“I did.”
“And you brought me flowers.”
“Yes…”
“To attend a ball you would rather chew your own foot off than accompany me to.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way…”
Her hand tangled in my cravat, and she pulled me down to my knees before her. She cupped my cheek with her free hand and traced the bone with her thumb.
“Thank you,” she whispered just before capturing my lips in a kiss.
I had absolutely done something right—though what it was, I had no idea. I wasn’t going to quibble over details while her tongue was tracing my lower lip, seeking entrance.
I was not unaware of our positions, of my proximity to the heat of her that I was desperate to taste for a… third? Or would it be the fourth time? Last night was a blur of silken flesh, lust-filled moans, and unbearable ecstasy.
If my hands wandered to her hair of their own volition, who could blame me?
Apparently Jane, if the irritated groan from the doorway was any indication. I wrenched my lips from Celine’s while her lady’s maid stomped over to the table and thumped the filled vase onto it.
“You do her hair then!” The woman whirled around and stalked away, slamming the door.
Celine caught her lower lip between her teeth, desperately trying to hide a smile. My laughter was bubbling beneath the surface, only to escape in an inelegant snort. Celine’s quickly followed, although it was more delicate.
Slowly we managed to settle. “Well, I suppose I have a coiffure to arrange.” Another laugh burst from her, and I had to duck to hide a pleased smile.
I rose and stepped behind her to examine the damage I had wrought. Honestly, Jane was overreacting. I had left Celine in much worse states than this.
Still, best to start with a good foundation. I slipped out the pins Jane had already placed, and set them beside the others scattered across the table.
“You’re not really going to?” Celine asked, her lips pursed in a perfectOof surprise.
“Well, I can hardly do more damage than I already have. If it’s rubbish we can take them out and beg Jane’s forgiveness.”
She raised a brow at me in the mirror, her lips pressed into an indulgent smile.
Free from pins, I untangled her curls one by one with my fingers. Celine collected the disorderly pins, topped with glinting baubles, while I worked and dropped them into a little pile.
Task completed, she turned to the flowers. One by one she placed them in the vase, arranging them thoughtfully. It seemed that they were an acceptable choice.
I wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with my task. I was, however, extremely out of practice. But Adriane’s hair had been much straighter and more resistant to taming. That experience worked in my favor. Celine’s waves seemed willing to cooperate when I twisted a large mass of them into a delicate knot at the back of her head. I pinned it in place, making every effort not to stab her scalp. Adriane had wailed when that had happened.
In short order, I had the majority of her strands securely pinned back with a few framing her face. Even I could see the style was not quite right, but I thought it was quite lovely on her. Of course, I was hardly unbiased.
Celine observed my progress quietly in the mirror while I worked, handing me pin after pin before I needed to ask.
“Well, I could have done worse, but I don’t believe I shall give up my office in favor of becoming a lady’s maid. Let me apologize to Jane.” Her hand caught my own as I turned to leave.
“Don’t. I like it. We both should apologize, of course. But I will keep it, I think.”
“Love, it’s not the style.”
“But it suits me much better than the style.” She slipped one of the lilies out of the vase and sliced the stem off with the edge of a nearby letter opener. After grabbing a spare ribbon, she deftly wrapped the stem, all without a word. Finally, she handed it to me. “Will you add this? It matches my gown.”
The desire was there to protest, to argue, to insist. The need to spare her this one humiliation was nearly overwhelming. But I had seen resolve in her countenance before, and I knew what it meant. I would be better off arguing with a tree stump for all the good it would do to try to convince her. I tucked the flower between curls and pinned it in place without comment.
No longer distracted by my task, I was able to appreciate the sight of her in her gossamer chemise and nothing else. Her breasts pulled enticingly at the fabric and I was very much regretting fixing her hair when I could have had it curtaining us atop her bed coverings.
