“I must see you naked before the end of the trip. Now is acceptable, too.”
Ugh. After a barmaid in his university days had complained about him crushing her with his weight, no one had seen him naked in close to a decade. He reviewed his choices. He wanted that time together, away from prying eyes. She’d said she found what she’d seen attractive. He was also less nervous about the prospect of stripping for her than he’d expected to be. He trusted her, at least in private. Gathering his courage, he nodded.
“Really?” Beth bounced on the chair cushion in glee, and he licked his lips as her breasts jiggled.
“On the trip.” Courage was fine, but it did not preclude procrastination.
“Thank you, Robert! Thank you so much! I can be ready at whatever time you want.” She noticed where his gaze had focused and ran her finger around the plain gown’s neckline before leaning forward to place a cushion on the floor near his feet. “May I express my gratitude in another way, sir?”
His burning gaze lifted to hers, and he sat forward, unbuttoning his trousers. “Why, yes, my little housemaid, you may.”
****
In the carriage the next day, Robert extracted the pile of sketches from the small travel bag he’d placed by his feet.
“Might you have thoughts on these?” He handed them to Beth, hoping that any tremble in his hand was attributed to the bouncing ride rather than nerves. Eager to know her opinion, he also wished to impress her with his creativity when he’d never cared what his friends thought of his work. “Those aren’t good enough for a catalogue yet, but I hoped you could offer suggestions for improvement.”
Her eyes widened, and she glanced at the stack before focusing on him again. “Does that mean…” She jounced on the seat.
The distraction allayed his nerves.
“Yes, ’tis an excellent idea, and you have my gratitude.” Her expression told him he’d made the right choice. “I should very much like your help in finding a discreet sketch artist we can trust, and we shall have to decide how to bind them into a catalogue.”
“And I may model?” She tilted her head.
“I hope you will. You have the perfect figure for it, and I trust you.” And he did, he realized. That was part of why he’d allowed himself to care for her.
Beth squeaked and hopped in place on her seat again, drawing Robert’s eyes to the bounciest part of her. “Oh Robert, you shan’t be sorry. I am so excited. I shall work on sourcing an artist as soon as we return.” She turned to the drawings. “For now, will you show me these and share your thoughts about them?”
He laid them out, pointing out features and answering questions. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and he pictured men in Sarah’s drawing room, flipping pages and discussing pieces while they waited for their requested hostess to arrive.
Sitting back, he watched Beth. She was in her element, her mind racing. He imagined doing this in a year, two years, mayhap in five years after the children were abed. Shaking his head, he snuffed that thought.
Women have made it clear you’re not marriage material. At least wait until she’s seen all of you. And be sure you’re willing to have a public relationship.
By the time they arrived at the first night’s inn, she’d demanded a pencil nub and a scrap of paper to make notes.
They paid for the room under the married name of Thorpe as Penelope had suggested—she and Michael had borrowed that name from her housekeeper and husband when they’d traveled to Peterborough the prior year.
After requesting a cold supper in their room, they retired straight away. Beth showed him her notes. She had drawn a line bisecting the length of the paper. On one side, she referenced positions to prioritize for each item. On the other, she recorded new metal pieces he would need, he supposed for her ongoing search for a blacksmith.
Smart and beautiful. No wonder I lo-care for her. He swallowed the other thought, the dangerous one. He’d ride this horse until it dropped. Hmm, speaking of riding… He took the papers from her hands and tugged her to her feet. “Enough designing for now. I’ll show you more configurations for sketches of the existing sets.”
Beth licked her lips.
“You’ll need to be naked, however,” he said, grinning.
“As will you in the next few days, Mr. Orford.” But she acquiesced and unlaced her dress.
He’d brought the cuffs they’d used their second night in Bath and a few times since. The trip was a perfect opportunity to test how easy they were to use when traveling, no matter what furniture was available.
When she was naked, he produced the cuffs set. “Let’s try the low table here, shall we?” He gestured to the table where their supper tray still sat. Stepping around her, he moved the dishes to a side table, then knelt and thread the long straps beneath the table, end to end.
“Face down or face up?” she asked, her eyes bright.
Damnation, she was magnificent. He’d already planned a “private in public” play for the next day’s ride. Mayhap he could even face the bullies if he got to keep her.
****
