Page 51 of Cold November Rake

Still, it was obvious he didn't believe the pretense, though he hardly could turn Temperance away with her room in major disarray.

Now, he lay beneath the covers, unmoving.

Too rigid to be asleep, yet he didn't turn his head when she walked in.

Disappointment washed over her. He didn't care about seeing her at all. He was probably annoyed he had to accommodate her in his bed.

Temperance let out a breath and set her candle beside his on the nightstand. The two flames leaned toward each other, drawn by the same invisible current, and for a moment the room was brighter, warmer, the shadows retreating to the corners.

She doused the candles, plunging the room into darkness, then lifted the edge of the sheet and settled onto the far side of the bed, as far from him as the mattress would allow.

She could hear Sutton's breathing, slow and measured.

Full of nerves, and with nothing better to do, Temperance started counting his breaths.

One in, one out.

Two in, two out...

...hundred and thirty-three in⁠—

"Are you awake?"

Temperance started, the mattress shaking beneath her. She cleared her throat. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Sutton turned onto his side, facing her.

"Since we're sharing the bed anyway," he said, his voice even, "perhaps we should... resume our child-conceiving activities."

She turned toward him, his silhouette outlined against the dying embers of the fire.

"What about your wound?" she asked tentatively.

"The doctor removed the plasters today, and since the week has passed, and he did not repeat anything about avoiding exertion, I assume it will endure."

"It doesn't hurt?"

"It tugs a little, but I can be careful." He paused. "Unless... Unless you don't want to."

"No, I want to," she said quickly.

A little too quickly, betraying her eagerness.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

"And if it does hurt afterward," Sutton said, "you still have the laudanum, do you not?"

A smile touched her lips. "You are willing to risk drinking laudanum?"

"No." He shifted in bed. "I am just confident that it won't be needed."

Another pause.

"Very well," she conceded.

"Are you certain, because⁠—?"

"Yes, I am," she assured him. "I just don't want to be the reason you're in pain."