional biscuit and hair ribbon.”

She blinked, and in that moment her grip on the valise loosened.

“I told you he was the enemy.” Adrian eased the luggage from her grasp. “Money is not our problem.” He set her bag down long enough to dig in his waistcoat pocket. “Here.”

He held out his hand; she took the coin from him almost without thinking, and then looked up in him in incredulity. “But—Mr. Hunter, I can’t possibly take this.”

“Yes, you can. In fact…” His mind was already racing ahead to the inn, to the evening, and how everything would have to play out. “In fact, you must. We haven’t any choice, not if we’re going to undo what just happened. I’ll explain everything over supper tonight, but you’ll need your own funds to pay for your dinner and a separate room. People will ask questions if I do it.”