She nodded, her grin widening into a smile. “I know. She told me.”
Tom gave a start. “What’s this?” Although he knew Lady Ritchfield was aware he was sweet on Anne—she had given him a number of missives from Anne over the past year even though the butler probably should have been the one to do so—he had never talked to her about his intentions toward the housemaid.
“She wants me to be her lady’s maid. In London,” Anne said, lifting a hand to the side of his neck.
His gaze going to his mind’s eye, Tom chuckled softly. “She’s finally going to pension that old goat,” he whispered.
“What’s this?”
Shaking his head, he turned his gaze back on her. “Watkins. Her lady’s maid. Probably a hundred years old and not a very nice woman, if you ask me. A more stubborn woman you won’t find anywhere else,” he murmured. “You’ll be a welcome addition to the staff, I should think.”
Anne regarded him with a grin. “Does the rest of the staff there know? About us, I mean?”
His look of confusion quickly passed. “Not yet, but they will,” he said. “Because I’m going to introduce you as me wife,” he claimed.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, are you now?”
Stiffening, he said, “I am.” When he realized what she meant, he scoffed. “Well, you are going to marry me, aren’t you? Because...” he turned and waved a hand at the bed. “We’re not spending the night in the same bed if you’re not.”
Anne sighed and tried her best to keep a straight face. “Well, if that’s the best you can do for a marriage proposal, then I suppose I have to accept it,” she chided.
Tom inhaled to answer before his brows furrowed. “Oh, that didn’t come out how I was expectin’ to do it,” he admitted. “My apologies.” He stood from the bed and turned to face her. Lifting her hands, one in each of his, he said, “Miss Salisbury, will you do me the honor of becoming me wife?”
Anne grinned and nodded. “I will, Mr. Walker.”
The two stared at one another for a long time before he gathered her into his arms and kissed her.
He had the ties of her apron undone and the buttons unfastened at the top of her livery before their lips separated. When he glanced down, he discovered she had already unbuttoned his waistcoat.
He pulled off her apron and was about to lift her gown when he paused. “Should I put you into bed first? It’s still a bit chilly in here,” he whispered.
“I hadn’t noticed,” she murmured, pushing his waistcoat from his body. She was undoing the knot in his cravat when he wrapped his hands around her wrists.
“Have you seen a man before? Without clothes on, I mean?”
Understanding immediately what he was asking, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “In paintings, I suppose,” she replied.
“Because I don’t know what you’re expecting, but?—”
“I don’t know what you’re expecting, either,” she interrupted, shaking her wrists free of his hold so she could continue undoing his cravat. “But we’ll turn down the candle lamps so it will be dark?—”
“But I want to see you,” he argued.
Anne stilled her hands. “Do you mean, in my shift, or...?”
“Well, theor,” he affirmed. When he heard her scoff of shock, he added, “I know you’ll be gorgeous, Anne. Much finer looking than me, that’s for certain.”
She draped his cravat over the back of a chair and extinguished the candle lamp she had brought as well as the other two. The flames in the fireplace, now spread over all the logs, cast more than enough light in the room.
“If you insist, but I’m leaving my stockings on,” she stated. She encouraged him to sit on the bed so she could pull his boots from his feet. “I better not see a single look of disappointment, though.” The first boot landed with a thud a few feet away.
“You won’t,” he agreed. “But I’m keeping my shirt on. To be sure I won’t see a look of disappointment from you.”
She scoffed. “It’s hardly the same,” she said, tossing his second boot to land atop the first. Coming to her feet, shereached for the sides of his shirt and began pulling the fabric from his breeches.
“Have you done this before?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Beneath the hem of his shirt, she had her hand on one of the buttons of his breeches, and she stilled. “No,” she replied. “Of course not.”
