Page 345 of Historical Hotties
Braxton grunted as he struggled to sit up and throw his legs over the side of the bed. “I do not suppose you would allow me to have her all to myself.”
“I would not.”
“Then you are invited, you spoiler of an old man’s joy.”
Bastian grinned as he went to the door and opened it to summon the older servant who had been assisting his father for many years. He noticed that his chamber door across the hall was open. He couldn’t help the smile on his lips as he became aware that his wife was awake. He hadn’t seen her since yesterday and realized, as he looked at the cracked-open door, that he was eager to see her again.
Odd how he felt excitement at the thought of seeing a woman he never wanted to be married to. Just the short amount of time he had spent with her yesterday, coming to know a woman of intelligence and humor, was enough to make him look forward to more time with her. He could hardly believe he felt that way, but he did. Given the resistance he had shown towards marrying her, he felt a bit foolish in his eagerness.
Struggling to be casual, and suppress any outward excitement he might have been exhibiting, Bastian made his way across the corridor and rapped gently on the door panel. Pushing it open and sticking his head into the darkened room, the first thing he saw was dimples.
A siren’s song, at that moment, could not have been more compelling than the sight of those delightful dimples.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gisella had beenso exhausted that she slept the rest of day and most of the night. Bastian left her alone, and instructed his aunts to leave her alone, after she had fallen asleep in her shoes and clothing on top of the coverlet in his bedchamber. But Aunt Beatrice fussed that she still had her shoes on and Aunt Cynthia wanted Bastian to cover her up so that she would not be cold, so Bastian very carefully removed her small slippers and covered her up with a lamb’s skin blanket that Aunt Cynthia gave him. Tucked in and cozy, Gisella slept the sleep of the dead.
The following morning just before dawn, Gisella awoke in a dark, unfamiliar room. She had no idea where she was, or what time it was, and she sat up in bed so fast that she ended up rolling off the end. Falling to her knees, she struggling to remember where she was and slowly, it began to come back to her.
Lady de Russe. She was married now and thoughts of her swift wedding were blurry, as if she had dreamt them, but thoughts of Bastian once they had reached West Court were much clearer. He had changed dramatically after their arrival and became civil, even kind. It was quite possible that he wassimply putting on a show for his family but she didn’t think so because he had been kind even in moments when they had been alone. Picking herself up off the floor, her thoughts lingered on Bastian and also on Sparrow. She wondered where the woman was and she was anxious to see her. She hoped her friend didn’t feel as if she’d been abandoned. With the intention of seeking out Sparrow as soon as possible, she went about dressing for the day.
Her capcases were neatly lined up against the wall and she lit a taper so that she could see more clearly. The lavish room became evident to her in the weak light of the candle and she went to the three lancet windows that faced the river and peeled back the drapery. They were made from fine damask, slightly oiled even though the windows had glass in them. There was enough moisture from the river that condensed on the glass that the oiled drapes were a necessity.
With the drapes pulled back, the early morning light filled the room. The walls were wood paneled and one wall had a tapestry that seemed to depict a military victory of some kind. Gisella, with something of a trained eye for art thanks to Lady Gloucester, studied it with interest, seeing the fine detail work, before returning to her capcases.
She had fallen asleep fully clothed and her blue surcoat was wrinkled and mussed, so she rummaged about in the two bigger capcases until she found a fresh woolen shift, the color of eggshell, and a yellow damask surcoat with beautiful embroidery around the neckline and on the belled sleeves. She also pulled forth lemon-scented soap, scented oil, and hair combs.
Setting everything carefully on the bed, she timidly entered the smaller dressing room that adjoined the chamber and noted the contents of the room. A bigger wardrobe was against the far wall while a smaller cabinet-like table with a big porcelain basin and matching pitcher on top of it was positioned closer the door.The big iron tub, lined with linen, had been drained but some water lingered in the bottom of it. Moving to the larger cabinet, she opened to find neat stacks of towels inside, made from linen. There were also razors and other bathing implements.
Pulling forth a linen towel, Gisella went to the basin and noted that the pitcher was about half-full of water that smelled of lavender. Pouring it into the basin, she went back into the bedchamber, grabbed her soap, and returned to the dressing room. She proceeded to strip off her shift and surcoat, washing with her lemon soap in the very cold lavender water. She washed her face, hands, and body, and by the time she was done toweling off, her teeth were chattering.
Racing back into the bedchamber, she hurriedly put on her soft linen shift and yellow surcoat. But she needed help with fastening the surcoat so she opened the door to the darkened corridor and summoned a male servant, who in turn went for a female servant.
As she waited for someone to help her fasten the surcoat, she sat at the great dressing table and combed her long hair, now wavy because of the braid she had slept in. Her hair was very dark, like both of her parents, and she could see glistening red highlights that reflected the light. Braiding it again, she wounded the braid at the base of her neck and secured it with three big iron hairpins from her capcase and a pretty butterfly comb. She was just finishing with a slick of rouge-tinted lip balm over her chapped lips when the chamber door pushed open.
Bastian appeared in the dim light, his gaze immediately finding Gisella as she sat before the big dressing table that had once belonged to his mother. This had been her chamber, after all, a room long bereft of feminine finery until this morning. When their gazes met, he smiled timidly.
“Good morn to you, my lady,” he said softly in his deep, husky voice. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Gisella’s heart leapt at the sight of him and she smiled in return, setting the lip balm down to the table. It was enough to just stare at him a moment, reminding herself that they were now married. It still seemed odd and impossible, but wholly pleasant.
“Very well, thank you,” she replied. Then, she sobered somewhat. “This is probably a silly question, but how long did I sleep?”
“Three weeks.”
Her eyes bugged with shock. “I didwhat?”
Bastian chuckled. “A jest,” he said. “You slept all day and all night. It is now early morning, exactly one day after we arrived. You were clearly exhausted so I told everyone not to wake you.”
She grinned with relief, with his little joke, thinking the man had a fairly ready sense of humor. She had seen it yesterday. It also served to dispel some of the concern she had about his good behavior only being for his family’s sake. Already, he was smiling and jesting with her. He was acting as if he was actually glad to see her. It made her heart swell enormously.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” she said. “I am sorry to have thrown you out of your bed.”
He shook his head. “You did not,” he said. “I slept next to you. Did you not hear the snoring?”
Gisella shook her head, rather shocked and giddy to think that he had actually slept next to her and she hadn’t even noticed him. He was her husband, after all, but the thought of the man next to her in the same bed made her feel a little lightheaded.
“I did not hear anything at all,” she admitted. Then, she glanced up to the ceiling, to the chamber overhead. “Is… is Lady Sparrow well? I fear she will think that I have abandoned her.”
