"Yes," Diana said, serious now, "yes, I was. I am worried, though. Deborah said something about Dido being above herself and taking the whip to her. I won't allow that, Lyon."
"Of course not." He eased down into a wing chair that faced the tub, stretched his long legs out in front of him, and leaned his head back. "Bathe, Diana. I need to rest awhile."
"You didn't want to rest just a few minutes ago!"
He cocked an eye at her. "I must have forgotten. Lord, I have the strangest feeling, in fact, I think I must be dreaming. I see myself on a sugar plantation in the West Indies. This quite appetizing young lady is prancing about in front of me, and do you know what? I do believe she is going to strip off her clothes, just for my pleasure."
"Close your eyes, you buffoon! And I don't prance, I am not a horse."
He obligingly closed his eyes, at least for a couple of minutes. He opened them to see Diana step into the tub. His body responded instantly. He decided it was the beautiful tan contrasted with her white breasts, her hips, and belly. She turned her head toward him at that moment, and their eyes met.
"Lyon," she began, and made a furtive attempt to cover her breasts.
"Into the tub, sweetheart, or you will go without a bath." But his eyes dropped from her face to the nest of dark-blond curls between her thighs. He swallowed and moaned, as if in pain.
The sides of the copper tub were high and he couldn't see anything but her tanned shoulders.
"Well," she said, rubbing jasmine soap on her arms, "what do you think of everything?"
"I'm still in a state of shock. It is so vastly different here. I understand now how strange London must have been for you. You did very well there, Diana."
She was washing her face and didn't reply.
He steepled his fingers and tapped them thoughtfully together. "Did you truly like Yorkshire?"
She rinsed her face and looked over at him. "Yes, I did. It's wild and beautiful." She suddenly realized where this question was leading and added quickly, "But, Lyon, it's cold there ---"
"It was quite warm, really, and the sun was hot. I will admit that it can be dismal in winter, but the snow is beautiful, turning the moors white."
"I've never seen snow."
"The pond on my estate freezes over. You can learn how to ice-skate. There are a lot of things you've never seen or done."
"The same is true of you too."
"Yes." He rose and began to undress.
She climbed out of the tub in a few moments and quickly wrapped herself in a large towel. Lyon was standing there, in the middle of her bedchamber, beautifully naked, smiling at her.
"You are so tanned, except for your ---"
"Yes?" he prodded when she ground to a halt.
"Please bathe, Lyon, we mustn't be late for dinner. Her highness might get in a snit."
He didn't want to, but he forced himself to think about the hours after dinner. The hours after dinner for many years to come.
"I'll give you a complete tour of the plantation tomorrow. You can meet all my friends. My father owns a stallion that even you won't despise. He's half-wild, a Barb, and his name is Salvation."
"You must be kidding!"
"No, and I don't understand that name any more than you do. I asked Father, but the man who sold him the stallion died before he could find out." Her pulse calmed a bit when he was finally in her tub. His knees stuck up and she laughed.
"I am interested in meeting this new stepbrother of yours," he said, sponging himself.
"I hope he isn't like her highness. You know, prim and proper and stiff." Or like Patricia, she added silently.
"Or stoop-shouldered, dressed in black broadcloth, and toting a Bible under his arm?"