“Alas, there are no other empty beds in the house. I would, of course, give up mine if your lordship were to insist—”

“No, no.” Dare waved the offer away and, taking a candle, staggered into his darkened bedchamber. The scent of burned linen was still heavy in the air despite the open window. He ignored the empty bed frame that sat hulking in the corner of the room and headed for the small red chaise now swathed in white linens.

“If I might suggest,” Batsfoam said from the doorway to the dressing room, “my lady was saying only this morning how very soft and comfortable her bed was. I am sure she would be willing to share—”

“Thank you, Batsfoam, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine on the chaise. Good night.”

“Good night, my lord. And might I wish you a pleasant and comfortable sleep?”

Dare mumbled something and collapsed onto the chaise, snuffing out the candle with an exhausted groan. The door clicked softly behind Batsfoam as Dare rolled onto his back, then onto his side, trying to find a comfortable position. He either had to lay with his legs crooked at an angle that he knew would become painful after a few minutes, or curl up with his knees bent, which would no doubt end up in leg cramps. He sighed and turned onto the other side, trying to prop the excess in his legs up on the chaise arm, but that just drove his side into the seat of the chaise.

“What is this thing stuffed with, gravel?” he grumbled as he switched ends in an attempt to find a spot that did not have sharp, pointy things digging into his flesh. Why on earth had he bought the blighted thing? Why had he never sat on it to ensure it wasn’t lethal to human flesh? And who in their right mind would make such a devilish piece of furniture?

Visions of an inviting, comfortable, nonlumpy bed danced in his mind. Charlotte had such a bed. She wouldn’t mind him using it, either. Truthfully, she’d probably be delighted, but it was the form her delight would take that had him turning again to find a comfortable spot. Better he should sleep all cramped and uncomfortable than to risk her seducing him again. After that episode in the carriage, and a day spent trying not to think about her, he knew he would not be able to resist the lure of her sweetly scented flesh.

A sharp stab to his kidney regions was the final straw.

“Damnation!” he snarled as he sat up, grabbing his dressing gown and shoving his arms into the sleeves as he stalked toward Charlotte’s room. He had to get some sleep. He had to work twice as hard to make up for the lost time Charlotte’s visit to the work room had cost him. If he was very quiet, and didn’t disturb his wife, perhaps he could slip into her bed and get the few hours of sleep he needed. He didn’t need much sleep, he thought groggily as he felt his way through the darkened room to the far side of the bed, just a little sleep, just enough so he could work without falling asleep.