Page 98 of The Lord Meets His Lady
“I meant bywhatnames.”
“Same as before, milord. I’m still Miss Turner.”
“Haven’t I earned the boon of addressing you by your Christian name?” He set his elbows on the side of the tub and sat up taller. “Winter can be a very long, cold season.”
Laughing softly, she sauntered to the scullery. “As it always has been.”
She pressed against the lintel, half her body in sight, the other half hidden. Genevieve’s dark-blue gown sported a higher bodice. The most modest one his housekeeper-cum-wife owned. Her braid was coming loose, and strands of hair fell around her face.
“You’ve done me a great kindness,” she said, removing her apron. “Letting you call me by my Christian name is a small thing.”
“I am allowed to call you Genevieve, then?”
“You may.” She balled up the apron in her hands. “In private.”
The steamy bath, the cozy scullery, running off the Wolf, had twined another level of intimacy between them. No doubt the game had changed. Marcus tugged his earlobe, the Prussian’s words coming to mind again. Was he all about his own entertainment? Marcus swiped the soapy cloth down his chest.
Genevieve’s gaze followed the soapy line. “Do you have plans tonight? Anything away from the cottage?”
“And miss the exciting conclusion of Ben Franklin’s discourse on electricity?”
Her chin dipped, and the warmest smile spread across her face. “We’ve already read it through twice, milord.”
“Good reason to make sure it ends the same.” He smiled and wrung out the washcloth.
“I wasn’t sure with Baron Atal’s house party.”
“Festivities begin tomorrow and run for the next week.”
“Then I shall enjoy your companionship for as long as I can,” she murmured.
Her knowing smile singed him while he tried to get comfortable in the old wooden tub. He dunked the linen underwater and rinsed his chest.
“I’m already soaking in hot water, yet your presence turns up the heat.”
She grazed his forearm, her fingernails lightly scraping his skin. “Do you need some assistance?”
His skin pebbled from her bold touch. Glorious brown eyes took their fill of him through the steamy curtain floating between them.
“Forgive me if I assume too much, but are you propositioning me,Wife?”
His nipples pinched to two brown points as his lungs worked harder for air. To be watched by a beautiful woman was potent like the first swallow of port wine. A corner of his muddled brain cried foul after her declaration last eve. Yet Genevieve stood in the middle of the scullery, smiling a genuine, heartrending, warm-him-to-the-soles-of-his-feet smile.
“You make me happy, milord.”
This was a new development. He wet the washcloth again and slapped it on his arm. “High praise, indeed.”
She nibbled her bottom lip again. “What if I told you I’ve been rethinking my position with you?”
“As housekeeper?”
She blushed and dragged the stool close for a seat. “No, I mean us…together. In thebiblicalsense.”
His elbows pressed the tub’s wooden rim. “I’d say ‘Don’t look in the water.’ Parts of me have already mutinied in your favor.”
Genevieve peered into the tub, her winged brows nudging higher. He chuckled at her nature getting the better of her. For once, he had the upper hand. This new twist needed a deft hand, and that meant letting her take the lead. Keeping her lashes low, she tried hard not to stare at his erection. She tucked hair behind her ears twice, all while fidgeting on the stool. They should be past flights of nervousness, yet the woman who’d propositioned him last night, thisexperiencedgirl from the Golden Goose was just that. Nervous.
He touched her chin, stroking the stubborn point. “You’ve more to say. Out with it.”
