For the first time I considered that, just maybe, he was as nervous as I was. His head was cocked, and his back curved slightly making him smaller than usual. The effort was foreign on him, and the effect was strangely comforting. His slate blue eyes searched mine, searching for I didn’t know what.
His efforts, more than anything else, were a relief. That he asked, instead of assuming as was his right, soothed some of my trepidation. I nodded, more confident than I felt and he reciprocated, straightening once more.
For a moment, I had forgotten just how tall and broad he was—my husband. One complaint I should not have was an unattractive husband. He towered over me, mint and vanilla scent surrounding and enveloping me. The hand on my shoulder was warm, hot almost, and burning an imposing print through the gossamer fabric of my gown. He swallowed once more, before releasing his grip, freeing me to my toilette.
* * *
The room had been aired out slightlyin my absence. November chill battled for dominance with the heat from the roaring fire. An oversized copper tub of steaming water had been placed to the one side behind a screen, and I nearly cried at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. I set about pulling the pins from my hair, marveling at Anna’s talent. She had managed to restrain my slippery locks through the whole of dinner, a previously unimaginable feat. The woman herself arrived shortly thereafter, bearing the fragrant jasmine soap I brought with me. She took over the task seamlessly before helping me from my gown and into the tub. The water stung as I entered; normally, I would find it too hot, but I appreciated the distraction tonight.
On the other side of the screen, Anna fussed with my night dresses, clearly searching for the least objectionable option. They were all garish. Aunt Prudence had ordered four, each more hideous than the last. I wasn’t entirely certain how I would be able to sleep strangled in ribbons and scratched by lace. But, I was given to understand that sleep wasn’t their intended purpose.
“Kate?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t suppose there are any less…”
“Vulgar options?”
“That wasn’t the word I was going to use.”
“It’s the one you meant though.”
“Well, yes.”
“My old one is in the other trunk that hasn’t been unpacked yet. It’s seen a bit of wear but at least I won’t be attacked by it. I don’t suppose you know anything about removing ribbons and lace?”
I heard the trunk creak open, followed by a rustling and a soft sound of triumph. “I can try,” she answered, distractedly, with more question than confidence in her tone. “The ribbons seem doable but the lace, some of it appears to be structural.”
“I feared as much.” I dragged the soap up and down my skin, luxuriating in the fragrant scent. “How long do you suppose I have?”
“Perhaps a quarter of an hour or so? His lordship asked Stevens to fetch water for him as well.”
Hugh ordered the bath for me? That was unexpectedly thoughtful. Bolstered by the confidence of that gesture, I rose to dry off.
Anna helped me into the nightdress, guiding me over to the vanity. She set about running a brush gently through my hair. Ordinarily I wore it back, braided. Is that how one wore their hair on their wedding night? I caught her questioning gaze in the mirror, clearly neither of us had that answer ready.
“Down? I think down.”
I nodded. Even if that was incorrect, I quite liked my hair, and it was one of the few things Hugh hadn’t listed as a fault.
I had done my best to forget that unkind speech, and the memory of it now sickened me. A man who hated my body had vowed to worship it this morning. And tonight we were to…
Mistaking my stricken expression for one of nerves, Anna rushed to comfort me. “Do not fret. I don’t know all that goes on between husband and wife of course, but his lordship will be kind to you. I’m sure of it.”
I gave her the surest smile I could manage. It felt weak and weary to me, but she accepted it.
Finally, she ran out of activities to distract me with. I bade her goodnight and did my best to ignore her sympathetic expression as she closed the door.
I found the bed, now scented more of fresh winter air than whatever it was the dowager preferred. Wiping damp palms on the bed coverings, I determined that they would be the first things to go.
Was this how I was supposed to await him? Or was the chair better? Perhaps the vanity?
My teeth caught the edge of my lip hard, ripping a layer of skin off. When did I start biting it? Determinedly I clenched my teeth against each other, leaving no room for cheek or lip between them.
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door from the adjoining room, harsh and cold in the silence. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly, before responding, “come in.”
* * *
