“That will soon change,” he insisted, not breaking his stride.
“People will talk.”
He paused on the front step and turned to face her. “Do you care?”
“No, but—”
“Then neither do I.”
Dumbfounded by the degree to which Simon had changed, Ida entered his home – soon to be their home – and instantly wished she could hide from the butler who came to greet them. But if the man found any fault with her filthy appearance, he gave no indication of doing so. Instead, he welcomed her with deference and promptly began issuing orders to footmen and maids with the sort of efficiency that left her in awe.
“He’s very good,” Simon told her once everyone had been given a task and a hot bath was being prepared. “All my servants are. I’ll introduce you to them properly in the morning. But first—”
Ida gasped as he swept her up into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of your weakened state.” He grinned down at her while starting up the stairs.
Her arms wound their way around his neck, and she pressed her cheek into his solid warmth. “I can’t say I mind.”
A satisfied rumble and the press of his hand against her back were his only responses, but it made her feel more secure than any words ever could have. He turned at the top of the landing and strode toward the door at the end of the hallway. Two footmen carrying a large brass tub followed them into what turned out to be a spacious bedchamber. Maids bustled about, heating water over an already blazing fire, laying out towels and soap. Clean clothes appeared as if they’d been spun from thin air.
Simon set Ida on her feet and led her toward a chair where he encouraged her to sit. “I need a comb.”
What the—
Before Ida could blink the item was placed in his hand, and then he was pulling pins from her hair, untangling the knots and using the comb to carefully put her to rights. He, the Earl of Fielding, was tending to her himself, and whenever a maid offered to help – even when Miranda did so – they were shooed away and ordered to do something else.
“The bath is ready, my lord,” one of the maids said a short while later.
“Thank you, Tara.” Simon set the comb aside and placed his hand on Ida’s shoulder. “You may leave us now. All of you. I’ll ring if there’s anything else we require.”
The flushed faces and averted gazes were not lost on Ida. She felt a swift wave of embarrassment over having the whole household know he would bathe her, but then she was in his arms again and all her concerns flittered away. His mouth found hers in a kiss wrought from longing and fear and the future they’d now secured. It conveyed each emotion she had experienced since her arrest, reminding her she wasn’t alone. She had him. She had Simon with whom to share all her ups and downs – her best friend, closest confidant, lover, and soon-to-be husband.
Not letting her go, he unbuttoned her gown, then unlaced her stays. Every piece of clothing she wore fell away until she was bared to his gaze. The edge of his mouth lifted as he trailed one finger across her shoulder and down the length of her arm. “You are so beautiful.”
“So are you.”
His smile broadened. He offered his hand. “Let me bathe you, Ida. Let me show you how much I love you and how beautiful you truly are.”
She placed her palm in his and allowed him to help her into the tub. Warm, welcoming water caressed her body, soothing it until she sighed with pleasure. A sponge stroked its way over her back. Soap followed, along with firm hands working over her skin and up into her hair. A sigh left her as weightless bliss filled her bones.
“Close your eyes,” Simon murmured before pouring water over her head.
Once she was out of the tub and he’d bundled her in a towel, he stripped his own clothes, tossed them in a corner together with hers, and gave himself a quick wash while she watched from her position on the edge of his bed. There was something incredibly intimate about being together like this – about the rightness of it.
“Are you hungry?” he asked while he dried himself off. “I can have a tray of food brought up.”
She was actually starving. The stale bread she’d received immediately after her trial had not been enough to fill her stomach. And yet there was something she needed first, much more than food. “I’d like that. A little later.”
His movements slowed until he was standing utterly still. Meeting his gaze, she unwound her towel and allowed it to fall. His smoldering gaze swept over her body. Desire spiked through her.
“Ida.” The rawness in his voice promised he’d soon lose control.
She could scarcely wait. “Simon.”
His name was enough. Without blinking he tossed his towel aside, closed the distance between them, and lifted her onto the bed. She gasped as he followed her down, then again when he made a snug space for himself between her thighs. Lord, the weight of his body felt good, so right, so safe after what she’d been through.
“I love you,” he murmured against her lips.
