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Rupert was in love.
Utterly, completely in love.
His heart had never threatened to soar from his chest before.
Birds chirped about them as the carriage moved through the verdant countryside. Aria rested her head on his shoulder and slept.
A few carriages passed by. Rupert smiled at the drivers, and they smiled back. Happiness bounced through him.
Aria smiled at him, and the whole world was perfect.
“I want to kiss you again,” he said, his voice husky.
She didn’t look away, and she didn’t raise her eyebrows. Instead, her eyes shimmered, and she leaned forward.
The next moment after that, he claimed her lips with his own.
The sun began its downward descent, and Rupert looked for a public house in which they could rest.
Finally, a half-timbered house appeared. Red and pink flowers shimmered from painted flower boxes, and Rupert parked the carriage. A small dog ran around, wagging its tail.
Galileo began to bark.
For a moment, Rupert stiffened, remembering their experience at the first public house. A friendly-looking man, though, only gave a broad beam. “Welcome. Your dog is adorable.”
“Thank you,” Rupert said. “It actually belongs to—er—”
The man’s gaze drifted to Aria. “Your wife?”
The word made Rupert’s heart clench. This wasn’t the first time Rupert had said he was married to Aria. They’d decided people were far more likely to welcome a married couple than an unmarried one. It was, though, the first time he’d heard her referred to as his wife.
If only...
If only she was his wife. If only they were exactly what they appeared: a quite normal married couple visiting London.
He nodded.
“Are you eating, or would you like a room?” the man asked.
“The pets are no problem?”
“We love pets here,” the man said.
Rupert smiled. “Then we will spend the night.”
He woke Aria up gently, and they walked inside with Galileo and Lady Octavia.
The public house did not look busy.
“Have a seat,” Rupert said, gesturing to a comfortable bench decorated with pillows, and Aria did so.
Rupert approached the barmaid. “We’d like your very best room,” Rupert said.
The barmaid raised her eyebrows. “Indeed?”
Rupert nodded, and he had the horrible sense he was smiling far too much than the action of procuring a room necessitated.
Still.
Happiness rang through him. He would be spending the night with Aria. And even if they did nothing more than sleep, she would be beside him.
“Well, luckily, we do have our best room available,” the barmaid said.
“Splendid.” Rupert glanced toward the people eating, then turned back to her. “We would like to eat something first.”
She nodded. “Very well.”
“But perhaps—” He hesitated.
She leaned toward him.
“Perhaps we could make certain the room is exceptionally nice,” Rupert said finally.
“I’m not recleaning it.” The barmaid crossed her arms. “It’s already my least favorite task.”
She wrinkled her nose, as if to emphasize her distaste.
“No, no,” Rupert said. “I was actually thinking about...flowers.”
The barmaid burst into a wide grin. “You are romantic.” She leaned closer. “Is she beautiful?”
Rupert nodded, his smile widening.
“I will sprinkle flower petals around the room,” the barmaid promised.
Rupert smiled. “Thank you.”
Aria and he ate dinner.
“How far are we from London?” Aria asked.
“We should be there in three more days,” Rupert said.
Aria tilted her head. “How many nights?”
“Two.” She nodded, but there was a certain somberness to it.
He took her hands in his. “I would take you to Gretna Green if I could.”
“It’s not destined,” she said softly. “Let’s enjoy the remainder of our time together.”
Rupert nodded.
Finally, they finished eating. The barmaid handed him the key to their room and winked.
They strode upstairs, then Rupert entered the room.
Someone was here. Rupert’s heartbeat quickened, but the sound of heavy breathing was unmistakable.
Perhaps it was someone from the tavern.
“Who is this?” Rupert called out.
No maid chirped a cheerful response.
But then what maid would stand in darkness?
Had someone figured out where they were? The duke.
Tension moved through Rupert. It must be the duke or one of his minions.
“We’re not alone,” he whispered.
Aria widened her eyes.
Rupert needed to be brave for her. He opened the door again, so light drifted through it and grabbed a nearby candlestick.
Once he saw the man, he quivered. A candlestick might not be sufficient defense. The man loomed, his large size not obscured even by the shadows.
Galileo wagged his tail, his tongue hanging out in a joyful way as if he were about to get fed, and not as if he risked seeing his mistress be murdered. Lady Octavia let out a far more appropriate hiss. Rupert would have to remember to give her extra fish tomorrow.
If he survived.
The shadow lumbered toward him, and hairs he didn’t know he had on his back prickled.
“Stay away!” He shoved Aria from the room.
Heavy footsteps thundered toward him, matching the ever-quickening beats of his heart.
Someone was definitely here.
Someone who shouldn’t be here.
It wasn’t the duke. The duke did not match this stranger’s muscularity. Perhaps the duke had hired someone to find him.
Galileo continued to bark. Oddly, the barks seemed...cheerful.