could play a musical instrument. How she took her tea.
But they were minor, of no real import. At her core, he knew her. Despite her crimes, he believed in her intrinsic goodness. She was not unkind or unfeeling. She cared deeply for those who had her trust, and she would defend those lucky enough to be in her inner circle to the death.
She would have made a bloody good soldier.
He couldn’t wait to learn all the tiny inconsequential things about her. Things that would doubtless drive him mad, or fascinate him, or delight him in equal measure.
She was pragmatic, a realist. She wouldn’t refuse him. She would recognize that this was the best option available to her. The one that would cause her family the least amount of distress.
He supposed it could be called a marriage of convenience—at least for her. He’d always thought that a singularly stupid phrase. Everything about the woman was inconvenient.
His own family would doubtless say he’d made a dreadful mésalliance, but he had a reputation for doing things out of the ordinary. This might well prove to be his greatest scandal yet. They’d recovered from the disgrace of him owning a gambling club, however. They would recover from this. His father had been after him for ages to settle down and start providing him with grandchildren. And besides, who cared what anyone else thought? He wanted Emmy, with that clever mind and tart mouth. He could do far worse for a wife.
Maybe marriage would be good for him. He’d seen a change in Benedict since he’d married his Georgiana. He was happier, more settled, as if Georgie had added an extra dimension to his life that had been missing.
Alex had grown so accustomed to living with partial sight that he was barely conscious of the lack. But what if he suddenly regained his complete field of vision? Maybe marriage was like that? Like gaining something you never knew you’d been missing and finding your life immeasurably richer because of it. He prayed it would be so.
“You don’t seem to be much of a morning person, Harland.”
Emmy’s amused greeting jolted him from his thoughts, and he realized with some chagrin that he’d just been staring at her like an idiot for the past few minutes.
“Morning,” he croaked. His voice was almost an octave lower from sleep, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Morning, Miss Danvers. I trust you slept well.”
He took pleasure in the delicate pink flush that warmed her cheeks. He didn’t think he’d ever tire of embarrassing her. He ran his fingers through his hair, then over his jaw, testing the need for a shave, which was a pointless move considering he didn’t have a razor with him and there was no way he’d trust a blade provided by this establishment. It would probably be rusty and blunt. He’d slice his own ear off.
“We should go,” she said briskly. “We need to get back to London so you can organize your ambush for Danton. We don’t have much time.” She glanced away from his bare chest and looked out of the window with a worried frown. “What shall we do about the carriage? I doubt we’ll be able to find a wheelwright who can fix it in time. I can’t ride all the way back to London.”
Alex flipped back the covers and put his feet on the floor. She kept her gaze primly averted. He suppressed a smile. He found his breeches and tugged them on, along with his stockings and shirt. His boots were a disaster. Though dry, they were almost impossible to pull on, but he managed it at last and turned to her.
“I’ll go down to the taproom and see if there’s anything to eat for breakfast. And I’ll enquire about hiring a vehicle of some sort.”
He made a point of looking inside the jewel box to make sure it was still full, and she sent him a withering look.
“Do you really think I’ve had time to hide them somewhere?”
He hefted the box in his arms and gave her a charming smile. “Better safe than sorry. I know the dangers of underestimating you, my love. You should be flattered.”
She sniffed, only partly mollified.
He paused, one hand on the doorknob, and looked back at her. “Don’t worry about Danton. I spoke to Seb—Lord Mowbray—before we left and told him to be ready. Believe me, this isn’t the first ambush we’ve ever set. Get dressed. Come down when you’re ready.”