“What is it you want, Evie?”
She uncrossed her arms. “To have my ideas, my concerns, and my questions taken seriously.”
“I do take them seriously.”
“Bollocks,” she snapped, and refused to feel guilty for being vulgar. “You ask personal questions but refuse to answer any in return. You haven’t listened to a thing I’ve said about this ruse—”
“I have. I don’t agree with what I’ve heard, but I’ve listened.”
She threw up her hands. “Well, how am I to tell? You won’t speak.”
“I’m speaking now,” he pointed out.
“Yes, you are, but who’s to say when you will again? I don’t care to be at such a disadvantage, and your taciturn disposition combined with your insistence on my being forthcoming on every bit of information you deem of interest, most certainly puts me at a disadvantage.”
He cocked his head, considering.
“Well?” she prompted.
“I’m trying to puzzle out how one can be simultaneously taciturn and insistent.”
He had a point, but she was sure little good would come from admitting it, particularly as it wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “That may be the longest sentence you’ve ever uttered in my presence.”
“I suspect it is.” He ran his knuckles across his jaw, keeping his eyes on her. “I am unaccustomed to conversation.”
He wasn’t just unaccustomed, she realized; he was uncomfortable. Guilt niggled at her conscience and had her fingers working into the folds of her wrap. “Yes, of course. And I am sorry to make such an issue of it, but we cannot keep on this way.”
He nodded once. “I will attempt to be more vocal.”
“Thank you.” She relaxed her fingers and offered him a smile.
He didn’t offer one in return. “In exchange, you will adhere to the safety precautions I set, without complaint.”
“I…I’ll adhere to them…but I reserve the right to complain.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed, and this time, his lips curved just a hair. He rose and held out a hand to help her up. “You need to sleep. We’ve a long day tomorrow.”
Evie would have needed to sleep if they’d had nothing more grueling than a full day of napping planned for tomorrow. She couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted. While McAlistair put out the candles, she crawled into bed, sighing at the exquisite feel of soft sheets and plump pillows. She was under the covers and her lids already drooping when he pulled off the extra blanket folded at her feet and tossed it on the floor.
She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Going to bed.”
It bothered her to think of him sleeping on the unforgiving wooden floor while she stretched out on an enormous feather mattress. It seemed terribly unfair and a little absurd, given that they’d slept side by side the night before.
“There’s no reason for you to sleep on the floor when there’s plenty of room on the bed.”
“Floor will do.” He grabbed a pillow and tossed it on the blanket.
“If it’s the proximity that troubles you, I should like to point out that last night—”
“I know,” he fairly growled.
She bit her lip, wary of his gruff tone, but unwilling to let the matter drop. “There are households where the entire family sleeps in one bed—if they’re lucky enough to have one. The children, mother, father—”
“Mother and father. They’re married.”
“Usually. And tonight we are as well. Moreover, what if one of the maids were to come in?”
“The door is locked.”
“Yes, but there are keys, aren’t there? And it’s customary for someone to come in the morning and light—”
“She’ll knock first.”
“But what if you don’t wake, and—”
“I’ll wake.”
It was impossible to argue with that sort of arrogance. “What if…Couldn’t you…” Her tired mind struggled to come up with another reason for him to take the bed.
McAlistair stepped closer to the bed, his voice turning gentle. “What is it, Evie? Are you frightened?”
She sent him a dry look. It may have been more convenient to tell him yes, she was very afraid, but she had her pride. “My greatest fear at the moment is that you’ll wake up stiff, sore, and cranky. Cranky individuals make for unpleasant traveling companions.”
“Yes, I know,” he said wryly.
She smiled around a yawn. She’d deserved that small jab. And he deserved the truth, she decided. There wasn’t a good reason for her to be dissembling. She wasn’t certain as to why she was, except that admitting it bothered her felt too similar to admitting she cared, and that made her feel vulnerable.
She picked at a small tear in her blanket. “I…I don’t care for the idea that you’re to be down there on the hard floor whilst I’ve all this room up here.”
“Trade?”
“No,” she replied without a second’s thought. “I’m not the one being stubborn.”
His lips curled up in humor. “It honestly bothers you?”