Page 62 of When She Was a Governess
“My lord,” Davies said.
“Thank you, Davies.” Henry began working at his cravat with fumbling fingers. “I’m… that is…she will be waiting for me.”
“I understand perfectly.” Davies moved to help him with the cravat, his hands steady while Henry’s were shaking.
Henry let Davies help him out of his coat, his waistcoat, his shirt. “At my age, I did not anticipate such nerves.”
“It is a night anticipated for a while now, my lord.” Davies smiled as he handed Henry his nightshirt. “It is natural to be nervous. However, I believe very soon you will feel many other things besides nerves.”
Henry felt heat rise to his face but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impertinent, Davies.”
Davies gave him a full grin this time. “Yes, my lord. Will you require anything else?”
“No. Thank you. You may go.”
Davies bowed and slipped from the room, leaving Henry alone in his nightshirt, staring at the connecting door that led to Sophia’s chambers.
He could hear movement on the other side, along with soft voices as Mrs. Shaw helped Sophia prepare. The rustle of fabric.A quiet laugh. Finally, the door of Sophia’s room opening and closing. Mrs. Shaw’s footsteps faded down the hallway.
Henry crossed to the door and stood there, his hand raised to knock, his heart pounding so loudly he was certain she could hear it through the wood. Then, gathering his courage, he knocked.
“Come in,” came Sophia’s soft voice.
He opened the door.
He had not often been in this room. He’d once imagined Eleanor would occupy the space, but after she died, he’d avoided even glancing at the door between the two bedchambers. But now, he took it in anew. In fact, it seemed as if had been made for Sophia. Pale blue silk covered the walls, and a fire burned cheerfully in the marble fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the room. A single oil lamp on the bedside table provided soft, steady light. A four-poster bed, curtains of cream damask tied back with silk cords, took up a large portion of the room. The coverlet had been turned down, revealing crisp white linens. A dressing table with an oval mirror stood against one wall, a wardrobe against another. Two comfortable chairs flanked the fireplace, and heavy velvet curtains had been drawn against the March night.
And standing by the fire, her hands clasped nervously in front of her, was Sophia.
Henry stopped, staring at her.
She wore a nightgown of fine white lawn, so delicate it seemed to float around her. The neckline was modest but edged with lace, and the long sleeves gathered at her wrists with pale blue ribbons that matched her eyes. And her hair was down, falling in loose waves past her shoulders, past her waist, catching the firelight and turning to spun gold. Seeing her like this, with her hair unbound and flowing free, was somehow more intimate than anything else.
Nothing in his past could have prepared him for the overwhelming nature of his feelings. Love and desire and admiration, but also familiarity. A feeling of rightness. This heavenly angel had come into his life and changed absolutely everything.
My God. How was this beautiful creature offering herself to him?
“I am ready, as you can see,” She twisted her hands in front of her. “Yet, I find myself quite overcome.”
“As am I.” His voice was more of a growl than words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I have never seen anything as beautiful as you are tonight.”
A blush rose in her cheeks. “Thank you, Henry.” Her flush deepened. “I must confess, I am not entirely sure what is supposed to happen next.”
“Perhaps we should talk for a moment? To put ourselves at ease.” He gestured to the chairs by the fireplace. “If that suits you?”
Relief flickered across her face. “I would like that very much.”
They settled into the chairs, the fire crackling softly between them.
“It was a splendid day,” Sophia said after a moment. “Wasn’t it?”
“The best day.” Henry leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’d anticipated the ceremony being somewhat tortuous.”
She burst out laughing. “Why?”
“Everyone looking at us, I suppose. Instead, I found myself fixated on you and forgot anyone else was even there. It moved me more than I thought it would.”
She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I felt the same.”
