He went pale, then red to his hairline with rage. “You will not speak of him further, do you understand me? Oh yes, I would be more distressed than your father if you killed me.”
“No, you would be dead and not feel a thing.”
She simply didn’t know that he’d overheard her and her father, so how could she possibly know why he was so damned angry? Maybe that was a good thing. He said, “You honestly feel fine now?”
“I feel ready to take on the world. I feel more than ready to take you on, my lord.”
“I am your husband. My name is Thomas. A wife doesn’t take on a husband, if you mean by that to start an argument with him.”
She realized they’d done nothing but argue since he’d shown himself in the doorway. She said slowly, “Actually, I was thinking about hitting you in the nose.”
He said nothing to that, very wise of him to keep quiet, she thought. He believed in some self-preservation.
She looked at him a moment, wrapped his dressing gown more closely about her, then said slowly, “Actually, I feel very sore between my legs. Does a man regard that as an accomplishment, something he’s expected to do on his wedding night?”
“Since you are not riding, you will be fine by evening. It is nothing. There is no accomplishment here. Last night simply happened. Don’t speak of it again.”
“You are an expert then. You have done this particular business many times, at least enough times to know that my pain was and is a mere bagatelle. I don’t suppose you experienced any distress from your splendid performance last night?”
He shook his head, but he was lying, of course. When he had broken her maidenhead, he’d wanted to scream at her and howl from the intense pleasure that filled him.
“I see. So you didn’t realize what you were doing? Neither the first time nor the second time? You didn’t hurt me either time on purpose?”
“Be quiet, Meggie. It’s over.”
She looked up at the ceiling. “God is letting me down here.”
“Sometimes God forgives actions when they are justified.”
“Whatever that means. Would you care to clarify that a bit?”
“I don’t wish to discuss it further.”
“Yes, yes, don’t mention anything a husband might find thorny. I must relieve myself. Go away.”
He looked as if he would say more, but he didn’t, just turned and closed the door quietly behind him.
“Thomas.”
At the sound of his name, he turned slowly.
She’d poked her head out the door. “Here.” She threw his dressing gown to him.
She closed the door, leaned against it, covering her bare breasts with her hands, and sighed. She saw that he had indeed washed most the blood out of her nightgown. She folded the nightgown into a small square and stuffed it into her valise. She planned to look at it quite often, a reminder that expectations were quite different from reality.
She was downstairs within the hour, her bonnet ribbons tied beside her left ear, her pale green muslin morning dress, freshly pressed by Ann, one of Mrs. Miggs’s daughters, and Mrs. Miggs herself assisted Meggie to dress, marveling over and over how splendidly hard Meggie’s head was when the good Lord knew she should be moaning this morning, still in bed, the covers pulled over her head.
Meggie assured Mrs. Miggs that she felt dandy. As a matter of fact, she looked young and fresh and very innocent. She smiled when she said good-bye to Mrs. Miggs and heard the lady say into her ear as she hugged her, “Do not kill him. You would hang and I would be unhappy. If I were unhappy, then Mr. Miggs would be unhappy as well because I would see that he was. Not as unhappy as your family, but still, there would be some active discomfort.”
“No, I won’t kill him, even though he refused to answer any questions. No, I have other plans for the clod,” Meggie said, gave her another quick hug, saw her new husband’s dark eyebrow raised at this affection between his wife and the innkeeper, and helped her into the carriage.