Page 14 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed
And besides, Alistair had made it clear he did not want her changing anything in his household. Or hanging on his sleeve. She could always try to assert herself, as she had at the beginning of her first marriage. The pain and humiliation of having her husband take a birch switch to her palms to remind her to keep her hands out of his affairs had been a bitter lesson.
She did not think Alistair would beat her, he was too much the gentleman, but his coldness was in some ways worse. She never knew quite where she stood with him. Did she offend, or merely bore him? Doubtless it was the general regret of marrying a woman so far beneath him.
Her blood ran cold. Did he, too, fear someone might recognise her from the night of the auction?
She crawled up on to the bed and leaned back against the cushions Robins had arranged so that her hair would not touch either the pillows or the headboard. She poured herself a cup of tea and inhaled the soothing fragrance of mint. A sip told her it had been perfectly prepared.
Slowly her head seemed less inclined to spin. Her eyelids felt weighted. Sleep beckoned.
* * *
Something deliciously cool pressed against her forehead. ‘Julia.’ A male voice. ‘Julia, wake up.’ A demand.
She forced her eyelids open. A face wavered in and out of focus. ‘Alistair?’
He muttered something under his breath that sounded a little like a prayer. Or not. He looked irritated rather than prayerful. She glanced around. Why was it so dark? And where—? Oh, yes, the inn. Robins had closed the curtains.
She stretched. For long seconds her husband gazed at her chest, his hard thin mouth softening sensually. There was no mistaking his interest in that unguarded moment. Was this then the way through his armour?
His gaze rose to her face, full of concern. She offered a smile of apology. ‘I must have fallen asleep.’
‘So it seems,’ he said. His voice sounded rougher than usual. ‘How do you feel?’
She pushed herself upright. Everything stayed where it should. She felt refreshed and her headache was gone. ‘Much better, I must say. The tea helped enormously.’
‘I’m glad.’ For once he sounded relieved, rather than bored.
‘I do beg your pardon. It was not my intention to sleep so long. I wonder that Robins did not wake me.’
‘You aren’t late. Yet.’ He grimaced. ‘I told Robins to let you sleep a while longer, but when I didn’t hear any movement, I thought I should look in on you.’
An unlooked-for courtesy. One that made her heart stutter.
He rose from his seat on the edge of the bed. He had exchanged his riding coat and boots for evening dress, whereas she still wore her carriage gown.
‘I must change.’ She began undoing the buttons. He watched her hands with a peculiar intensity. Her face warmed. ‘Will you ring the bell for Robins, please?’ Oh, now why had that popped out of her mouth? Wasn’t being alone with him exactly what she had wanted?
She pinned what she hoped was a seductive smile on her lips. ‘That is unless you don’t mind doing the honours?’
Surprise warred with another expression she could not read.
She held her breath. What would he choose?
‘I will ring for your dresser.’ He strode to the bell.
