“Oh! L-Lord Devereaux, I-I didn’t expect…”
“It’s all right, Susie,” Olivia said. “You may go.”
“But…”
“I’ll be all right,” Olivia said, meeting her husband’s gaze.
Susie approached the door and cringed, dwarfed by Charles’s huge frame. Then she bobbed a curtsey and teetered sideways. He caught her elbow and she whimpered, but he smiled and nodded.
“Th-thank you, my lord.”
She curtseyed again, then fled, closing the door behind her.
He sighed and glanced at the door, fingering his signet ring.
“She’s young,” Olivia said. “Anyone would be wary of a man such as yourself, let alone a maid hardly out of the nursery.”
He tilted his head to one side and frowned.
“I-I mean a titled man,” she said. “I was terrified of Montague when I first met him, and you’re so much…so…” She gestured toward him.
So much bigger.
He approached her, his footsteps hesitant, then gestured with his hands.
“Wait,” she said. “I’ve just the thing you need.”
She plucked a piece of paper and pencil from the dressing table and held them up.
“I had Mrs. Brougham place these around the house—at least while I’m still learning your hand gestures.”
Astonishment flicked across his expression, then a spark of pleasure flared in his eyes as he reached for the paper.
“I had better learn quickly,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to use all your paper, given how expensive it is, but I suppose after tonight…”
She broke off, cringing with shame, but when she looked up, she saw only kindness in Charles’s eyes.
He stooped over the table and scribbled on the paper.
Thank you.
He glanced toward the bed, and Olivia’s heart gave a flutter of anticipation. Trembling, she approached the bed.
He continued to write, then held up the paper. It trembled in his hands, as if caught in a breeze. But there was no breeze. He was as nervous as she.
She took the paper and read the words.
I will be as gentle as I can.
“I know,” she whispered. “I-I trust you.”
Doubt darkened his eyes. Did he think so little of himself that he was incapable of earning her trust? He had already earned it, tending to her with such kindness, not chiding her for her recklessness. Did he require another gesture of trust?
I have nothing to give him.
Except myself.
Swallowing her embarrassment, Olivia gripped the hem of her nightgown, then pulled it over her head, discarding it on the floor.
