The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3) - Page 68

‘Won’t it be hard not to?’

‘Pull your knees up if you like. Although it really doesn’t matter. You saw me practically naked the first day we met, remember?’

‘It’s not a sight I’m likely to forget.’ She gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘I’ve had nightmares ever since.’

‘Is that so? Then I’ll strive to cover up from now on.’

‘Too late. I’m afraid I already know the worst. But you can wash my hair anyway.’ She pulled her knees up as instructed and folded her arms around them. ‘And that wasn’t the first day we met. We’ve known each other for years.’

‘I suppose so, though in some ways all that feels like a different lifetime. We were different people back then.’

‘I know what you mean.’ She tilted her head back as he ran his fingers over her scalp. ‘I wonder where we’d both be if you hadn’t left and I hadn’t had my accident?’

‘I wouldn’t be washing your hair, that’s for certain. Where’s the soap, by the way?’

‘I dropped it.’ She rummaged in the tub and then passed it to him. ‘Here.’

‘Thank you.’ He rubbed his hands together to make a lather and then stroked them over her head. ‘How’s that?’

‘Perfect.’ She sighed. ‘Mrs Gargrave says that Violet’s feeling better.’

‘Yes, the doctor’s coming back later this morning, but I think the danger’s past. She and Lance are holed up in their room with the babies and the whole house is besotted.’

‘Including you?’

‘Maybe a little, especially with your little namesake.’

‘My what?’

‘Your namesake. Only I’m afraid that it’s Francis with an i, not an e. It seems that Lance already promised to name his daughter after somebody else.’

‘Who?’

‘Sophoria Gibbs. Apparently she was instrumental in bringing him and Violet together.’

‘So they’re Francis and Sophoria?’ She felt genuinely delighted. ‘I like that. Frank and Sophie.’

‘Your nephew and niece when we’re married.’ His voice sounded huskier again.

‘Yes, I suppose so...’ She tipped her head back again, giving him an upside-down smile before resting her shoulders on the back of the tub. She didn’t care how much of her he saw any more. She felt completely relaxed, as if the previous night’s experiences had drawn them even closer together. With his hands in her hair and the heat of the water surrounding her, she felt utterly and completely happy. Maybe today could be her wedding day after all, she decided impulsively.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Arthur had the strong suspicion that he was trying to drive himself mad. That was the only logical explanation for why he’d volunteered to wash her hair. That and the fact that he’d wanted an excuse to touch her. After tucking her into bed the previous night and then settling himself into one of the wicker chairs by the window, he’d woken up positively aching to hold her again. Some particularly vivid dreams hadn’t helped...

‘Did I smell so bad?’

‘Hmmm?’ He stilled his hands as they threaded through her hair, taken aback by the question.

‘Last night.’ She twisted her head, peering over her shoulder at him in such a way that he caught a glimpse of one perfectly formed breast. ‘Mrs Gargrave said that a bath was your idea. I wondered if it was because I smelled so terrible.’

‘I can’t say that I noticed, though if you had then it would have been perfectly understandable. I don’t care about things like that, Frances.’

‘I know.’ She turned her face away again, though from the tone of her voice he could tell she was smiling. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you before.’

‘Is that a good thing?’

‘Yes, you don’t judge people the way everyone else does. You don’t care what other people expect of you either.’

Tags: Jenni Fletcher Whitby Weddings Romance
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