and it's entirely my fault," Hugh assured her. Stroking the hair from her face, he tipped her chin up and kissed her. "Hurry along and get cleaned up," he said, patting her bottom. "We need to be on our way."
Amelia washed quickly, taking special care between her legs where she was tender. The dried blood on her thighs had frightened her and now she felt like a complete dunce. What skills had Mrs. Pettigrew taught them that were of any use in this situation? Yes, she could fold a lovely napkin, manage a dinner party for twenty and paint a bowl of fruit, but how did that prepare a girl for real life? Shaking her head, she took her robe from the back of the door and slipped it on. Her new husband had likely seen every inch of her now, but that didn't mean she was going to parade around in front of him naked.
Once in the bedroom, she gathered the clothing she'd chosen and retreated behind the dressing screen. She emerged dressed in her freshly cleaned gray traveling suit, struggling to fasten the back.
Hugh smiled and turned her around, working the closures himself.
"If there were any extra women around, I'd think about getting you a ladies maid," he teased. "Sit down; I'll brush your hair."
Sitting on the stool in front of the vanity, Amelia sighed as he gently pulled the brush through her hair until there were no more tangles. Thanking him, she twisted the heavy mass into an acceptable chignon and used multiple hairpins to hold it. The knock on the door startled her, but she was happy to see the cart being rolled in.
"I ordered both coffee and tea, as I didn't know which you preferred in the morning," Hugh explained. "We'll have breakfast aboard ship once we get underway."
"That was very thoughtful of you. I'll have coffee this morning. I think it will help me wake up," she said, rising. "Let me serve you."
"No, I'll do it. Finish putting your things in your bag. We don't have much time. What do you take?"
"One sugar and a splash of cream," she said as she packed her toiletries away.
"Have you a heavy cloak? It's quite cool on the water," he said, handing her the cup.
"Yes, it's in that trunk." Taking a sip, she watched her husband retrieve it and place it on the bed before relocking it and pocketing the key.
No sooner had they finished their coffee than a quiet knock sounded at the door.
Hugh let the two men in and placed the cloak over Amelia's shoulders.
"Well, Mrs. Jordon," he said, fastening the frogs down the front and pulling up the hood. "Are you ready?" His hands held her shoulders and a satisfied smile tilted his lips.
"Lead on," she replied with a grin.
Once aboard the ship, Amelia took one look at the huge bed and quickly climbed in. Hugh smiled and covered her with a quilt before kissing her cheek.
"I need to have a word with the captain," he said, tucking her in. "Get some rest as I intend to keep you up half the night."
Amelia opened one eye, sending him an evil look before sticking out her tongue and snuggling in. Her husband swatted her on the bottom and left with a light step.
It was several hours before she awoke. The first thing she noticed was the gentle rocking of the ship. Stretching, she sat up and saw a tray sitting on the built-in bureau. On it was a wrapped pastry along with a sealed container. Using the steps, she got off the bed and padded to the tray realizing Hugh must have returned and removed her shoes and cloak. Opening the jug she took a sniff, delighted to discover hot chocolate. It was still warm when she poured it into the cup.
Walking to the porthole, she stood on her tiptoes and saw nothing but the blue water of the Pacific. Apparently they were well underway. Returning to the tray, she picked up the pastry and wandered the room, investigating every nook and cranny as she nibbled. There were nautical books, compasses and charts showing the ocean currents all the way up the west coast. She studied them until she was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. Opening it,
Amelia washed quickly, taking special care between her legs where she was tender. The dried blood on her thighs had frightened her and now she felt like a complete dunce. What skills had Mrs. Pettigrew taught them that were of any use in this situation? Yes, she could fold a lovely napkin, manage a dinner party for twenty and paint a bowl of fruit, but how did that prepare a girl for real life? Shaking her head, she took her robe from the back of the door and slipped it on. Her new husband had likely seen every inch of her now, but that didn't mean she was going to parade around in front of him naked.
Once in the bedroom, she gathered the clothing she'd chosen and retreated behind the dressing screen. She emerged dressed in her freshly cleaned gray traveling suit, struggling to fasten the back.
Hugh smiled and turned her around, working the closures himself.
"If there were any extra women around, I'd think about getting you a ladies maid," he teased. "Sit down; I'll brush your hair."
Sitting on the stool in front of the vanity, Amelia sighed as he gently pulled the brush through her hair until there were no more tangles. Thanking him, she twisted the heavy mass into an acceptable chignon and used multiple hairpins to hold it. The knock on the door startled her, but she was happy to see the cart being rolled in.
"I ordered both coffee and tea, as I didn't know which you preferred in the morning," Hugh explained. "We'll have breakfast aboard ship once we get underway."
"That was very thoughtful of you. I'll have coffee this morning. I think it will help me wake up," she said, rising. "Let me serve you."
"No, I'll do it. Finish putting your things in your bag. We don't have much time. What do you take?"
"One sugar and a splash of cream," she said as she packed her toiletries away.
"Have you a heavy cloak? It's quite cool on the water," he said, handing her the cup.
"Yes, it's in that trunk." Taking a sip, she watched her husband retrieve it and place it on the bed before relocking it and pocketing the key.
No sooner had they finished their coffee than a quiet knock sounded at the door.
Hugh let the two men in and placed the cloak over Amelia's shoulders.
"Well, Mrs. Jordon," he said, fastening the frogs down the front and pulling up the hood. "Are you ready?" His hands held her shoulders and a satisfied smile tilted his lips.
"Lead on," she replied with a grin.
Once aboard the ship, Amelia took one look at the huge bed and quickly climbed in. Hugh smiled and covered her with a quilt before kissing her cheek.
"I need to have a word with the captain," he said, tucking her in. "Get some rest as I intend to keep you up half the night."
Amelia opened one eye, sending him an evil look before sticking out her tongue and snuggling in. Her husband swatted her on the bottom and left with a light step.
It was several hours before she awoke. The first thing she noticed was the gentle rocking of the ship. Stretching, she sat up and saw a tray sitting on the built-in bureau. On it was a wrapped pastry along with a sealed container. Using the steps, she got off the bed and padded to the tray realizing Hugh must have returned and removed her shoes and cloak. Opening the jug she took a sniff, delighted to discover hot chocolate. It was still warm when she poured it into the cup.
Walking to the porthole, she stood on her tiptoes and saw nothing but the blue water of the Pacific. Apparently they were well underway. Returning to the tray, she picked up the pastry and wandered the room, investigating every nook and cranny as she nibbled. There were nautical books, compasses and charts showing the ocean currents all the way up the west coast. She studied them until she was interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. Opening it,
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