Page 32 of Lady of Charade
Through tired eyes, Sarah watched as David stood before her bed, staring down upon it as though it were a puzzle waiting to be solved. She was well aware that he had likely never changed bed linens before, and most assuredly not those that were completely soiled.
“Are you sure—” she began to call out, but he held up a hand to stop her words as he went to work.
Sarah leaned her chin upon her fist as her eyes began to close, but she couldn’t keep from watching the scene in front of her. From all she knew of David Redmond, he should be the last person on earth not only keeping her company in her rooms each night — with nothing asked in return — but also doing her bidding during a birthing, and now actually cleaning up afterward. Who was this man?
One thing was for certain — she could no longer deny the rush of emotion coursing through her as he worked in front of her. He had stripped off his jacket and waistcoat so that he was now down to his linen shirt, and she could see his lean muscle stretch the fabric of it, while his breeches molded perfectly over the back of his legs when he bent down. He was a fine specimen of a man, there was no doubt about it, and she longed to see him in his true form once more.
It was then she began to hear his mutterings, and she realized he was giving himself some instruction — or perhaps arguing with himself over the next step to take in the procedure he was currently undertaking.
She began to laugh, though silently, for she knew he might take that as an insult and she was actually impressed that he was performing a task she knew would be far beneath him. It was strange, how a person could be known by one reputation but then act in a completely different manner.
When he turned to ask where the new linens might be and she pointed them out, she was sure to hide her mirth. And when he finally finished in making up the bed, he turned, throwing his arms out in a flourish. Sarah had never in her life had to work so hard to maintain control over her emotions as she did when she received a good look at the bed. It was the untidiest, most terrible bed-making she had ever seen in her life, but at least it was clean. And he was so incredibly proud of his efforts, she could do nothing but fix a thankful smile on her face and stand as she walked over to him.
“Thank you,” she said, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to reach out and take his hands within hers. “You have been more than kind.”
“You need someone to look after you,” he said gruffly, causing a deep ache to begin in her chest. She had looked after herself for so very long, the thought of someone else doing so was almost too much to bear, for there was equally as great a chance that it would never actually come to be.
“I appreciate that, truly I do, but I am perfectly capable in looking out for myself,” she said, and he tugged at her hands, forcing her to look up at him.
“No one is fine alone.”
She realized then that he was talking not only of her but himself as well. She knew he had family here — in fact, that was where he had been this evening — but she was equally aware that they were not particularly close.
“How was dinner?” she asked, feeling as though she had taken all of his attention and not provided any back to him.
He shook his head. “I have no wish to speak of it at the moment.”
“But—”
He lifted a hand and placed his finger upon her lips.
“Let’s get you into bed,” he said, releasing her hands, leaving her feeling bereft, as he pulled out the privacy screen for her.
“Change,” he ordered, and only then did she realize she was still wearing the same clothes as she had for the past fair number of hours, and suddenly the thought of being rid of them was greater than any other longing currently within her. She did as he said, reveling in the feel of the loose fabric of her nightrail settling overtop her chemise. She pulled her wrapper around her and stepped out, her bare feet padding over the hardwood floor.
“Better?” she asked, stretching her arms wide, but then suddenly felt as though she were leaving herself rather too open and vulnerable as his green eyes seemed to darken, becoming somewhat smoky.
She swallowed, but before he said anything regarding her current state of dress, he turned away and began to roll out his blankets.
Sarah lay down under her own, but despite her exhaustion, she found that she could only stare at the ceiling, sleep eluding her, particularly after David blew out the lanterns and she could hear him rustling around in his own coverings.
Her mind began to war with her heart over what she should do, what she should say. For she knew that to become closer to him in any way would only endanger her heart all the more, and yet… did she not deserve one night to enjoy herself, to act upon the emotion coursing through her, that would not leave her be?
“David?” she finally whispered into the dark room. “Are you sleeping?”
“No,” came his short, terse reply, and wondered if he was being surly because she had awoken him.
“Are you tired?”
“No, but you are,” came his reply.
“Would you…” she began, but her voice was a soft whisper. “Would you come lie with me?”
The room went silent, and Sarah squeezed her eyes shut as his lack of response. Had she completely misread what she had assumed were signs of his attraction toward her? She was not particularly experienced nor skilled in matters of flirtation, that was for certain. Suddenly her entire body went warm at the embarrassment coursing through her.
“Please, forget I said anything,” she said hurriedly. “I was only asking because—”
“Because…” he continued as her words died out, as she had no idea what excuse she could offer. Only, she then heard him push back his own coverings and walk toward her, the floorboards creaking under his footsteps. As he slowly sat down next to her on the bed, her body rolled toward his weight on the uneven mattress.
