She turned to regard him one last time. “Has my bath been prepared?”
“As you requested.” Goodayle nodded and then dipped his head low.
She thought it odd he refused to meet her eyes. He’d done so every other time before. Perhaps the very nature of a bath and exposed woman’s flesh proved too delicate a conversation for him .
“I shall retire for the evening then.”
“As you wish, baroness .” Goodayle handed Gillian a candle. The wick burned brightly as she grabbed the pewter handle and held the light aloft before her. Goodayle bowed, turned , and left her to her own devices .
Her hand shook. She reached up with her other hand to stabilize the wax. Gooseflesh rose down the back of Gillian’s neck and over her arms . Had the two men in the alley scared her that badly? Why was she so jumpy? Lifting the hem of her plain wool gown, she took the first step.
No. She hadn’t risen from squalor to lose faith in herself now. She was made of sterner stuff. Besides, s he was in Simon’s town house. What kind of danger could she find herself in? Danger of the heart . Goodayle’s footsteps were but a distant tap on the wooden floor below.
She climbed the staircase past set s of unseeing eyes, officers, lords, ladies, members of court , g olden paintings more intimate and seductive than the gilded landscapes on the previous floor. Light from her candle cast eerie shadows in the hallway as she came to stand before the door that led to her bed chamber.
A sense of dread filled her as she grabbed the knob with timorous fingers. Get control of yourself. You survived. You are safe. Guilt swam over her. But what of Lucien? There would be no rejoicing.
A moment’s panic assailed her as she opened the door and closed it silently behind her . Her gaze fell instantly on the steamy bath beckoning near the fireplace.
A washstand had been placed near the tub . Gillian set down the candle and sighed, stretching her aching shoulders and back as if the weight of the world had hung on them for too long . It had.
A tear fell onto her cheek . She s wiped it away with the back of her hand and began stepping out of her servant’s disguise, piece by practical piece , stockings, stays , and shift , weapon by weapon , short blade here, and small pistol there . Why hadn’t Lucien listened to her ? Now that she was in London, she’d been forced to see Simon, causing her love for him to be rekindled as if mere hours had passed between them instead of years.
Another tear fell. Damn it! I won’t cry again . She’d fought too hard and come too far to lose herself now.
She stretched again , this time arching her arms over her head . Her muscles strained with the effort and she moaned. She gazed down with longing at the glistening, steamy water and then d ipped her toe in , testing the temperature before stepping inside and sliding down into the tub . With an audible sigh, she slipped beneath the water’s surface, baptizing her body with a cleansing flood of invigorating warmth . For a moment, the world ceased to exist. What seemed real was the pulse pounding a steady rhythm in h er neck, water lapping against her skin. Like a sea nymph, s he luxuriated in the ecstasy before rising and sucking in a deep invigorating breath. She smoothed her hair away from her eyes and settled her head back on the rim, eyes closed , breathing a contented sigh .
In the resounding quiet and warm heavenly euphoria the bath provided , her muscles finally relaxed. Truth settled over her like a weighted anvil. She and Simon would be better off never seeing each other again , as much as the thought pained her .
~~~~
January 25 th , 1796
Lucien stood facing her, his eyes level under dark brows as she timidly accepted his ring. His expression ranged from incredulity to astonishment as he gently held her fingers and the vicar began to speak.
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
The vicar turned to Gillian. “Do you
“As you requested.” Goodayle nodded and then dipped his head low.
She thought it odd he refused to meet her eyes. He’d done so every other time before. Perhaps the very nature of a bath and exposed woman’s flesh proved too delicate a conversation for him .
“I shall retire for the evening then.”
“As you wish, baroness .” Goodayle handed Gillian a candle. The wick burned brightly as she grabbed the pewter handle and held the light aloft before her. Goodayle bowed, turned , and left her to her own devices .
Her hand shook. She reached up with her other hand to stabilize the wax. Gooseflesh rose down the back of Gillian’s neck and over her arms . Had the two men in the alley scared her that badly? Why was she so jumpy? Lifting the hem of her plain wool gown, she took the first step.
No. She hadn’t risen from squalor to lose faith in herself now. She was made of sterner stuff. Besides, s he was in Simon’s town house. What kind of danger could she find herself in? Danger of the heart . Goodayle’s footsteps were but a distant tap on the wooden floor below.
She climbed the staircase past set s of unseeing eyes, officers, lords, ladies, members of court , g olden paintings more intimate and seductive than the gilded landscapes on the previous floor. Light from her candle cast eerie shadows in the hallway as she came to stand before the door that led to her bed chamber.
A sense of dread filled her as she grabbed the knob with timorous fingers. Get control of yourself. You survived. You are safe. Guilt swam over her. But what of Lucien? There would be no rejoicing.
A moment’s panic assailed her as she opened the door and closed it silently behind her . Her gaze fell instantly on the steamy bath beckoning near the fireplace.
A washstand had been placed near the tub . Gillian set down the candle and sighed, stretching her aching shoulders and back as if the weight of the world had hung on them for too long . It had.
A tear fell onto her cheek . She s wiped it away with the back of her hand and began stepping out of her servant’s disguise, piece by practical piece , stockings, stays , and shift , weapon by weapon , short blade here, and small pistol there . Why hadn’t Lucien listened to her ? Now that she was in London, she’d been forced to see Simon, causing her love for him to be rekindled as if mere hours had passed between them instead of years.
Another tear fell. Damn it! I won’t cry again . She’d fought too hard and come too far to lose herself now.
She stretched again , this time arching her arms over her head . Her muscles strained with the effort and she moaned. She gazed down with longing at the glistening, steamy water and then d ipped her toe in , testing the temperature before stepping inside and sliding down into the tub . With an audible sigh, she slipped beneath the water’s surface, baptizing her body with a cleansing flood of invigorating warmth . For a moment, the world ceased to exist. What seemed real was the pulse pounding a steady rhythm in h er neck, water lapping against her skin. Like a sea nymph, s he luxuriated in the ecstasy before rising and sucking in a deep invigorating breath. She smoothed her hair away from her eyes and settled her head back on the rim, eyes closed , breathing a contented sigh .
In the resounding quiet and warm heavenly euphoria the bath provided , her muscles finally relaxed. Truth settled over her like a weighted anvil. She and Simon would be better off never seeing each other again , as much as the thought pained her .
~~~~
January 25 th , 1796
Lucien stood facing her, his eyes level under dark brows as she timidly accepted his ring. His expression ranged from incredulity to astonishment as he gently held her fingers and the vicar began to speak.
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
The vicar turned to Gillian. “Do you
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