She’d almost achieved it too, until the door opened.
“Now that’s a lovely picture,” he said. “My wife. Getting ready for bed.”
Oh bloody hell.
*~~*~~*
She was indeed worthy of the finest portrait painter. Slender, clad in something that looked warm and buttoned high, ending in a small ruffle around her neck, she was slowly braiding her hair into a long plait, tying the ends with a little piece of ribbon, her actions speaking of familiarity and routine. This was something she must have done for years.
Her expression, when he spoke, was one of surprise, followed by embarrassment at being caught in such an improper position. “Oh good grief,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Now what do we do?”
He had more than a few ideas, but decided now wasn’t the time to suggest mutual nudity. “Well, I’m going to go behind that screen and undress. I doubt you’ll feel inclined to peek, so I suggest you pick a side of the bed and get under the covers. It’s going to be cold in here tonight, and I didn’t think to bring wood for a fire.”
“We don’t need one,” she sighed. “I’m sure we’ve both experienced colder nights than this.”
Paul took off his jacket and walked to the screen, going behind it as he’d promised. “Indeed. You’d have to go a long way to beat the arctic air of St. Petersburg in January.”
There was a rustling sound, followed by a few thumps and a squeak from the bed frame. “Russia in the winter? What’s it like?” asked Harriet.
He removed his clothing, hanging it on another hook, next to her dress. “It was an experience, believe me.” His nightshirt was not thick and warm like hers. He shivered as he slid the cotton over his head. “It’s so cold that the hairs inside your nose can freeze with your first breath out of doors, sometimes. Luckily, they have plenty of furs—and not ones stored in a musty cupboard that smell of dinner.”
He heard her chuckle, and smiled. Good. She was relaxing a little.
“The women are very beautiful, I’ve heard.”
“Some are, yes. Mostly the ones with enough money to buy the finest fabrics, and jewels and with a dozen servants to dress them in their most magnificent styles.”
“Ah. So not really that different to London, I suppose.”
He emerged from the screen, already chilled, and ran his hands through his hair. Then stopped dead. “What thehell?”
Harriet turned her head on the pillow and stared at him. “What?”
Paul blinked. “There appears to be a small mountain range in the middle of the bed, Harry. Was there a geological upheaval I failed to notice when I was behind the screen?”
“No,” she laughed. “Don’t be silly.”
“Then what…” He waved his hand toward the mound that divided the two halves of the bed. It was lumpy and did indeed look like a small line of hills, especially since it was beneath the fur blanket they’d rescued from the closet.
“Well,” she settled herself. “I remember a book I enjoyed about Dutch painters and their lives several centuries ago.”
She paused as he slipped beneath the covers on what he assumed was his side of the dividing terrain. “Go on, I’m listening.”
“So apparently families, often unrelated, would share beds for warmth, either while travelling and staying at inns, or at large boarding houses. It makes sense when you come to think of it,” she continued. “Warmth is essential for life, and sharing blankets made the preservation of warmth much easier. Especially for families with children.”
“I can see that, of course. Not an unusual event. But that doesn’t explainthis…” He nudged the mountains with his knee.
“Well,” said Harriet, “such practices inevitably led to…er…unrelated ladies and gentlemen taking advantage of the situation.” She cleared her throat. “So a barrier was erected, and that was apparently effective in minimizing…um…”
“Fraternization?”
“That’s a fair way of describing it, I suppose. Yes.”
Paul had a hard time repressing a laugh. But he was finally getting warm beneath the quilts and the addition of the fur, which easily covered both the bed and the rise in the middle, held the heat right where they needed it.
“So, thanks to this inventive construction, I need have no fear that you will find yourself taken by an urge to seize upon, and inappropriately use, my body during the night?”
There was silence for a moment. “Of course.”
