“No, no.” Her repetitions marked the deep excitement that possessed her. “I will go in with you.” And she signed with her head towards the door from which he was barely emerged.
“'Twere scarce fitting,” said he, for being confused and full of speculation on the score of her need, he had for the moment almost overlooked the relations in which they stood. In spite of the ceremony through which they had gone together, Mr. Wilding still mostly thought of her as of a mistress very difficult to woo.
“Fitting?” she echoed, and then after a pause, “Am I not your wife?” she asked him in a low voice, her cheeks crimsoning.
“Ha! 'Pon honour, I had almost forgot,” said he, and though the burden of his words seemed mocking, their tone was sad.
Of the passers-by that jostled them a couple had now paused to watch a scene that had an element of the unusual in it. She pulled her wimple closer to her face, took him by the arm, and drew him with her into the house.
“Close the door,” she bade him, and Trenchard, who had stood aside that they might pass in, forestalled him in obeying her. “Now lead me to your room, said she, and Wilding in amaze turned to Trenchard as if asking his consent, for the lodging, after all, was Trenchard's.
“I'll wait here,” said Nick, and waved his hand towards an oak bench that stood in the passage. “You had best make haste,” he urged his friend; “you are late already. That is, unless you are of a mind to set the lady's affairs before King Monmouth's. And were I in your place, Anthony, faith I'd not scruple to do it. For after all,” he added under his breath, “there's little choice in rotten apples.”
Ruth waited for some answer from Wilding that might suggest he was indifferent whether he went to Newlington's or not; but he spoke no word as he turned to lead the way above-stairs to the indifferent parlour which with the adjoining bedroom constituted Mr. Trenchard's lodging—and his own, for the time being.
Having assured herself that the curtains were closely drawn, she put by her cloak and hood, and stood revealed to him in the light of the three candles, burning in a branch upon the bare oak table, dazzlingly beautiful in her gown of ivory-white.
He stood apart, cogitating her with glowing eyes, the faintest smile between question and pleasure hovering about his thin mouth. He had closed the door, and stood in silence waiting for her to make known to him her pleasure.