Realizing how chilled she was, she cleaned herself up and pulled on all her clothes, including her redingote with the fur trim, gloves, and bonnet. Her anger had slowly ebbed while she did all of that, so when she climbed into bed she fell instantly asleep.
The next morning, sunlight crept over the windowsill and through the slats on the wooden shutters opposite her bed. Bridget covered her eyes with her gloved hand and rolled over with a groan. Memories from the night before flooded her brain. How in heaven’s name was she going to ride in a carriage with Cam without hurling insults and projectiles at his head?
In her heart, she knew her anger was hiding the enormous hurt at Cam’s casual mention of her not being a virgin and then refusing to believe her when she said she’d never lain with a man.
The experience had been so wonderful, she’d begun to hope that possibly a marriage between them would work. There were so many impressive things she’d learned about him since he’d first walked into the library at his Manor and she’d stunned him with her announcement that she was his ward. Then he had appeared arrogant, overbearing, and an arse.
It seemed as if her first impression of him had been correct, and he was all those things. That depressed her even more.
She climbed from the bed and looked at herself. If nothing else caused her a scandal, arriving back in London looking like she’d slept in her clothes—she chuckled, since she had slept in her clothes—would certainly set tongues wagging.
What a mess Davenport had created. She smoothed out her coat as best she could, removed her bonnet to comb her hair with her fingers, and pinned it up with the few pins she could find. A splash of water on her face and a quick brush of her teeth with her finger and she was ready to go.
Her stomach growled as she left the room and descended the stairs. Mrs. Trenton greeted her as she carried plates of food to diners at the tables in the common room. “Lord Campbell awaits you in the private dining room, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Bridget pushed open the door to see Cam sitting at a table, looking no better than her with a cup of coffee in front of him. He spotted her and stood. She crossed the room and took the seat across from him.
“Good morning.” His voice was raspy. Hopefully, he hadn’t had enough sleep either and would be nodding off on their trip back.
Instead of responding, she merely dipped her head in acknowledgment, too weary to pick the argument back up, and unable to say anything else with his cruel words and her deep hurt at the forefront of her mind. Mrs. Trenton had followed her in. “May I get you breakfast, my lady?”
“Yes. A full breakfast, please.” She didn’t care how undignified she appeared, eating like a working-class man, but she’d had no food since early the day before.
After Mrs. Trenton left the room, Cam cleared his throat. “I have rented a carriage for our trip back. As soon as we are through with breakfast we will begin our journey.”
“Very well.”
He added, “I have already spoken with the magistrate. Davenport will be escorted back to London to face charges.”
She nodded again.
“Are you not going to speak to me?”
“Eventually. Right now I need time.”
His lips tightened. “It will be a long day on the road. Once we arrive in London, I will have the driver go directly to the mews and slip you into my sister’s house from the back door. Hopefully, no one will see you enter, and we can avoid any additional gossip.”
Bridget rubbed her tired eyes as Mrs. Trenton returned with a plate full of potatoes, bacon, eggs, toast, tomatoes, and sausage. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered at the feast. Studying Cam’s stiff back as he left the room, she dug into her food.
After finishing her meal and enjoying a second cup of tea, she rose and made her way to the front of the inn. The common room held a few men nursing glasses of ale, but she’d seen no sign of the Ambrose family. She could just imagine how excited Lady Ambrose would be to return to London and spread the story of Bridget’s fall from grace. No doubt her two daughters were also anxious to create as much damage as they could.
With nothing more than the clothes on her back, there were no trunks or other items to be loaded onto the boot of the carriage. Cam held the door of the carriage open and extended his hand to help her in. Her pride would love more than anything to ignore his outstretched arm, but she would probably fall flat on her face getting into the vehicle and only cause embarrassment for herself.
After settling in with Cam across from her, he tapped on the roof of the carriage and they were off.
He shifted in his seat and tugged on the cuffs of his jacket. “We must speak about last night, Bridget.” They were barely on the road for more than ten minutes when the first arrow flew in her direction.
“I fail to see what there is to speak about, my lord.” She looked out the window, fascinated by the stark landscape with low clouds and bare trees.
“Whether you agree or not, we must marry.”
She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “Au contraire, my lord. We do not have to marry. I do not have to do anything I do not wish to do.”
“You are ruined.”
Bridget huffed. “According to you and your theory on missing body parts, I was already ruined.”
Cam ran his hand down his face. “Can we put that aside for now?”