Page 64 of When She Was a Governess
“I do not believe I will, Lord Montrose.” She yawned, snuggling closer to him.
“Sleep now, my love.”
“Will we have time to do it again in the morning?” Sophia asked, sounding sleepy. “Before Davies comes?”
“He will know to leave us be on the first day of our marriage.”
“Oh, that is good news.”
She made a small, contented sound and burrowed closer. Within moments, she was asleep. Henry lay awake a while longer, holding his wife, listening to her breathe, thankful for this unexpected love, until finally he too drifted to sleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Sophia woke tosunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains and the unfamiliar weight of an arm around her waist.
For a moment, she was disoriented. This wasn’t her old room in the nursery wing. The bed was too large, too soft. The sheets smelled of lavender and—
Henry.
Memory flooded back in a rush that made heat rise to her cheeks. The wedding night. The confessions of love. The intimacy that had followed. She was in the lady’s chambers. In her marriage bed. And the arm around her waist belonged to her husband.
Her husband, who loved her.
She turned carefully, not wanting to wake him, and found herself face to face with Henry. He was still asleep, his dark hair mussed, his expression relaxed in a way she’d never seen before. In sleep, he looked younger. The lines of worry that usually creased his forehead had smoothed away.
She loved him so much it physically hurt.
As if sensing her gaze, his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he looked as disoriented as she’d felt. Then his expression cleared, and he smiled—a slow, genuine smile that made her heart skip.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning.” She felt suddenly shy, though that seemed ridiculous after what they’d shared the night before.
“How do you feel?” His hand drifted up her bare arm, giving her goosebumps.
“Happy.” The word came easily. “Very happy. And you?”
“The same.” He leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet. “I was afraid I might wake up and find this was all a dream.”
“It was not a dream.” She pressed her palm to his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath her hand. “We’re really married. I am yours forever.”
“And I am yours.” He pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. They lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until a soft knock at the door made them both start.
“My lady?” Mrs. Shaw’s voice came through the wood. “I’ve brought breakfast. May I enter?”
Sophia glanced at Henry, suddenly aware that they were both still very much undressed. He grinned and pulled the coverlet up to her chin before calling out, “Come in, Mrs. Shaw.”
The door opened and Mrs. Shaw entered carrying a large tray. If she was surprised to find Lord Montrose in his wife’s bed, she gave no sign. Her expression was perfectly neutral as she set the tray on the table by the fire.
“Good morning, my lord, my lady. I thought you might prefer breakfast here this morning.” Her eyes twinkled slightly. “Given the circumstances.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Shaw,” Sophia said, grateful the coverlet hid her flaming cheeks.
“I shall leave you be for now. Ring the bell if you should need anything at all. The rest of the staff has been informed to stay away unless asked for. Your brothers and their wives have already left for London. They left their best wishes.”
“Very good, Mrs. Shaw,” Henry said. “I do not anticipate we will need you until much later in the day.”
“As you wish, Lord Montrose.” Mrs. Shaw curtsied and withdrew, closing the door softly behind her.
