Shipwrecked With The Captain. Diane Gaston
Lucien. A bath will seem like heaven.’
She remembered how pleasant it was to lie in a warm bath, to rub soap against her skin and to feel clean again.
She just could not remember a time or place before this when she’d taken a bath.
The bath was in a room close to the kitchen, so the hauling of water would not be too onerous for the maids and the water would remain hot. Lucien allowed Lady Rebecca to go first and he went in search of Mr Molloy, mostly to distract himself from thinking of her naked in the tub, stroking her skin with soap.
‘Molloy,’ he said, finding him back in the public rooms. ‘I need your assistance. We have nothing. Where can I purchase necessities?’ He had some coins that had remained in his pockets, sufficient to buy what they needed.
‘You’ll be wanting Brady’s store.’ The innkeeper directed him to the place.
He purchased a razor and comb for himself, toothbrushes for them both, a hairbrush and hairpins for Rebecca. And ribbons.
Mrs Molloy made good her promise to find them clothes.
* * *
By the time the sun had set, the last vestiges of the sea were washed away and clean clothes replaced ones ruined by salt water.
‘It feels wonderful,’ Rebecca said. ‘I wonder if I have ever had a bath that felt as glorious or clothes that felt as good against my skin.’
He could agree. He was glad to be rid of his beard and the only clothes that would feel more right to him would be his uniform.
They returned to the public rooms to dine. The rooms were more crowded than before, with both men and women sharing food and drink, but the people were warm and welcoming. Their story of surviving the shipwreck had spread and they spent the meal answering questions about the event.
Lady Rebecca, so at ease among these simple villagers, surprised him at every turn. When had he known any aristocratic lady like her? Even his mother, who merely aspired to the aristocracy, looked down her nose at those she perceived as inferior. Of course, Lady Rebecca did not remember being of high birth. That must explain it.
They were treated to endless tankards of ale and the inn’s brew was particularly hoppy and refreshing. All the voices in the room grew louder as the night wore on, but Lucien could hear Rebecca’s laugh above the din.
A lovely sound, one he remembered from the packet. So she had been the lady with the captivating laugh. She swayed and caught herself by leaning against a table.
Lucien came to her side. ‘It is time to retire, my lady.’
She nodded with a grateful look and coloured with the hum of approval that followed in their wake.
‘I feel so unsteady,’ she said as they entered the hall and started up the stairs.
‘It is the ale.’ He kept a firm hold on her.
‘It was quite delicious ale, was it not?’ She reached for the banister. ‘I wonder if I liked ale before, because I quite like it now.’
‘I noticed, my lady.’
She stopped on the stairs. ‘It feels so odd for you to call me “my lady.”’
‘Because you do not remember,’ he said.
‘I do not like it.’ She leaned against him and tipped her head up to look him in the face. ‘It makes me different from everyone else.’
‘That is not so bad a thing,’ he reassured.
‘I suppose I am different.’ She kept staring into his eyes. ‘I have no memory.’
‘Even so, you have done well in every situation you’ve encountered,’ he told her.
‘Have I?’ She smiled and swayed closer to him, tantalisingly close.
He took a bracing breath and eased her away. ‘It is time you were abed.’
Her eyes widened and her lips parted.
God help him.
He clasped her arm. ‘Come.’
After a few steps, she leaned against him again, but he managed to walk her to her room without taking her in his arms and pressing his lips against hers.
He took her key and opened the door. ‘I’ll send Mrs Molloy to assist you.’
She put her arms around him and pulled him inside the room. ‘You could assist me, Lucien. Like before.’
His head dipped down and she reached up and brushed her lips against his.
God help him.
Before he lost all control, he gripped her upper arms and eased her away. ‘No.’
She put her hands to her temples. ‘Did I just kiss you? Forgive me, Lucien. I cannot imagine why I acted that way. I am not so scandalous, I would hope.’
‘You merely had too much ale.’ That did not explain his desire, though.
‘Perhaps I am scandalous.’ She sat on the bed. ‘Then it would do no harm for me to kiss you again, would it?’ She half-reclined on the bed, resting on her elbows.
Was she trifling with him now? He’d once been propositioned by a countess looking for a new plaything. He’d easily turned down that woman. It was proving more difficult to resist Lady Rebecca.
‘Perhaps you are virtuous,’ he countered, ‘and need to preserve your reputation.’
She sat up. ‘You are correct, of course.’ Her enticing hazel eyes looked up at him, shining like exotic jewels.
He turned and walked to the doorway. ‘I will send for Mrs Molloy.’
‘Goodnight, Lucien.’ Her voice was low and soft, stirring him even more.
He managed only a nod before closing the door. He needed a barrier between them this night.
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