Chapter Sixteen #3
She placed a hand to his forehead and breathed a sigh of relief when it felt cool to the touch.
Nevertheless, she rose from his side for a moment to dampen one of her handkerchiefs in the ewer perched on a night table.
After wringing it out, she returned to his side.
“Keep this on your forehead for a little while.”
He did not protest, so she suspected he might have had a headache even if there was no accompanying fever.
She stayed by his side and removed her boots, then did the same with his. “Do not help me,” she insisted. “Your stitches, remember? I can manage this for you.”
However, she did ask for his help in unlacing her gown. In truth, it was something she could have managed herself. But he appeared to be growing restless, not liking that she was taking on all the chores while he lay abed.
There was hardly anything to do. How was any of this onerous in the least?
But she liked the idea of having him assist her in removing her gown. Not only was it helpful, it was intimate as well.
He took his time with each lacing, and his touch felt wonderful. She tingled everywhere he touched her. She burned wherever he caressed her.
This man knew how to melt a lady.
She forced herself to tear away from his side in order to remove the packet of letters hidden in the secret pocket of her gown.
Trajan frowned. “What are you doing?”
“I thought to ask one of the inn’s maids to freshen my gown. It is so dusty. I’ll choke if I have to wear it tomorrow.” She held up the packet of letters. “I had better hide these elsewhere.”
“Put them in your travel pouch for now,” he said. “No one’s going to touch them there.”
“All right.” She supposed it was more sensible than sticking them under the mattress and leaving them behind as they hurried to catch the mail coach.
After securing them in the pouch, she removed her gown and set it aside to hand over to the maid when their meal was brought in.
The fabric was dusty and a little wrinkled.
It only required the dust shaken off and a quick pressing.
This should not take long. The maid could return the garment by the time she and Trajan finished dining.
“How about you? Anything you wish to give over for cleaning?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“All right.” She was not going to insist, since tomorrow’s ride would be just as dusty.
She thought to don her nightgown and robe, but wanted to wash up first. She wore only her shift, a practical cotton garment, but the material was thin and one could see through it under a bright enough light.
Perhaps he might think her shameless, but she really did not care if he saw all of her. In fact, it was time that he did, and she hoped he might do something about it tonight.
While Trajan watched her, she took a cloth, dampened it, and then applied soap to the cloth. She then ran it over her body to wash the layers of dirt off her skin.
This inn was of the highest quality, she noted.
Where else would Farthingale soaps be provided for their guests?
And they had a choice, no less. Lined up beside the basin and ewer were four cakes from which to choose.
She put her nose to each one and inhaled.
Sandalwood was the obvious choice for Trajan when he washed up.
The next two were fruity scents. Peach and strawberry. The last was citrus. Lemon.
She felt like a peach.
Trajan looked quite comfortable as he watched her, his hands still clasped behind his head and the damp handkerchief still on his forehead.
When she was done, she donned her robe and dug out her brush from the travel pouch. She then unpinned her hair and was about to brush it when Trajan tossed the handkerchief aside and sat up. “Come here, Florence,” he said in a husky murmur that had her insides melting. “Let me help you with that.”
His smoldering gaze burned into her. By his wicked smile, Florence knew he meant to do more than merely brush her hair.
Her heart skipped beats.
She sat beside him and gave her back to him. He spent more time running his fingers through her hair and nuzzling her neck than actually brushing. Then he slipped the robe and the sleeves of her shift off her shoulders to bare them to his lips.
Dear heaven.
This was most exciting.
But how were they to get anything accomplished when he was so distracting?
A knock at the door had her bolting to attention. “That’s our food.”
He laughingly groaned and sank back onto the mattress. “Ah, yes. We did order a meal, didn’t we?”
“Do you want your boots polished? The garments you wore today dusted off? These are quick chores, and we could request to have everything brought back before we fall asleep tonight.”
“Florence, stop darting about. You are making me dizzy. Are you worried about something?”
She shook her head. “Not worried, just…uncertain. I like the way you were touching me. I’ve never experienced these sensations before.”
“I know, love,” he said gently, and rose to walk to the door. “But you’ll like what’s to come. I should not have started something when I knew we would be interrupted.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“Good. This is to be continued after supper,” he said, then gave her a quick kiss on the lips before he opened the door.
As the maid rolled in the cart, their room filled with a delicious aroma. Florence handed her gown to the girl, and Trajan did the same with his jacket and boots. He then gave the girl several coins. “We’ll need them back within the hour.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The maid scurried off with the bundle of garments and his boots.
Trajan shut the door and then turned to Florence. “Are you hungry? Or of a mind to continue what I started before we were interrupted?”
She melted at his wicked grin that also managed to be tender and endearing. “What do you wish to do? I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“What? Eat?”
She laughed. “It’s nice being here with you.”
“Makes one forget we are on the run from a desperate, deranged lord that I hope will not be soon on our trail.”
“Ugh, do not mention him. You’ll spoil what I hope will be a most promising night for me. My first time. I’ve never been with a man before.”
“I know, love. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
She cast him a gentle smile. “I’m looking forward to it. But may we eat first? I’m famished.”
“So am I.”
He hastily washed up before sitting down to supper, choosing the sandalwood soap for himself.
Florence inhaled his scent as he sat beside her at the small table in their quarters. “Nice.”
He breathed her in and gave her a heated kiss on the neck in return. “Even nicer.”
She smiled as she dished out the simple repast of ham in a honey glaze and roasted potatoes that they both enjoyed.
As they were finishing the hearty meal, the maid returned with his polished boots and their refurbished clothes. Trajan waited for the girl to wheel the cart out of their chamber, and then he latched the door and propped a chair against it for added security.
“The chair will topple if anyone tries to get in. I’m a light sleeper and will certainly hear the thud if it falls.
” He next tucked a knife under his pillow, set his boots beside him, and tucked a pistol in the lip of the right boot.
“Probably unnecessary, but why take chances?” He took the letters out of her pouch and tucked them into the hidden pocket of the gown she was to wear tomorrow.
“One less thing to remember as we scramble out of here in the morning.”
She nodded. “What next?”
He cast her a breathtaking smile. “I kiss you.”