His Contract Bride (25 page)

“
Will you think less of me if I do?” Her words barely more than an uneven whisper.

“
Why would you think that?” She tried to pull free, but he wouldn't let her. “Regina, why would I think less of you?”

“
Because I won't be—” she waved her hand through the air— “completely covered.”

“
You mean because you won't be wearing enough fabric to clothe the both of us while in my presence?”

She nodded.

“
No, Regina.” Still supporting her with his left arm, he reached his right arm around to her back and undid the first button on her gown. Then the second. The more he undid, the more she relaxed in his hold. “I thought I suggested you not wear stays,” he murmured against her ear when he'd released the last button and ran his hand along her back only to find another row of laces.

“
You said paniers. There's a difference.”

He loosed the top knot. “Which is?”

“
When you said paniers, I thought you meant one of my gowns that requires iron hoop stays. I didn't realize you meant I couldn't wear stays at all. Not that it'd matter. I don't have a single gown I could wear without stays.”

He tugged another knot loose. How fortunate he was to be born a man. When he'd freed the last knot, he separated the fabric, noting how the chemise she wore under her gown was wet like he'd thought it might be when he offered her his shirt.

Edward stepped behind her, placing one hand just inside each of her capped sleeves. Slowly, he began peeling her sodden gown from her clammy body. Nervous excitement, similar to how he'd felt on their wedding night, coursed through him. He'd never undressed a lady before. His lips longed to kiss the slope of her neck. His fingers wanted to touch her bare flesh and explore her everywhere.

He took a deep breath through his nose, but the scent of her hair so close only excited him more. He swallowed. He had to control himself. She'd come so far since those first few nights he'd visited her after she'd learned the truth. If he went too fast, he'd shatter all the trust he'd built between them.

His hands stilled. When had he come to care so much what someone else thought about him? Normally, he did or said whatever he wanted, heedless of anyone's opinion of him. Why was it different with Regina?

A shiver racked Regina's body, reminding him of his task. “Almost there.”

She shivered again.

He moved the top of her gown down past her waist and released his grip, letting it fall into a large pool at her feet. The glow of the fire in front of Regina illuminated her form under her damp chemise. Blood pounded in his ears.

Too excited at the sight of her to trust his voice not to betray him, he slipped away and went to the rope he'd hung to dry their clothes. He pulled his shirt down. Good, it was dry. He carried it to her.

“
If you'll step out of your gown, I'll go hang it up while you change into this.”

Trembling, whether from cold or nerves, he didn't know, Regina stepped out of the puddle of fabric that surrounded her feet and took the shirt from him.

Trying his damnedest not to peek at her again now that he could see the front of her, he swooped up her discarded clothes and took them over to the rope.

He'd just finished throwing her stays over the line when Regina came up to him and shoved her balled up chemise against his bare chest, walking off as soon as he touched the fabric.

He frowned. “Regina?” He turned in time to see her dashing toward the shelter as fast as her stockinged legs could carry her, the bottom of his shirt barely covering her bare derriere. He tossed her chemise over the rope and started after her. “Regina.”

“
Urp.” She misstepped and almost fell to the ground.

His hands landed on her shoulders to stay her. “Are you hurt?”

“
N—”

“
Remember, you're only allowed one falsehood per year. You wouldn't want to waste it on something so trivial, would you?”

She sighed. “It's my feet. They started to hurt when we were walking. So I took off my slippers while you were out chopping wood for the fire. But they hurt too much when I tried to put them back on, so I left them off. And now, I seem to have stepped on something sharp.”

“
A sticker, most likely.” He reached down and picked up the box he'd left out that held miscellaneous supplies, then handed it to her. “Hold this. I'll carry you.” As soon as her fingers closed around it, he lifted her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees.

Instead of protesting or turning as rigid as a statue at his touch as he'd feared she might, she wrapped her left arm around his neck and leaned her head against his chest as she'd done when they first married.

He carried her to a little spot of smooth, soft grass and set her down on the edge. He wasn't as close to the fire as he'd have liked to be in order to see what was wrong with her foot, but it'd have to do. The tails on the shirt she wore wouldn't be enough protection for her delicate areas were he to place her on a log.

“
Is it on the bottom?” he asked, slowly running the pads of his fingers along the bottom of her foot.

“
Yes, right there.”

He stopped, his fingernail catching on the edge of something hard. He moved his thumbnail to the other side and pulled. “As I suspected, it was a sticker.” He threw it behind her. “Any others?” he asked, placing his left hand on her ankle.

She gave a startled scream and kicked him with her heel. “Please, forgive me,” she gushed. “I didn't mean to kick you.”

“
Is something wrong with your ankle?”

“
The skin is just sensitive, I think. The slippers I wore today were not made for walking such distances.”

“
I'd wager you have quite a nasty blister under that stocking.” He repositioned them so both of her feet were resting in his lap. “What of the other?”

“
It hurts, too.”

“
Can I have my box, please?”

She handed it to him. “What do you need from in there?”

He flipped the lid on the box. “Salve.”

“
Salve? Why on earth do you have a jar of salve out here?”

Edward shook his head ruefully. “Have you learned nothing of my brother John during our marriage? On more than one occasion he hurt himself while trying to be devious and found himself in need.” He blindly rummaged around until he found the little jar of salve. “Though he was always finding himself in need of saving, he never had a problem saying anything when he was in pain.” He glanced over to her face. “I don't know why you feel the need to hide when you're in pain.” Actually, that wasn't true; he knew why she did it as well as she did: nobody had ever cared enough about her for her to feel important enough to say anything. He set the box down with a sigh. It wasn't his place to give her a lecture about such matters; as her husband, it was his place to
show
her she was important and make her believe it.

With a swallow, he ran his left hand up her calf, then past her knee to the top of her stocking. “I'll try to be gentle.” He slipped his thumb inside the edge of her stocking and slowly slid it down her leg until her foot was free of its confines. Then he reached over and removed her other stocking.

Edward placed her stockings beside him then picked up the jar of salve and uncorked it. The smell of the herbs from the ointment filled his nostrils. He dipped two fingers into the jar, coating his fingertips with the thick liquid. Careful not to touch her where it might hurt, he lifted her foot and began to rub the oil along her heel.

“
Edward?”

“
Yes?”

“
Why don't I ever hear you talk about astronomy?”

He finished with her first foot and reached for the second. “I don't know. I never took an interest in it, I suppose.”

“
So then you don't know which stars’ patterns these are?”

He glanced up to the sky. “I know some of the constellations, but not all. Do you like astronomy?”

“
I don't know. I don't know anything about it.”

“
Would you care to learn?” He finished with her second foot and put both of her feet down on the ground so he could lie next to her.

“
Do you have a telescope?”

He reached for her hand. “No, but I can buy one. I'll even have a little building set up for it, if you'd like.”

Was it his imagination or had she just inched closer to him? “I'm surprised you don't already have such a building.”

“
That's because I never really formed an interest in astronomy.” With his free hand, he plucked up a small patch of grass and then let it go. “My father was vastly fascinated by the mechanics of things such as clocks and automatons. He taught me the scientific formulas that most boys never care to learn. It was what we did together. After Mother died, he all but gave up on life. He didn't care to learn of the mechanics of things any longer.” He took a deep breath. “It was like I'd lost him, too.”

“
Perhaps that's the real reason you started mucking around in the conservatory. It wasn't to discover some herbal cure for Timothy, but to replace your father.”

He blew out a deep breath. How was it she had the ability to see in him what others couldn't? “You're right. That was exactly my reason. I wanted an interest of my own. Something I alone understood and didn't have to share with anyone else with the fear that they'd lose interest one day and destroy any enjoyment I'd had in the pursuit right along with the automatons I'd built.”

Regina's gasp was like a balm to his aching heart. “He didn't?”

“
He did.” He twisted his lips at the memory of his father smashing all the automatons Edward had worked so hard to build. “It was far worse at fourteen than it is now. Then, I didn't understand his frustrations hadn't anything to do with me. Now, I know the difference, which is why I still enjoy taking things apart and putting them back together, but not building my own.”

“
Ever?”

“
I wouldn't say never, just not yet. If the son we may one day have found them of interest, I'd teach him how; but, as of now, I haven't had the desire to tinker with them since then.”

“
Because you prefer your solo pursuits?”

He sighed. “Were he—or anyone else who might live around here—to take a fancy to any of my scientific pursuits, I'd gladly share my knowledge. You should know that.” At first, he might have invited her to join him in the conservatory because he felt compelled to entertain her on their wedding trip, but he'd grown fond of having her there. Had she been unwanted or a nuisance, he'd have found something else for her to do after that first day. But he hadn't; he'd enjoyed having her around. And though he'd rather not tell her such and make her feel as if she were nothing but a muse for him and his discoveries, he'd hardly given two thoughts to his flowers and experiments since she'd stopped joining him each day. Odd that.

The crackle of the fire and the quiet noise of the crickets chirping in the distance filled the air. Above them, more stars came out to join the moon in the sky, reminding him of his promise to her about learning more about astronomy together. An idea for the building he'd have to build to house the telescope came to mind. Tall and thin with an interior ladder she could climb to look through the telescope while he stood close behind her, his body pressing hers... Yes, he'd have to order one erected, post haste.

“
Edward?”

“
Yes, Regina?”

“
Thank you for my adventure.” Then, before he could form a response, she shocked him to the toes by brushing a sweet kiss on his cheek and then curled up beside him, her body pressed against his, her head lying on his chest that could hardly contain his wildly beating heart.

~Chapter Twenty-Six~

As the cloak of darkness evaporated, so did Regina's boldness. Perhaps it was the way he'd never once lost his temper with her during the day, or the way he'd carried her and gently rubbed salve on her blisters, or even all the personal things he'd revealed about himself. Or, most likely, it was a combination of all three. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. She'd just wanted to be close to him; to feel him and smell him; to hear his heart beating near her ear as she fell asleep.

But now that the sun had returned, so had her modesty.

“
I'll go get your clothes,” Edward offered. He gained his bare feet and walked to the rope he'd hung.

Shamelessly, Regina watched him. Until last night, she'd never seen him without a shirt. He'd always come to her room with his dressing robe over his nightshirt. When they'd first married, she’d tried to catch glimpses of his arms or shoulders as he'd shrugged out of his dressing robe before joining her in bed.