The Undoing of a Libertine (Somerset Historicals 2)
Page 29
He chuckled. “Well, we have that in common then, for your voice hypnotizes me.”
A powerful yawn consumed her. She covered her mouth and mumbled, “Pardon me. I suppose it has been a long day.”
“You are tired, sweetheart.”
“I fear you are right,” she answered, stifling another yawn.
“Time for bed then. We have another long day ahead tomorrow.” He led her over to the bed and pulled back the covers. “In you go,” he said easily.
Georgina took a deep breath and unbelted her gown for the second time tonight. Strangely she didn’t feel worried for him to see her in nothing but a shift. She was pragmatic enough to understand he’d being seeing any part of her he liked after tomorrow, so what did it matter tonight? But he didn’t even look at her. While she was settling under the covers, he’d already turned away. He went around the room putting out the lamps instead.
Jeremy extinguished all of the lamps save for the one by the bed. Then he removed his boots. He stretched out next to her on the bed, but stayed on top of the covers.
“May I read you one poem? It is not long,” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, Jeremy, please.”
Georgina turned to face him on her side. Jeremy did the same.
Studying his hands as he held the book, Georgina thought his long fingers splendid of form. She thought about those hands and fingers of his touching her skin in intimate places. Tomorrow he will touch me with those hands.
Jeremy began to read. The sound of him travelled the distance between their bodies, his rich voice speaking the prose with artful flow…
Delight in Disorder.
A Sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A Lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction:
An erring Lace which here and there
Enthralls the Crimson Stomacher:
A Cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly:
A winning wave (deserving Note)
In the tempestuous petticoat:
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me than when Art
Is too precise in every part.
Robert Herrick, Hesperides, 1648
Jeremy lifted his eyes from the page over to her face. “I even understand it,” he said. “Fancy that.”
“Tell me.”