Page 34 of A Gentleman's Wife

Eliza appeared in the doorway, holding the little vial. “Are you all right, madam? I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help…”

“Don’t worry,” Marianne reassured her. “You know there’s not much you could have done. It’s just a cramp. It will pass.”

“Thank you, Eliza.” Thomas reached out to retrieve the bottle from her, then turned to Marianne with hesitation. “Will you allow me?”

Her heart skittered at his words, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. He’d already seen her hand once, gone so far as to kiss it even. But only Eliza had ever administered the ointment. Yet he so desperately wanted to help, and there was certainly no shame in having a husband touch one’s hand.

“Very well.” Marianne gave an affirming nod to Eliza, who bobbed a curtsy and left the room.

The tightness in her arm slowly melted away, but it still took a moment for her to be able to uncurl it, for the muscles to return to normal. When she was finally able to hold it out to him, he gently held her forearm and pulled on each finger of her glove, sliding the long white fabric from her grasp. He did not react at the sight, and that eased her fears.

Thomas unstopped the bottle and said, “It’s a lovely scent.”

“Yes, it helps a great deal that it doesn’t smell of fish carcasses.”

He laughed at her comment, and it helped her to relax.

“How shall I proceed?” he asked.

“Pour a few drops into your hand and rub your hands together. Then using your fingers, you’ll need to press against the muscles in my forearm, and gradually into my wrist and hand.”

Thomas did as she instructed, and Marianne knew enough about her muscles to continue breathing as he worked, but the moment his hands touched her skin, it became an impossibility. Where Eliza’s hands had always been slender and soft, Thomas’s hands were large and firm. He pressed into her skin with an unfamiliar strength but the same gentleness she knew to expect from him. The working of her tight muscles was difficult and caused her to inhale and gasp, and when he paused to look up to her face, she shook her head.

“It’s a required pain,” Marianne explained. “It won’t make much of a difference right away, but I will be grateful for it come nightfall.”

He nodded, returning to his work with careful attention. But he didn’t know that with every stroke of his thumb and each elongated touch, he had her completely mesmerized. The pressure of his fingers provided a momentary ache and relief before the tightness returned, but in its wake, he left a trail of longing across her skin, stirring the emotions she’d tried to hide deep within and bringing them rushing to the surface. His touch was intoxicating her, leaving her cheeks with a telltale heat and an unsteadiness in her breathing. Not to mention thoughts of setting the vial aside, leaning closer and satisfying her curiosities about the taste of his lips. But they were unexpected thoughts. Was she so desperate for the touch of a man that her self-control could be so easily conquered?

“I wonder if there’s truth to that for our lives, as well.” Thomas’s voice shook Marianne from her thoughts, his low tone catching her off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“You said working these muscles is a required pain, and you don’t see immediate results but are grateful for the efforts later on.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Perhaps the hardships we face or the remedies for them are not pleasant at first, but we may see the wisdom in our heartache sometime later and be able to have gratitude for them.”

Marianne struggled to breathe. His touch was soft now, most of the tension gone from her arm, so his movements served as only gentle caresses that sent her heart skipping and racing like a mad woman. And there was great wisdom in his words as they echoed in her mind. His dark eyes held her captivated for a long time, as if he wanted to say more, as if he wanted her to ask him something specific, though she couldn’t imagine what.

The day had already been too long, and now adding his physical touch to her already confused mind, she’d finally reached her limit.

Reluctantly, she took her arm from his grasp, and said, “Perhaps you are right. Only time will tell.”

When she stood from the bay window, Thomas offered her a steadying hand, but neither of them was prepared for the book that skittered to the ground at their feet.

“Oh, Shakespeare. I had forgotten all about him.”

Thomas leaned over to pick up the book. “I can return this if he’s no longer needed.”

“He’ll have his day another time. I think for now, I’ll go and dress for dinner.”

He eyed her carefully before nodding, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll be all right, Thomas. And thank you for your assistance.”

“It was my pleasure.” He smiled at her, then handed her the vial of salve, which she carried with her glove.

Making her way out of the library and up the stairs, Marianne didn’t know how to feel or what to think. She’d likely think a little clearer after a good night’s rest, but the day wasn’t over yet. She needed to change and get through dinner first.

Once in her bedchambers, Marianne sat on her bed with a sigh. Almost immediately, Eliza appeared and stood by her side, taking the salve and setting it on the bedside table.

“How are you now?” Eliza asked, standing before her with hands on her hips.

---