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Authors: Bronwen Evans
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maybe Maitland didn’t want her.
No,
she inwardly scoffed. He was simply being a gentleman. It did cross her mind that her brother might have said something to him. They did seem to be having a serious conversation prior to her leaving home.
Ten minutes later she was ensconced in a soothing tub of hot scented water. Yet her bath did nothing to unscramble her confusion. Was it not cowardly to hide from her husband in her room? What must he think of her? If Sebastian had interfered and warned Maitland off, she’d skin him alive. Her marriage was between herself and Maitland.
If, as Maitland suggested, they waited until they knew each other better, would the enormity of the event just build up to gargantuan proportions? What would it be like to lie with him? To experience all the fire he hid under the ice? She’d had a taste and it was not unpleasant. She moved restlessly in the water. Her body remembered the feel of his as he had kissed her, stroking his large hands over her skin and igniting need deep inside of her.
Perhaps she should reevaluate her decision to play the coward tonight. She laid her head back on the edge of the bath and closed her eyes. She
was
tired, but the knowledge that her husband lay alone in the room next door left her with butterflies in her stomach.
He might be lying there wondering what she was doing. He might be dreaming of her.
“Let me help you out of the tub, Your Grace, before you get too wrinkly. You want to look beautiful for your husband.”
Susan, her lady’s maid, had agreed to come with Marisa into her married life, and Marisa had never been so grateful. Susan had not been there to hear her husband’s considerate and understanding platitude, the offer of allowing her to get to know him better before she came to his bed. How embarrassing that he’d realized she’d been afraid.
She did as Susan said and stood while Susan dried her and helped her into a scandalously sheer red silk night rail that Beatrice had given to her, saying that Maitland would worship her for life once he saw her in it.
“Susan, you’re a widow. Did you know your husband well before you married him?”
Susan kept brushing her hair. “Yes, we courted for almost twelve months before my previous employer gave us permission to marry. Matthew was his Tiger.”
She raised her hand to cover Susan’s where it stroked her hair. “You must miss him.”
“I do. I still talk to him every night. I’m just thankful we had five wonderful years together before consumption got him. I almost made us wait another twelve months before we wed so I could rise to lady’s maid more quickly. I would have missed twelve months of the best years of my life.”
Maitland told her they had all the time in the world, but did they? With a madwoman after him, she might become a widow tomorrow. The idea of someone hurting Maitland upset her. That was a good sign. Already he’d slipped into her heart. He’d proven himself to be considerate, kind, and honorable. And he
was
handsome, especially when he shared one of his rare smiles.
Beatrice had given her the talk about the marriage bed. She said with a man as knowledgeable in the art of lovemaking as His Grace, her night would be pleasurable. The amount of time Beatrice and Sebastian stayed closeted in their room spoke of how magical it continued to be for them. But then, they loved each other.
Perhaps sharing his bed was the quickest way to get to know the man she’d married.
She sat at her dressing table, sipping a glass of champagne, while Susan fussed over her appearance. Marisa remembered the kiss in the alcove and the feelings he’d unleashed in her untutored body. The experience was exciting, stimulating, and maybe it was the champagne she sipped, but her courage roared to life.
“There, you’re ready. Pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you.” She dismissed Susan and sat, contemplating what to do.
Marisa didn’t like being afraid. Usually she embraced life and
No,
she inwardly scoffed. He was simply being a gentleman. It did cross her mind that her brother might have said something to him. They did seem to be having a serious conversation prior to her leaving home.
Ten minutes later she was ensconced in a soothing tub of hot scented water. Yet her bath did nothing to unscramble her confusion. Was it not cowardly to hide from her husband in her room? What must he think of her? If Sebastian had interfered and warned Maitland off, she’d skin him alive. Her marriage was between herself and Maitland.
If, as Maitland suggested, they waited until they knew each other better, would the enormity of the event just build up to gargantuan proportions? What would it be like to lie with him? To experience all the fire he hid under the ice? She’d had a taste and it was not unpleasant. She moved restlessly in the water. Her body remembered the feel of his as he had kissed her, stroking his large hands over her skin and igniting need deep inside of her.
Perhaps she should reevaluate her decision to play the coward tonight. She laid her head back on the edge of the bath and closed her eyes. She
was
tired, but the knowledge that her husband lay alone in the room next door left her with butterflies in her stomach.
He might be lying there wondering what she was doing. He might be dreaming of her.
“Let me help you out of the tub, Your Grace, before you get too wrinkly. You want to look beautiful for your husband.”
Susan, her lady’s maid, had agreed to come with Marisa into her married life, and Marisa had never been so grateful. Susan had not been there to hear her husband’s considerate and understanding platitude, the offer of allowing her to get to know him better before she came to his bed. How embarrassing that he’d realized she’d been afraid.
She did as Susan said and stood while Susan dried her and helped her into a scandalously sheer red silk night rail that Beatrice had given to her, saying that Maitland would worship her for life once he saw her in it.
“Susan, you’re a widow. Did you know your husband well before you married him?”
Susan kept brushing her hair. “Yes, we courted for almost twelve months before my previous employer gave us permission to marry. Matthew was his Tiger.”
She raised her hand to cover Susan’s where it stroked her hair. “You must miss him.”
“I do. I still talk to him every night. I’m just thankful we had five wonderful years together before consumption got him. I almost made us wait another twelve months before we wed so I could rise to lady’s maid more quickly. I would have missed twelve months of the best years of my life.”
Maitland told her they had all the time in the world, but did they? With a madwoman after him, she might become a widow tomorrow. The idea of someone hurting Maitland upset her. That was a good sign. Already he’d slipped into her heart. He’d proven himself to be considerate, kind, and honorable. And he
was
handsome, especially when he shared one of his rare smiles.
Beatrice had given her the talk about the marriage bed. She said with a man as knowledgeable in the art of lovemaking as His Grace, her night would be pleasurable. The amount of time Beatrice and Sebastian stayed closeted in their room spoke of how magical it continued to be for them. But then, they loved each other.
Perhaps sharing his bed was the quickest way to get to know the man she’d married.
She sat at her dressing table, sipping a glass of champagne, while Susan fussed over her appearance. Marisa remembered the kiss in the alcove and the feelings he’d unleashed in her untutored body. The experience was exciting, stimulating, and maybe it was the champagne she sipped, but her courage roared to life.
“There, you’re ready. Pretty as a picture.”
“Thank you.” She dismissed Susan and sat, contemplating what to do.
Marisa didn’t like being afraid. Usually she embraced life and
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