had planned a picnic, but the rain had made it impossible. Carter had been pleased with her alternate plan of staying inside. They had enjoyed the food and the wine and the antics of her puppy, Lancelot, along with some congenial conversation.
They had laughed and flirted with each other. Carter had kissed her. Or did she kiss him? Either way, the velvety softness of his lips upon her skin had been a sensual delight. Dorothea vividly remembered responding to those kisses with her own passion and then…and then…?
Had they made love? Drat, she couldn’t remember. She moved her legs restlessly beneath the sheets, waiting to feel any physical evidence, but there was none. Sighing with relief, she rolled to her side. It would have been beyond awful to have made love with Carter for only the second time in their marriage and not remember a single detail.
There was a knock and then the bedchamber door opened. Dorothea sank beneath the sheets in total embarrassment. Yet through a wave of nausea she saw it was her maid, Sarah, who had entered the room. Not, thank the good Lord, Carter.
“Did you have a nice rest, my lady?” Sarah asked as she threw the draperies open wide.
Dorothea instantly shut her eyes as the light caused a dull pain to burn inside her head. “Is there any water?” she managed to croak.
It took but a moment for a large glass to be poured and brought to her. Grateful for Sarah’s naturally quiet demeanor, Dorothea soaked in the silence and gulped down her water. The cool liquid calmed her rolling stomach and helped to keep the room from spinning. She accepted a second glass, finished that, and then tried to prepare herself to leave the bed.
Standing upright was challenging, but possible. Taking several deep breaths to steady herself, Dorothea managed to swing her legs toward the floor and then stand on them. Clutching the bedpost, she staggered a few steps, then swallowed again deeply.
Sarah, bless her heart, said not a word, acting as if seeing her mistress in such a pitiful state was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Is Lord Atwood about?” Dorothea asked.
“No, my lady. He’s gone off with Mr. Higgins. He left right after you came upstairs to nap.”
“I see.” Dorothea tried to smile, but she was breathing too hard. Her efforts to stay upright and clearheaded were a great strain and a battle she feared she might be losing. She was fairly certain Mr. Higgins was the estate’s steward, but her cloudy mind was unsure. Still, the effort to inquire seemed far too exhausting, so Dorothea kept silent.
“Shall I have a hot bath prepared?” Sarah suggested.
A bath! What a perfectly marvelous notion. Dorothea shook her head eagerly, then winced as the pain shot down to her teeth. My goodness, even her hair hurt. “A bath sounds like heaven.”
With a knowing look, but a silent tongue, Sarah made the arrangements. Dorothea gratefully soaked in the hot water until it began to cool, then with the maid’s assistance gingerly stepped from the tub. Feeling infinitely more human, she instructed Sarah to plait her hair. Dorothea paired her simple silk evening gown of bright blue with a filigree gold necklace and matching earbobs that had belonged to her mother, and at last felt ready to go down to dinner.
She arrived in the drawing room in a mild state of panic, concerned with how Carter would react. Would he pretend her drunken behavior earlier in the day had never occurred? Would he chastise her? Or be overtly disapproving?
Husbands unfairly had the right to dictate their wife’s behavior and today’s incident had the potential to bring on a lively discord. Dorothea was unsure if her nerves and recently sore head could tolerate a long lecture.
She asked the footman hovering outside the drawing room door to please refrain from announcing her and instead slipped quietly into the room. Carter was already there, dressed in formal black evening clothes, looking wildly handsome. Her heart did its customary jump.
“Ah, Dorothea, how nice to see you. I was unsure you would be coming to dinner tonight.”
“Good evening, Carter.” Dorothea swallowed down her nerves and told herself to act nonchalant. It seemed the best way to get her feet to move forward. “I apologize for being so late. I hope you aren’t too famished.”
“Actually, I ate dinner earlier with Mr. Higgins. We had a great deal of business to discuss. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
“I can join you at the table while you have your meal,” he offered.
“Actually, I’d prefer to have a light respite served in here.”
Carter nodded, then rang for a servant and relayed her request. “Oh, and be sure to bring tea with her ladyship’s food. A large, hot pot of tea.”
Dorothea stiffened her spine and told herself that was not the edges of a smile she saw on her husband’s face when he requested her tea. Though in truth, strong black coffee might have been a better choice. They made polite conversation as her meal was brought and laid out and the awkward tension pervading the air soon lifted.
Feeling like one of the stray birds Gwendolyn used to eagerly collect and care for when they were children, Dorothea took very small, dainty bites of her dinner. She avoided anything that had a sauce, was laden with excess butter or heavily spiced, opting for the plainer fare.
Thankfully, it all settled well in her stomach. As she emptied her teacup for the third time, she realized her husband’s gaze was intently fixed upon her. Lifting the linen napkin from her lap, Dorothea carefully dabbed at the corners of her mouth, then tilted her chin and met his eyes squarely.
“Better?” he asked with sympathy.
“Infinitely.” Feeling she needed to say something more, she added quietly, “I don’t normally drink that much wine. A glass usually, two at most.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. For a moment I worried with you in my household the bills from the wine merchants might beggar me.”
“Don’t be cruel, my lord,” she warned, though she smiled into her cup of tea.
He slid a look her way and winked. Oh, he was a sly one. A sly, sexy one. She shivered. “Shall we play some cards tonight?”
“Why not? Whist?”
She nodded. He produced a deck and beckoned her to the other side of the room. Dorothea waited as he opened the gaming table, then took the chair opposite his, reached for the cards, and idly shuffled the deck. “Shall we wager on the game or play for the fun of it?”
“Fun,” he said deliberately. “Your fingers are far too nimble with those cards, my dear. I fear if we play for money I shall be fleeced.”
Dorothea smiled. “Lord Dardington taught me.”
“That explains a lot. I heard he was quite the shark in his day.”
She nodded. “He is amazingly adept. When I first came to London he discouraged me from playing, declaring it a foolish waste of time and money.”
Carter picked up the cards she dealt him and casually arranged them in his hand. “And yet he still taught you?”
“He insisted. There are card games at nearly every society function, well, except for when one attends the theatre, and Lord Dardington had the good sense to realize I was not always going to listen to his and Lady Meredith’s advice. Therefore, if I was going to be exposed to card games, I should know how to play. And win.”
“I thank you for the warning. I shall be on my guard tonight.”
Dorothea laughed. She discarded two cards and drew two more. “I have a very strong suspicion that you are far from inexperienced in this area.”
His lips curled into a smile. “My idle, misspent youth has come back to haunt me.”
“I believe your card playing is far more recent than your long-ago misspent youth,” Dorothea answered, her suspicions confirmed when he placed his cards face up on the table. Three kings. A winning hand.
Carter paused, his expression one of mocking horror. “Are you saying that I am old, Lady Atwood?”
“Well, not as old as some.” She gave him a cocky grin, put the newly shuffled deck in the center of the table, and waited for him to cut the cards.
