Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“Truly, Rhys. I admire you. And I wish you’d allow yourself more credit for everything you’ve accomplished, instead of throwing it back on fate all the time.” She gave him a sly smile. “And to that end, I think I’ll honor you by hanging a plaque in the tavern, engraved with your name and rank. Our local war hero.”
He just laughed and rubbed his eyes. “There are all kinds of courage in the world, and most of it takes place far from battlefields.” His gaze caught hers, warm and honest. “That whole inn is a monument to your bravery, Meredith Lane Maddox. And I’m going to buy you every ribbon in Bath.”
Oh. A lump formed in her throat. And her heart … her heart just melted. It meant so much, that he recognized the hard work and love she’d poured into that place.
“What is it?” He leaned forward until his knees knocked against hers. “What’s troubling you?”
“I’m just a bit fatigued,” she lied.
He crossed to sit beside her, putting an arm about her shoulder and drawing her head to his chest. She breathed deeply, enjoying his comforting male scent.
“There, now,” he said. “Are you comfortable?”
She nodded.
“Then sleep. You’ve all day to rest.”
They fell into an easy, companionable silence, which somehow spoke more eloquently than any of their conversations. Impulsively, she reached out to take his free hand in hers. Their fingers tangled. His thumb settled over her wrist, and her pulse pounded against it. She couldn’t help but lean against him and snuggle into his warmth, under the guise of sleeping. But she was doing no such thing. She was wide awake, unwilling to miss a single moment. Scenery in entirely new shades of green was flitting by outside, and she might never have another chance to view it, but she couldn’t be bothered to lift her cheek from his lapel. Instead, she closed her eyes, scrupulously memorizing each sensation he caused within her. Every yearning, every thrill, every ache.
This, too, was the experience of a lifetime.
Chapter Fifteen
With dry roads in their favor, they reached Bath just as the late summer sun kissed the horizon. Rhys was well pleased with the fair weather, and with his fair companion. Meredith remained pasted to the window as they drove through the city, eyes wide and lips parted. As though it were not enough to look her fill of the surrounding landscape—she must drink and breathe it, too.
He watched her as intently as she watched the scenery rolling past, smiling to himself all the while.
When they arrived at the hotel, he was forced to abandon the pleasant occupation of noting her every gasp of wonder and reluctant blink. After procuring the finest suite of rooms, as previously arranged, he directed the footmen to unload the valises. He reserved for himself the pleasure of handing Meredith down from the coach.
“Good heavens,” she breathed, staring up at the hotel’s Roman-styled façade, all Bath stone columns and carved balustrades.
“It gets even better inside.”
She said not a word as a servant led them through the entrance hall, up a carpeted staircase, and down to the very end of the corridor. Rhys allowed her to pass through the door first, then followed her into the suite. The servants followed soon thereafter, and he exchanged a few words with them as they deposited the baggage.
Once they’d left, he turned to Meredith. There she stood in the center of the sitting room, a smudge of gray wool and dark hair against the cream-colored walls and carpet. She just remained there, perfectly still, hands clasped and eyes wide. Silent.
Rhys frowned. Her amazement had been entertaining to view earlier, but this continued silence was beginning to concern him. “Merry? Are you well?”
She shook her head. “I may cry.”
He hesitated. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s terrible.” She swallowed hard, then pressed both hands to her cheeks as she tilted her neck to view the elaborate carved ceiling.
He took a step toward her. “Is there something wrong with the rooms?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “Nothing. That’s the problem.”
Now he was thoroughly confused.
She finally took pity on him and explained. “Rhys, this suite is … stunning. Elegant. Palatial. It’s enough to throw me into abject despair. If these are the sort of accommodations to which people of rank are accustomed, how can I ever hope to appease them at the Three Hounds? Why, one of the inn’s new bedchambers would likely fit in that closet!”
“That’s not true.”
“That’s not the point.” Sniffing, she turned to him. “Just look at this place. How can the inn ever hope to compete with establishments such as these?”
So. The superior quality of the place had her upset, not some deficiency. Smiling with relief, he crossed to her side and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t you worry. You’re not competing with establishments like this one. This is one of the grandest hotels in all England. A resort for the country’s wealthiest lords and ladies. The Three Hounds is a coaching inn. Even the nobility have modest expectations when it comes to coaching inns.”