Morington was right; Lewis certainly could have had worse for a wife.
CHAPTER 16
When Bridget woke the next morning to a dampness between her thighs, she tossed her head back against her pillow and inhaled deeply. She had finally realized something about what her body wanted, and it did not take much thought to discern the cause. Bridget had fallen asleep thinking of her most recent kiss with His Grace, after all. She was beginning to wonder if she would wake every morning with the phantom sensation of his lips pressed against hers.
She was to be his wife, after all. Tomorrow was the wedding.
“Good morning, my lady,” Amelia said, cheerful as always. “I hope your sleep was restful.”
Bridget pressed her thighs together, warmth rushing to her face. It was a senseless reaction, for Amelia would certainly not notice the dampness between Bridget’s thighs, but she nonetheless felt the need to hide herself just a little.
“It was,” Bridget lied. “Restful, indeed.”
“That is fortunate,” Amelia said. “Especially as the next few days will be quite busy. There is so much to be finished before the wedding!”
Was there? Bridget could scarcely imagine what there was left to plan when she had offered nothing to the conversation of her own wedding, leaving Elias and Dorothy to make the required arrangements.
That was assuming that shewasto marry the Duke of Wheelton, of course. For all his insistence that she was to marry him, Bridget still wondered about his grandmother. She had learned far less about the woman than she had hoped at the ball.
“Has my sister suggested that I not marry?” Bridget asked. “To your knowledge?”
Amelia blinked, appearing confused. “I imagine you would know before I would, my lady, but I have heard nothing of the sort.”
That meant Dorothy had learned there was no truth to the rumors, or she had not found sufficient proof either way. Bridget pursed her lips together, thinking. She supposed that she could call on her sister and ask.
Bridget sighed. There was a small part of her that found the prospect of marriage far less intimidating than it initially had been, and after that kiss, Bridget was thinking that she mightenjoythatreward. It might even be worth behaving as the perfect wife for the Duke of Wheelton, but her chest tightened when she thought of relinquishing her one chance to find true love.
“I wish to visit the Dowager Duchess,” Bridget announced.
“The dowager…?” Amelia trailed off.
“Yes,” she said. “My groom’s grandmother. If I am to marry His Grace, I must meet his only surviving relative before the wedding, mustn’t I?”
Amelia smartly did not mention that it was far from unusual not to meet all a suitor’s relatives before marriage. “Of course, my lady.”
As the lady’s maid went to prepare the appropriate gown, Bridget drew aside the bedclothes and climbed from the bed. She ran her hands through her hair, mind awhirl with all the sensations from the day before.
Bridget tentatively reached between her thighs and cringed in embarrassment at the dampness between her legs. It was quite unfair that the man should have such an effect on her when they were not even near one another! With a scowl, she walked to the vanity and seated herself there. Amelia had laid out a pale green gown trimmed with froths of lace that fell over Bridget’s shoulders like the fronds of a weeping willow tree. Bridget gave it a nod of approval and faced her mirror, awaiting Amelia’s ministrations.
“Have you heard any gossip about the Dowager Duchess?” Bridget asked.
It was well-known that servants delighted in gossip, after all. And hadn’t Dorothy also suggested that one might know something? Bridget did not imagine that Amelia would know anyone from the Dowager Duchess’s household, but she might have come into some secondhand knowledge.
“Regrettably, no,” Amelia said.
The lady’s maid gently worked rose oil into Bridget’s hair until her ringlets shined. Then, she began gently coaxing pins into place.
“A pity,” Bridget said. “I was hoping you might have heard something.”
“I can ask around if you like,” Amelia offered.
“That would only be helpful if you learned something before tomorrow,” Bridget said dryly. “I am trying to learn if His Grace is unkind to the woman.”
“Unkind to her? Do you mean to say that your husband is a brute?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” Bridget said.
But that was not entirely because of the rumors. She shivered, remembering how the man had loomed over her in the darkness. Bridget’s heart had hammered violently against her ribs just from being in his presence, and when he had pulled her against him, Bridget had a passing thought that he was a massive man and probably dangerous if he wanted to be.
