When she finally came to herself, Molly was wrapping her in a large towel and telling her to sit by the fire so her hair might dry. Then she took the tub away, and Genevieve blinked at the unfamiliar room, realizing she was alone. It was the first time she’d been alone all day. The first time she’d had a moment to take a breath and allow her expression to fall from the pleasant smile she’d plastered on it.
Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, and her shoulders felt as though she had bricks on top of them. She looked behind her, trying to determine where she might be. Was this Rory’s room? If so, he might come in at any moment, and she wanted to be wearing more than a towel. She spotted a nightrail and a robe on the bed, pulled both on, then used the towel to try to dry her damp curls. The more she looked about the chamber, the less she thought it was that of the master of the house. More than likely, it was the mistress’s bedchamber, which meant…Ah, yes.There was the adjoining door. Just the sight of it gave her a feeling of birds fluttering wildly in her chest. Was he on the other side of that door, preparing to come into her chamber and do his husbandly duty?
Was it wrong that she was looking forward to that part of the marriage? She had been thinking all day about how she wanted to kiss him again. It wouldn’t be long now before she could touch him. Would he allow her to touch him all over? Would he allow her to remove his clothing? He had no shortage of muscles. She wouldn’t mind seeing how he compared to some of the sculptures of men she’d seen.
Heat rose in her cheeks, and she fanned herself.
Her nipples had hardened at the direction of her thoughts, and she looked down at what she was wearing. The robe was modest enough, but the nightrail was quite thin and almosttransparent, made of a fine silk the likes of which she’d never possessed. She quickly fastened the robe closed, knotting the tie four or five times to ensure it would not come loose and reveal more than she intended to Molly, or one of the other maids or footmen putting the house back to rights after the day’s celebrations.
She should go down and—
Frances!She hadn’t put Frances to bed, and she realized, with a start, she had no idea what had happened to the girl or when she had last seen her. How could she have forgotten? She hurried to the door, flung it open, and spotted Molly coming back down the corridor.
“What is it, my lady?”
Genevieve jolted back at the title. She’d forgotten she was now Lady Emory.Her, a lady! “Molly, I think you had better call me Genevieve, as you always have. If you refer to me asmy lady, I won’t know whom you are speaking to.”
Molly smiled. “Lord Emory told the staff we are to give you every respect.”
“I certainly do not wish to cause you any trouble with”—Genevieve was not at all ready to call himhusband—“er, with Lord Emory. I need to see to Miss Lumlee. I don’t know what I could have been thinking to have left her unattended all day.”
“She’s not been unattended, my—Genevieve. Mary has been at her side all day and is in her room right now. The child has been asleep for over an hour at least. She was exhausted after all the excitement today.” Molly gestured toward the door to Genevieve’s new chamber. “We had better comb your hair before it dries.”
Genevieve allowed Molly to comb and plait her hair. Finally, the maid pulled the bedclothes back and Genevieve got in. Once Molly had gone, she got back up, donned her robe again, and stepped back into the corridor. No one was there to stop hernow, and she padded to the other end and paused outside the nursery door. She lifted the latch and opened the door softly. She spotted Mary in the light of the fire and put her finger to her lips. Mary smiled and nodded at her.
Genevieve tiptoed inside and looked down at Frances, who was indeed asleep with her doll clutched to her chest. Her nightcap had fallen off, and Genevieve placed it on the bedside table and brushed the hair back from the child’s face. This was her daughter now. Not simply her charge.
Herdaughter.
Suddenly, she wished her own mother was here or that she could recall what they had discussed this afternoon. Mama had been confused but happy for Genevieve. Even if she couldn’t remember the words, she could remember that feeling from her mother, who had always made her feel loved and accepted. Now Genevieve wanted to make sure Frances grew up with those same feelings.
She tucked the covers around the little girl, nodded at Mary again, then tiptoed back out of the room. Quietly, she closed the door. She started back toward her room and ran right into a large form blocking her way.
*
“Don’t scream,” Rorysaid. Genevieve made a squeak, her hands going to her mouth to forestall anything louder. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He’d waited outside the nursery, certain she would see him when she stepped out, but she hadn’t looked before she started back toward her chamber. Consequently, she’d almost plowed right into him. Now, he had both hands on her arms, keeping her from falling backward after the near collision.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. She seemed to realize his hands were on her, and she stepped away. He wanted to touch her again but stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robe instead. Like her, he had bathed and dressed for bed. He wore loose trousers under the robe but hadn’t bothered with a shirt.
She motioned for him to follow her, away from the nursery door. He did so, following her to the chamber adjoining his, the one he’d had prepared for her. He’d tapped on the adjoining door a few minutes before and, hearing no response, peeked inside. Finding the chamber empty, he’d gone to look for her. It hadn’t surprised him she was in the nursery. She was an excellent governess, and he thought she’d be an excellent mother as well.
Frances needed her, and now, with Genevieve firmly ensconced in his life, there would be no more outbursts or crises from his daughter. He’d enjoy peace and quiet…and the other benefits of marriage.
He looked down at Genevieve now as she paused at her chamber door. “I didn’t mean to stop you from checking on Frances,” she said. “I didn’t want to chance waking her. I didn’t put her to bed myself, and wanted to make certain all was as it should be.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached past her and pushed her door open. “I didn’t come looking for Frances.”
Genevieve turned and glanced into her chamber.
“I came looking for you.” He gestured toward her chamber, indicating she should go before him. For a moment, her eyes widened, and she looked one way and then the other, like a cornered animal searching for escape. Rory tensed. He’d seen that look before. Harriet had given him that same expression…until she’d learned to mask her repulsion with indifference.
He took a step back. Genevieve was his wife, but he had no intention of forcing himself on her. He’d thought… Well, he’d been wrong before.
He started to take another step away, but she grasped his hand and yanked him inside her chamber before closing the door.
