‘Alfie would want everyone to be happy.’ My words don’t land well as he goes silent for what feels like an eternity.
‘Let’s talk about our footman and maid,’ he says after such a long pause I assumed he’d fallen asleep. ‘John doesn’t see Mary the following day. His heart is aching.’
I place my hand gently on the pillow wall. ‘Why is his heart aching?’
‘He doesn’t understand why she didn’t show up.’ Oliver pauses before saying, ‘He senses she’s got secrets, but he doesn’t care about them.’
‘What are they?’ I pray Mary is cursed.
‘She’s carrying an emotional burden, and it’s getting heavier by the day.’
Definitely a curse. My heart skips a beat. ‘Some secrets need to stay hidden.’
Oliver continues. ‘Later that evening, he catches her in the servants’ stairwell. The house is silent. A candle flickers in the draught. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers.’
My breath catches in my throat.
‘The footman steps closer to her. He says, “If I listened to them, I would never see you. Why didn’t you meet me last night?” They both can hear footsteps and laughter from the kitchen downstairs.’ He leans closer.
Oliver’s voice is silky smooth, making me want to unravel.
‘She says, “The lady of the house caught me.” There are more voices, and the candle flickers. “Someone could catch us,” she whispers as he lifts a hand and touches a lock of her red hair. He bends down and presses his lips…’
‘But what about her secrets?’ I gasp.
‘He wants her to let him carry the weight of whatever she’s hiding.’
This is excruciating. He’s got such a sexy voice, and I am so involved in this romantic tale about a handsome footman and a shy maid. My body is becoming engulfed in a warm sensation. I want to knock down the pillow wall and kiss him. That would lead to sex. I might be a virgin, but I’m not a complete novice. I know how things work. Sam and I accomplished a few things, but we never had the chance to see it through.
I am still a virgin, though. Not only that, but I am a virgin with a curse.
My heart sinks. I’m like the unicorn of the modern dating world – a rare, mythical creature that no one believes exists.
Oh, God, he’s not going to find me attractive.
What am I doing?
He’s a romance author. Intimacy will be his speciality. Romance authors enjoy crafting spicy scenes. He’s probably used to experienced women in bed. Damn my stupid curse.
I can’t do this.
‘Are you tired, Nelly?’
‘Yes.’
‘Goodnight then.’
‘Goodnight.’
37
It’s early morning. He is still asleep, so I have decided to take a shower. As I dunk my head under cooling jets of water, I recall our lovely picnic and how my overthinking got the better of me.
Having strong feelings for Oliver and not knowing how it will end between us is frustrating. I have nothing concrete to rely on. I now have a newfound appreciation for ordinary people who enter relationships, flings, situationships, and affairs without spoiler alerts. They must navigate dating blindly, hoping that their time, effort, emotions and sanity are not wasted when it ends.
Once I have washed my hair, applied an excessive amount of Tropical Burst Shower Foam to my body and rinsed it off, I step out of the shower and dry myself.
After wrapping my hair in a towel, I put on my dressing gown and notice that the cord is missing. Blast – it’s probably escaped. I pull my robe around me and open the bathroom door. The sight of him standing in the hallway makes me gasp. He’s removed his pyjama top, leaving him bare-chested, wearing only his striped pyjama bottoms, and his towel is tucked under his arm. My eyes dart to his beautiful broad chest. It’s a rich caramel colour and nearly hairless. I want to reach out and run my fingers over his pecs. His dark hair is messy and sexy, and those pyjama bottoms of his are riding low on his hips.
