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“Lovely,” he murmured.
She wished he would caress her back once more. “Is this garment customary for the women of India?”
“In parts.”
She turned to look at him. His eyes were like dark pools of chocolate as he looked down upon her.
“How fortunate you are to have traveled there.”
“It is no place for a gentlewoman.”
“I think I am no gentlewoman,” she said, her voice husky.
The corner of his mouth quirked upward. He slid his arm about her waist and pulled her to him. “Thank God.”
Her heart drummed in anticipation as she was pressed into his hard body. She waited for him to kiss her...and waited. He wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it in the erection against her abdomen. Why did he not kiss her?
He planted a soft and chaste kiss upon her brow. “Sleep well, Miss Herwood. There may be long nights ahead.”
Abruptly, he released her. She watched, bereft, as he bowed and took his leave. When the door had closed behind him, she let out an unladylike curse. What manner of sport was this? Why send her blood percolating if he had no intention of resolving the tension? Was it his intention to build anticipation or merely to tease her to prove his power?
She would have to take matters into her own hands. She crawled into the luxurious bed and pulled up her skirts underneath the covers. Finding the nub of flesh between her thighs, she sighed and sank into the pillows. As she stroked herself, she wondered why she desired this exasperating man? The Baron was handsome, but she had known men of superior countenance who had not affected her so.
Compared to her experience at the posting inn earlier today, her own fingers felt slight and unsatisfactory against her clitoris. After a few minutes, she relented. She wanted him and him alone. She watched the simmering fire in the fireplace until she fell into a deep slumber with hopes that her patience would be rewarded tomorrow.
* * * * *
The brightness of the sun slipping through the curtains informed Deana that it was late in the morning. She stretched her arms above her. The travels of yesterday had tired her more than she expected, but having spent one of the most comfortable nights, she felt quite rested and refreshed. She stared at the designs in the canopy above her. Her body surrounded by soft and sumptuous fabrics, she felt as if she had awoken in the chamber of a princess. With a contented sigh, she threw back the covers and walked over to the sideboard. Bhadra must have come in at one point for Deana found a towel, a brush for cleaning teeth, a pitcher filled with water, and other accoutrements of hygiene.
Just as she had finished cleansing her face, Bhadra entered with a tray. “Good afternoon, m’lady.”
“Afternoon?”
After setting the tray on a small table, Bhadra opened the curtains. “It is past the noon hour.”
Drawn to the coffee she smelled, Deana sat down at the table and helped herself to the delicious meal of eggs, ham, beans, and bread. Bhadra busied herself with laying out the clothes that she must have unpacked from the portmanteau.
“My clothes will never feel as pleasant after having worn a sari,” Deana remarked.
Bhadra gave her a small smile.
“Do you...service many guests?”
“There are many patrons of the Chateau.”
“Do they all wear attire such as this?”
“No. His lordship requested it specially for you.”
She was unsure if she should be pleased that he had singled out the garment for her. She decided to take advantage of the opportunity that Bhadra was less reserved than the prior night.
“Does his lordship come here often?”
Bhadra paused. “It has been some time.”
Deana mulled over the information. “Are there many other guests presently at the Chateau?”
“Not more than usual. Shall I brush your hair, m’lady?”
