Page 47 of Sincerely, the Duke
“No, no.” He stepped farther into the room, hoping his eyes would quickly adjust to the darkness. There weren’t even any embers glowing from the fireplace. “Why is it so dark in here?”
“I thought I was supposed to turn out the lamp.”
Maybe that’s what she’d been told to do, but he’d see it didn’t happen again. He couldn’t see his hand when he held it right in front of his face. Part of the joy of lyingwith a woman was being able to see her beautiful body as he touched it.
“I’m going to relight the lamp.” As soon as he could find the damn thing.
He headed in what he assumed was the general direction of the bed and…thunk. “Bloody hell,” he whispered on a tight wince and a grunt as his big toe throbbed with shooting pain.
“What is it? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” he managed to say and then swore under his breath like a season-hardened dockworker who’d missed his shore leave. “I’m all right.” He’d stubbed his toe on the end of the iron foot of the bed. And it hurt like hell, but at least he’d found the bed.
Hobbling along the side of it, he glided his hand over the coverings until he felt the pillows at the headboard, and then reached for the nightstand. After a few seconds of fumbling with the lamp he managed to light it. Precious, golden glow spilled into the room.
When he turned toward Edwina he blinked. The provocative fantasy lady he’d imagined propped against satin pillows in a silky nightgown was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his wife. It took him several seconds to find her buried under a stack of covers. All he saw was a pair of wide-open eyes staring at him from the far side of the bed. Edwina held the dark covers pulled up and over her nose. A brown mobcap covered her beautiful hair and the wide band of lace trimming it came down to rest just below her eyebrows.
Rick’s heart pumped at an erratic beat. He had never seen so little of a woman.
He searched his mind for what to say. “Are you cold?” he asked, feeling a little impatient with the wayhe found her and because his seductive dream had been shattered.
“No,” she answered quietly, her eyes looking blankly at him. “It’s very warm under here.”
Tightly as she was covered up, there was no doubt about that. He’d heard of ladies who were exceptionally prim and frightened on their wedding night but as strong as Edwina was, he hadn’t expected her to be that way. Was she frightened of him, or what they were about to do?
“You need to let go of the covers so I can pull them down and join you on the bed.”
“All right,” she answered, but hesitated before her fingers relaxed. She slowly drew the bedding down her face and stopped just under her chin.
“I’ll help you,” he offered quietly, trying to adjust from what he’d imagined to what was happening.
Rick bent over the bed and pulled the bedcovers and linens all the way down to her knees. She dropped her arms to her sides and lay still as a board. He blinked, and blinked, and blinked again. He had no idea what she was wearing. It looked like a brown feed sack. The long sleeves covered most of her fingers and the neckline rose almost to her chin.
He’d never seen anything like it except winter coats—possibly a burial shroud or prison garb. Nothing could have prepared him for the way his bride appeared in the drab color and ridiculous mobcap covering her gorgeous hair.
“What the devil do you have on?” he asked, tamping down the prickle of irritation at realizing she obviously hadn’t been anticipating the same kind of wedding night he had. He’d been almost desperate to see her and obviously she’d been desperate to hide from him.
The fact his toe continued to throb didn’t help his attitude.
“It’s a nightshift. This is the thickest one I have. In winter, it gets cold in York.”
Yes, well, she wasn’t in York, and it wasn’t ever going to get cold enough for her to wear that thing again. Whenever he got it off her, it was going straight into the fire.
Slowly, Rick lowered his weight onto the edge of the bed, being careful with his toe, and stretched his lean body beside her, resting on his elbow facing her. The sounds of shifting weight upon the mattress and rustling bedsheets tightened his lower body and filled him with an urgent sense of intimacy he couldn’t wait to explore with her. Yet, as impatient as he was, he knew he had to take this night slow. Very slow.
Light spilled over his shoulder and he could clearly see the rise and fall of her chest. Her breath was deep and fast. Was she that frightened of him? The corners of her eyes twitched, yet her face seemed frozen as she watched him. He needed to do something to calm her.
He didn’t touch her but could feel the nervous heat of her body next to him. The contact was warm, inviting, and instantly arousing. For a long moment, he stared into her eyes and let his gaze drift down her face, neck, and linger over the slight swell of breasts barely showing beneath the brown wool before sweeping back up to her lovely face again.
Astonishment flickered in her wary expression, but there was no panic. A good sign.
“Do you usually sleep in bonnets?” He reached over and gently brushed the lace of her mobcap away from her forehead and folded it back over the crown.
Her eyes watched his movement as she nodded.
“I think your hair is beautiful and would like to look at it. Do you mind if I take off your nightcap? It’s not freezing in London tonight. I don’t think you’re going to need it.” At her consent, he gently freed her hair from the offending covering. He dropped it to the floor, assuring himself it would go the way of the gown she wore.
Rick ran his fingertips down her cheek and smiled. The stiffness left her face and she twitched a bit of a smile too. He was beginning to see a little humor in the way she’d prepared for her wedding night.
