Mary had taken no more than five steps down the corridor to her aunt’s room when the door to the bathing chamber opened, and out stepped Mr. Featherton. Though he wore a colorful silk banyan, he’d not fastened it all the way up, and a goodly portion of his chest stared her in the face. Dark curly hair dusted the part of him on display. He must not have been completely dry, as the fabric clung to his broad shoulders and hugged the rest of his body.
Mary’s mouth dried.Oh my!She’d never seen a man’s neck and chest before. Dragging her gaze up, she encountered his newly shaven chin and his mouth. For a moment, the corners of his well-shaped lips curved. Above his straight nose, his blue eyes darkened.
Oh dear.Thatwas what was sleeping mere feet away from her. It wasn’t only his manners that were perfect. Flames shot up her neck into her face, and she tore her gaze away. Her words came out more as a croak. “You should give a signal, or be dressed more properly.”
Then, to her chagrin, she darted away.
Without knocking, she burst into her aunt’s room, closing the door as quickly as she could and leaning back against it.
“Good heavens, Mary, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Eunice rose from the dressing table. “What is the matter?”
Mary’s heart raced. “M-Mr. Featherton.”
Eunice scowled. “If he touched you . . .”
“No no. He’d been bathing, and when I saw him . . .” Mary began to feel a little foolish. After all, she’d seen the Elgin Marbles. Granted, they’d not been damp, and dark curls hadn’t adorned their bodies, making her want to reach out . . . “It was just that part of his chest”—her face burned—“was—was naked.”
Her aunt covered her mouth with a hand. Laughter lurked in her voice. “Only a part?”
She nodded. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
Eunice put her arm around Mary’s shoulders, leading her to a small sofa against one wall. “Maybe just a little. Though you’ve been kept very close and have not been exposed to many men. I’m sure it must have been a shock. Sit for a moment, and I’ll pour you a sherry.”
The astonishing part was how much she’d wished to touch him. She wanted to know what his chest felt like. Would it be hard or soft? Would the curls be silky or springy?
She raised the glass of sherry, taking a sip. How was she to go on with him at Rose Hill? His simple presence in the corridor seemed to have robbed all the surrounding air. “I’ll be fine in a few moments. I never expected to see him there.”
“Well, Mary, it is his house.”
“Yes, but it’s been my home!” And her safe haven. She blinked back the tears blurring her vision. She was the one who’d cared for it, and improved the property, and—and now none of that mattered. “Why isn’t Grandmamma here yet?”
Eunice sat while her maid finished dressing her hair. “She must have been held up. Until she arrives you will have to find a way to deal with Mr. Featherton.”
Mary took another sip of sherry. “If only I had more experience engaging with men rather than running from them.”
Eunice glanced at Mary from the mirror. When she spoke, her tone was as dry as dust. “It is a little difficult to do that when almost every Season you’ve had has been either interrupted or cancelled by someone’s illness, death, or harassment.”
“I suppose you have a point. I shall learn. I must if I am to have a Season.”
Eunice turned to face Mary. “You have a great deal of common sense. Do not allow yourself to be led astray by fanciful thoughts or desires, and all will be fine. When it comes to selecting a husband, my only advice is to follow your head as well as your heart.” Her aunt rose. “Let us go. Mr. Doust is joining us for dinner.”
Mary linked her arm with Eunice’s. “I’m surprised you are encouraging him.”
A sly smile graced Eunice’s lips. “I think I may have been mistaken about how easily he shocks.”
That could only mean one thing. A chill ran down Mary’s spine. Soon the whole world would know, and she’d be ruined. “You told him!”
“He realized at once that you did not recognize Mr. Featherton until I said his name. Don’t worry. He is still the rector. He’ll not tell anyone.”
This situation was untenable. Mary chewed on her bottom lip. “Entirely too many people know already.”
The more people who knew, the harder it was to keep a secret. One that would ruin her.
As Lady Mary fled down the corridor, Kit groaned. That was not well done of him. He should have known she might see him. His behavior had always been above reproach. Unlike some of his friends, young ladies hadn’t even attempted to trap him, simply because no one would believe he’d misbehaved.
Still, when Mary had stared at his chest, his partially bare chest, his body reacted as it never had before. He’d wanted to crow when desire lurked for a moment in her lovely silver eyes. Or had it been fear?Damn.This would not do. Their position was untenable enough without him lusting after her. He’d have a word with Piggott. Another post-bath chance meeting must not happen again . . . at least not until they were married; then, he hoped, she’d consent to bathe with him.
Kit stepped into the drawing room a moment before the rector was announced and shown in. He wondered if Doust dined here on a regular basis or if he had been invited because of Kit. “Good evening. I was about to pour”—he glanced at the sideboard—“a glass of sherry. Will you join me?”
