CHAPTER ELEVEN
Had she irked him? Lizzy wondered, half-amused with her own antics, for she was indeed using discourse as a stalling mechanism and a facade for her own nervousness.
She had been on edge for some time and receiving the blindfold had helped matters none at all.
While the darkness of the room helped to conceal her, it also obscured his features.
She had suspected the mysterious man to be Nicholas at first. She had no aversion to the thought of Nicholas as ‘instructor,’ but the form of the other occupant was not as sinewy and, unless Nicholas was assuming a different personality, the speech, being more deliberate and less animated, did not match.
She then speculated that perhaps it was one of the servants, for she had observed no other person at Trenwith House, but the manners of the stranger did not fit a hireling.
Well, she had asked of her own volition for this, and it would be silly of her not to see it through.
“Is the blindfold truly necessary?”
“Will you talk less without it?”
“Now who is the one doing the provoking?”
“Touché. Let us cease the verbal sparring and attend to the purpose of this night.”
Lizzy hesitated. Was she truly ready for this?
“We will proceed only as you wish,” he reassured.
Not wishing to be one of those flighty women who knew not their own mind, she replied, “I am ready.”
She heard his footsteps approach the bed and silently cursed the blindfold. It increased her perturbation. She sat at an angle to the edge of the bed, and she sensed him standing behind her.
“Permit me to loosen the robe about your shoulders.”
Realizing she had been clutching the garment tightly about her, she loosened her grip. He slid the rob a few inches off her shoulders. Her heart stilled.
“I will touch your right shoulder,” he said.
Dear God, Lizzy breathed to herself and shut her eyes despite all previous attempts to see through the fabric.
Her heart resumed an erratic beat. While she had never bared herself before a man with whom she was not familiar, her nerves would indicate she had never been with a man at all before.
Granted, the nature of what was to happen was entirely different than the congress she had engaged in previously, but when he placed a hand upon her right shoulder, his touch, warm and steady, felt devoid of anything wanton.
After allowing her time to become accustomed to the weight of his hand, he told her, “I will now move toward your neck.”
He slid his hand toward her neck. With his thumb, he smoothed the flesh near her shoulder blade. She shivered.
“Much tension is accumulated in this area. I shall attempt to ease it.” He kneaded the shoulder with his thumb and fingers. “The neck is an intimate area, but I will be gentle.”
He cupped the base of her neck and rubbed both sides in steady circular motions.
At first, she did not like his hand there.
She felt disconcertingly vulnerable and began to cough.
He removed his hand and waited patiently for her to calm.
When she had cleared her throat, he resumed his ministrations.
“I will now tend to the left shoulder as well.”
He placed both hands upon her, gripping and rubbing her shoulders in firm but tender grasps.
Her breath returned to a normal pace, gradually elongating as her shoulders relaxed.
He moved a hand once more to her neck and rubbed away the stiffness.
She had not realized the amount of strain in these parts.
As his hand moved up her neck, she felt like melting into his grasp, finding the application of his hands now quite pleasant and soothing.
With both hands, he pressed his fingers about the area behind her ears, lulling her into a trance-like state.
“Feeling better?”
She murmured an affirmative.
“You may now remove your robe.”
Her nerves stood at attention once more. “Already?”
“I would have you lie upon the bed that we may continue in the same manner upon the whole of the back. We are far from any lewd activity, if that is what you fear.”
Was lewd activity not her objective? Slowly, she eased her arms from the robe.
There. She was naked but for her undergarments before a completely unfamiliar member of the opposite sex.
Despite the warmth from the fire, she was conscious of every inch of exposed skin as if she were met with an icy cold.
The ensuing silence, though brief, felt of an eternity.
She heard the rustle of pillows being moved near her.
Then he took her gently by the arms and guided her into position atop a pile of plush pillows along the foot of the bed.
She was prone, face-down, blindfolded, defenseless.
Was she mad for placing such trust in a stranger?
Not only were her legs wholly on the bed, but her ankles were bare before him.
“The purpose of the following activity is for you to relax, mademoiselle. Let your limbs calm, and free your mind of all but peaceful thoughts. Take a deep breath and release it slowly.”
She did as told, and the comforting effect was immediate. She allowed herself to settle into the luxuriant bed, its linen among the finest and most silken she had ever felt.
“Once more.”
He had her take near a dozen such breaths, which had the desired result of softening the edges of her nerves.
“I will now unlace the corset.”
Lizzy embraced the pillow beneath her chest. This was not at all what she had expected. Where were the floggers, crops and other implements of pain? Was this the calm that preceded the storm?
“Breathe,” he reminded her.
The bed sank with his weight. He sat near her hip. She felt his hands upon the laces. When he had them undone, he pried apart the stiff material. The bed rose, and she heard him take his place at the edge of the bed before her head.
“I will now apply a pomade to your back.”
She heard him uncork a bottle. The scent of hibiscus wafted through the air.
She heard him rub his hands, then felt them gliding upon her shoulders and her upper back.
She shivered at where his hands were and considered if they might yet find their way to even more intimate areas. The thought agitated and excited her.
“I will repeat my earlier application to your shoulders.”
The tension had collected once more, and she welcomed the kneading of her shoulders and neck.
“Where did you learn such a fine skill?” she murmured.
“From my mentor.”
“Is that all?”
“I answered your question.”
“You are not a man of many words.”
“That is a sweeping statement given upon limited observation.”
“Ah, are you quite garrulous in other circumstances?”
“Are you here for conversation?”
“I am not acquainted with the proper etiquette for such a situation and would not wish to appear impolite. But I suppose, as we are defying the greatest of propriety by our actions here, the customary politesse need not apply.”
“If you wish.”
“I did not mean to imply a preference for abandonment but to comment upon the irony of—oh!”
His hands had slid beneath her chemise toward her lower back.
In similar manner, his hands grasped and rubbed her along both sides of her spine, at one point perilously close to scraping the sides of her breasts.
He had been diligent in providing her advance notice of what he was to do, and the surprise left her bereft of words.
She idly wondered if that had been his intention.
His hands had been upon her lower back earlier, but now they lingered there, gradually working their charm.
Without sight, she was deprived of a major source of stimulation and had mostly the sense of touch to focus upon.
She found she rather liked the feel of his hands, masculine in their size and strength but possessing a gentle touch.
Her resistance melting away, she allowed him to continue in silence and herself to enjoy the effect of his efforts. Before she realized it, the steady crackle of the fire and soothing motions of his hands had lulled her to sleep.