The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

It was the last thing she thought before she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

‘Good morning, Miss Webster.’ Mrs Gargrave’s shrill voice bore a striking resemblance to a cockerel crowing in her ear.

‘Good morning.’ Frances heaved herself up on to her elbows, looking around with new eyes as the housekeeper opened the curtains and let in a burst of bright sunlight. In her bone-weary state the previous evening she’d only had eyes for the bed, or more accurately the man beside it, but now in broad daylight she could see the details of the room itself.

It was pale blue and pretty, with a vast mahogany dresser, a matching table and pair of wicker chairs by the window. There was a fresh cup of tea by the bedside and her clothes had been draped neatly over a chair. Had Arthur done that before he left? she wondered. She had no idea what time that had been, only presumably some time before Mrs Gargrave had entered. In which case, where was he now?

‘I’ve brought you a clean dress.’ The housekeeper gestured towards a gown hanging on the back of the door. ‘It’s one of mine, I’m afraid, but there was nothing else suitable. The mistress’s would all be too short.’

‘Thank you. I’ll return it as soon as possible, naturally. How is everyone this morning?’

The older woman’s stern features broke into an uncharacteristically wide smile. ‘Mrs Amberton’s feeling much better, she tells me. She’s had some sleep and breakfast, too. Captain Amberton and the babies are with her now.’

‘And... Lord Scorborough?’ She tried her best to sound nonchalant.

‘He’s having breakfast downstairs. He also suggested you might want a bath before you get dressed.’

‘Oh, yes, please!’ Frances sat up eagerly and then frowned. Arthur had suggested that? She remembered him insisting that she get out of her stained clothes the night before. Had she looked and smelled so terrible, then? A wave of embarrassment engulfed her. And he’d kissed her legs!

‘Very good.’ Mrs Gargrave nodded briskly. ‘I’ll arrange it.’

* * *

Half an hour later Frances slid into a tub filled almost to the brim with rose-petal-scented water. Never mind why Arthur had suggested it, she told herself, it felt wonderful, washing away all her anxieties from the night before and making her feel human again. Eagerly, she rubbed herself down with soap and then dipped her head under the surface, letting the bubble of the water fill her ears. She was still submerged when she heard a faint knock.

‘Yes?’ She surfaced again, expecting a maid, only to hear Arthur’s voice on the other side of the door.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Of course.’ She rolled on to her stomach and peered over the rim of the bath. ‘As long as you don’t mind.’

‘What would I mind?’ He took a few steps into the room, bearing a tray in one hand, and then stopped. ‘Ah. I didn’t think Mrs Gargrave would have arranged it quite so soon.’

She shrugged, feeling peculiarly unselfconscious, as if the water had swept away the last of her inhibitions. ‘It’s all right. I don’t mind if you don’t. You saw me in my undergarments last night.’

‘So I did.’ He moved closer towards her, though he kept his gaze averted. ‘I brought toast. I don’t suppose you want it in the bath?’

‘Bath toast?’ She giggled at the idea. ‘No, thank you, but you eat it if you like. I’ve been promised bacon and eggs later.’

‘Much better.’ He gestured at the floor beside the bath. ‘May I sit down?’

‘You may, although Mrs Gargrave might have a fit if she finds you here.’

‘Ah, but at this precise moment our fearsome housekeeper is gazing adoringly at my new niece and nephew.’ He took a bite of the toast and grinned. ‘She’ll be there for a while, trust me. Lance has finally done something she approves of.’

‘What if one of the maids comes in?’

‘Hmmm.’ He tapped his chin thoughtfully. ‘That is a problem. All right, if anyone comes in, you scream and I’ll dive under the bed. Or...’ he crossed the room again and turned the key ‘...we could just lock the door.’

‘Clever clogs.’ She made a face as he sat down on the floor beside her. ‘This was a lovely idea, though. Just what I needed.’

‘Good. Would you like me to wash your hair?’

‘Wash my...’ She blinked in surprise. ‘What?’

‘It’s not so shocking, is it?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘We’re almost married, after all, and I won’t look at the rest of you, I promise.’