Her eyes were wide and glossy with tears, but then she closed them and leaned in. “Yes.”
Smiling inside, he dipped his head and removed the space between them. He had intended for the kiss to be small, chaste, but Ester was too delicious. Her curves against him felt so fine. She molded to him in all the right places. He loosed the shawl from her shoulders and exposed smooth, creamy skin that his fingers would explore if not for the high lace at her throat. That wouldn’t do. “Let me undo the laces of your dress, so you can change for bed. We leave here early in the morn.”
He spun her and loosed the bow her mother had tied.
She bounced away. “I can handle the rest. Remember, I changed in the woods.”
“Yes, with that lovely dance.”
She pulled a dressing gown from her bag then stared at him. “Are you going to step out?”
“No, but I’ll turn.” He faced the door as he had before. “Ester, I have a two-room flat, probably as small a space as the warehouse you once lived. I’m frugal with my money, so you’ll have to become used to me. You need to become used to me.”
He heard her rustling and watched her engaging shadow on the wall.
“I’m done, Bex.”
He turned to find her in another high-necked gown of cream. Graceful and demure, and his pulse raced at the site of her.
Holding her party gown, she began to fold it. “This is so delicate. I shouldn’t have worn it. I washed, but I haven’t had a bath.”
“You were lovely in it, and your lilac soap is quite distinctive on your skin. I could inquire with the innkeeper about a bath in the morning.”
She shook her head and sat on the side of the bed. “No, Bex. Don’t. I’ll be the last to use it. The negress wife of an actor ranks the lowest. The tub will be horrible and dirty before it’s my turn.” She offered a nervous giggle. “I’ll stick to my bucket and pretty soap.
His heart broke for her. The life he had to offer her was so different from the life to which she’d grown accustomed. “That’s why you originally changed your mind? The changes you’ll have to go through to be with me?”
She shrugged. “Yes, and the changes you will have to endure for marrying me. I’m not sure either of us is ready.”
He crossed to her side and saw her clutching the blanket. It wasn’t in anticipation. Fear was not a good lover. “Do me a favor, Ester? I need you to free me of this shirt and the bandage. I have to get my arm moving.”
Ester was tentative in touching him, but she lifted his shirt with great care. Still looking like a scared rabbit, she undid the knot on his bandage.
“I’m free. Thank you, Ester.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
Her eyes were wide as she stared.
Flexing his arm, he leant over and blew out the candle. “You go on to sleep. I’m going to practice my lines. By the time we are back to London, I’ll have missed most of the rehearsals.”
She inhaled deeply as he moved to the small desk. “You’re Arthur Bex. You will be wonderful.”
If she believed that about him completely, she wouldn’t be digging her fingernails into the blanket. “Get some sleep.”
She lay back and maybe released a yawn from her lungs as she hit the mattress. “Good night, Bex.”
“Good night, my dearest Ester. You can call me, Arthur. It’s allowed to be more familiar with your husband.”
He sat at the desk and drew the script from his bag to study his lines.
“You don’t have to be quiet, Bex. I love your voice. It will help me sleep.”
He pushed his arm out of the bandaged sling she’d loosened and stretched it. He needed it strong and flexible, to do everything to woo his wife and make Ester lovehimas she loved his characters on the stage. Yes, he was ready to take on his greatest role. For Ester was his, and she needed to want him whether his name was Arthur Bex or Oliver Arthur Bexeley. Once he was sure of her love, he could tell her the truth and not fear losing her.
Losing a woman who’d just given up everything for him should never happen.
…
With wide-awake eyes, Ester watched Bex and listened to his dreamy voice recite Shakespeare. His tones were clear, and her heart pounded when he said words of love. Like in the theater, she imagined that it was her name he said, not Cleopatra’s.
