Page 36 of The Favourite

“If I am to answer this, then I am taking this as the first of your questions,” she warned him.

He nodded. “Please do, for I am strangely intrigued.”

A wrinkle of concentration appeared on her forehead. “I would have expected a nightcap of towering proportions, with a very long tail and … and many pleats and ribbons all about.”

He nodded. “Anything else, or was I quite naked apart from the elaborate headwear?”

“Certainly not! I imagined your body was decked for sleep in the very finest of linens,” she said promptly. “It would be a lot of voluminous fabric with cunning tucks and ruffles to give it shape and … and very large sleeves.”

He hid his smile. “Perhaps I should have you speak to my tailor and make this stunning creation a reality. Is that the lot?”

She shook her head. “On your feet, you would also wear stockings with very long pointed toes.”

“How disappointing the reality must be!” he exclaimed, “but the fact of the matter is Jane, that there is no bed robe so decadent as nudity. You should try it sometime.”

She reddened and faced forward. “I would be far too cold for that, I fear.”

“I can assure you; you would not be. Not if I was there.”

“But you said—” She stopped abruptly.

“What, Jane?” He propped his head up with his hand. “What did I say?”

“You said you do not care for a bedpartner,” she pointed out.

“Ah, but I was not talking about sleeping.”

She cleared her throat, “Oh, I see. This would be one of those sporadic visits. The kind you pay your mistresses,” she added, sending him a fleeting glance.

He frowned. “The thought displeases you?”

“I know nothing about such things.”

“When do you think, you would like to learn?” he asked with a directness he did not usually employ.

She was silent a moment. The gods alone knew why he was holding his breath. “Is this your third and final question?” she asked.

He paused. “My third? You are being generous this evening. In truth, I thought I had used up all my questions already.”

She plucked at the bedsheets. “Well, it seems only fair. I have already asked you more than three this evening.” She threw a quick look at him. “Earlier, in the solar.”

“I answered them. ” He shrugged. “Besides, they were … interesting questions. Not what I would have expected from you.”

“You expected me to ask dull ones?” she said with a challenging lift of her brows, which should not have sent his pulse racing. It was doubtless the setting, lying in a bed with her like this. It felt intimate, even though they were not on such terms.

“I have never found you dull precisely,” he admitted lightly. “Instead, let us say, excessively polite.”

“Perhaps it occurred to me, you might not care for polite women in the bedchamber,” Jane said, and he almost gasped.

“Jane,” he whispered. “What a very bold thing to say.”

She was bright red by this point, but she kept her voice steady. “Perhaps you have underestimated me, Lord Bardulf,” she said sounding so correct and prim that he wanted to roll right on top of her, drag that ugly cap off her hair, and kiss that prim mouth until it forgot to be polite.

Instead, he eased himself onto his back, breathing hard until he had the impulse under control. It took embarrassingly longer than it should have. “You did not answer my final question,” he pointed out in a gravelly voice.

“Whenever you see fit, my lord,” she answered like the dutiful wife she was. Sadly, being dutiful was the last thing he wanted from her in this respect. Damn it.

Breathing out heavily, he shifted away from her to blow out his candles. “Goodnight, Jane,” he said, and even to his own ears, his tone sounded off. It was far too rough and husky; she must have noticed.