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“I also gave my word that our liaison will remain secret. Your worldwon’tbe destroyed. Since the moment I saw you, I’ve only wanted you to smile, to know pleasure. I won’t see you hurt. When our time together ends, you’ll return to your safe world.”
What if I don’t want to return to my world?
She didn’t voice the rest of her fears, she simply held onto him. After a minute, his hands tightened on her waist, but only briefly. “Clara, if you’re truly to leave this morning, I’m afraid it’s time.”
She nodded. “I have to leave.”
James moved confidently, seemingly uncaring that he was nude. She lifted her chin and tried to follow suit. She set herself to gathering her multitude of clothing items.
When he strode to the door to his dressing room, she gasped and ran to the bed to cover herself.
“What is it?”
“Your valet!” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear, pointing to the dressing room.
James’s lips flattened. “My valet doesn’t sleep in there. He’s abed upstairs. I don’t need a damned man sleeping in the room next to mine so that I can be dressed like a lad as soon as I wake.”
Whatever his strange household practices, she was relieved.
He returned shortly, carrying fresh drawers and clothing, which he tossed onto the bed next to her pile. He looked appreciatively at her breasts, lifting as she smoothed the hair at her crown.
Despite her blush, Clara didn’t hide herself. “All of my careful planning, yet I find myself with my hair full of knots—and nude. I shall have to pen myself a list of items for next time. A hairbrush, a night rail—”
“You’ll have no need of a night rail here.” He paired his denial with a smile.
She glanced down, distracted by the square of wet linen he pressed against his ribcage.
“I’m warming it,” he explained. “The water in the basin is cold. Come, let me serve you again. Unless you wish for me to ring for the maid now?”
Clara shook her head, eyes wide. He tugged her hand until she stepped closer to him.
He gathered her hair in one hand, bringing it to her nape. Once her tresses hung down her back, he cleansed her belly with the moist linen warmed by his body.
Her hands closed over his forearms, steadying herself while she closed her eyes. His care was unbearably intimate, but also sad; he cleansed himself from her body.
Next, the linen dipped to her thighs, swiping gently.
You’ll return. You’ll have more of him, she promised herself.
When James finished his task, he kissed her neck before disappearing into his dressing room again. She donned her drawers and shift, then he helped her with her stockings and gown.
Wearing only his drawers, James tugged unceremoniously on the tapestry-covered wire to ring a bell downstairs.
Clara swallowed and smoothed her skirts. Whatever her bravado so far, it was time to face his servants—then her own—after a night of illicit passion. Their secret was not their own; both households would know their schedule, and the activities behind it.
She applied herself to plaiting her hair.
James finished dressing just as someone rapped lightly at the door. The cuffs of a maid’s uniform extended through the doorway, handing James a silver tray.
Clara’s eyes widened in horrified embarrassment as she recognized the objects on it. “Oh,” she exhaled until her lungs were empty.
With a wry smile, James approached her, proffering the objects on the gleaming tray. “My lady.”
She weaved on her feet, stumbling to the edge of the bed to sit.
It was one thing to be looked after by her own servants, some of whom had worked for her family throughout her life. It was quite another to imagine one of James’s servants gathering her pins.
“Can you imagine? Your maid must know now what we did in the drawing room! How torrid we’ve been.”
