She shifted, moving her dressing gown to reveal more of her legs. She raised an arm above her head and tried to think of what she had heard people say of temptation.
“Features? What features do I want him to see? Surely she was not talking about… No, that would be too vulgar. But maybe, perhaps I could show a little more of myself.” She gently adjusted her dressing gown, revealing more of her pale skin in the firelight.
“What am I supposed to do with my hands?” She tried to prop herself up on her elbow to steady herself on the bed, resting her head in her hands, just like she had seen in a scandalous painting before her mother had yanked her away.
She moved her legs, crossing and uncrossing them, trying to angle herself so that she looked alluring. Or at least, hoping that she would.
“These accursed sheets are so slippery that it is impossible to lie like this.” Vivian cursed and caught sight of herself in the mirror. “And of course, I look exactly as ridiculous as I thought.”
She groaned and flopped back onto the pillows, massaging her temples with her fingertips. The smell of amber surrounded her, and for a moment, she remembered the feel of his hand at her back as they had danced at the wedding.
“Doubtless, if he were here, he would tell me to breathe. To relax.” She could practically hear his voice in her head.
‘I am not the kind of man who lets his partner fall.’
“Easy enough to say,” Vivian murmured, remembering the way they had danced. “He dances like… like a painter. No… That makes no sense. He is like a bird, beautiful and elegant.”
Vivian knew she was talking nonsense, but she did not care. The bed was so warm, so comfortable. And it smelled of him. She had not thought that she would find the scent of amber so reassuring, but she did.
Her eyelids felt heavy. She knew she should resist, but she could not. She let herself drift as the smell of amber intensified. She dreamed of warmth surrounding her, of being carried, not flying through the air, only to land in a soft meadow. Small fairies that smelled of amber laid a blanket of swirling vines across her.
“What am I going to do with you?” The fairies turned into Thomas, his piercing blue eyes pinning her in place like a moth beneath a magnifying glass.
“Thomas?” she tried to say, but her mouth would not work properly. “Is that you?”
“This is dangerous,” Thomas murmured, and for a moment, she thought he would stroke her face.
“What is?” she wanted to ask, but the words stuck in her throat. “Why are you here?”
“I cannot stay.” Thomas stood, and the whole meadow rocked.
Vivian tried to move, to reach for him, but something pinned her in place. “No, wait. Don’t leave me.”
“Goodnight, Vivian.” The words were so distant, and she struggled harder. “May your dreams be pleasant.”
“Thomas!” Vivian bolted upright, blinking furiously in the bright light that was streaming through the window.
There was a startled cry from the foot of the bed, and the maid leaped back, a hand clutched to her chest. Vivian yelped and attempted to cover herself, but soon realized that there was no need. The bedclothes were already drawn up around her.
I must have gotten cold during the night.
“My apologies. I did not mean to startle you…” Vivian gestured to the maid, struggling to remember her name.
It is too early for this sort of thing.
“Greta, your ladyship. And it is no bother. I am sorry if I woke you.” Greta’s cheeks were a shade of scarlet that Vivian was sure matched her own.
“I am grateful that you did. I… Where is the Marquess?” Vivian looked around. She was still in his room after all.
“His Lordship is in his study.” Greta gestured toward the door.
“He is working already?” Vivian frowned, wondering how long she had been asleep.
Did he not even return to his room? How am I supposed to get with an heir if the man will not even come to his own bedchamber!
There was no way she would walk through the halls of the house dressed as she was. Her chest tightened, and she swallowed down the rising panic clawing at her throat.
She needed to get some time with her husband, but how? An idea struck her. “Has Tho—Lord Elington broken his fast this morning?”
