Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (11 page)

“You weren’t this modest last night,” he said through his grin.

“It must have been the wine.” She felt her whole body blush. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I wish I had time to join you, but I must see to my ships. We sail tomorrow.”

Now was the time to clarify if she heard him correctly last night. “I would have a word with you, Your Grace.” Lia glanced at her robe which hung over the screen.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“I would like to get out of the water first. Can you hand me my robe, please?” She reached with one hand while still trying to cover herself.

He took the garment and held it out for her. Lia snatched it and he returned to his resting position on top of the screen, watching her.

The Englishman didn’t make a move to leave, so she said, “Please?”

“Did you need help with that?” He moved to come around the screen.

“No!”

The Englishman stopped and arched a brow as his lips broke into a wicked grin. What was he laughing at? She would question him, except she didn’t want to offend him because she still needed his help. She continued in a softer tone. “No, thank you. Turn your back please?”

He complied, although Lia sensed his reluctance. She stood and quickly wrapped her hair in the towel, and the robe about her body. Once it was belted, she walked around the screen. She stared down at her bare feet, so as not to lose her composure. “I told you last night that I had a matter of grave importance that I must attend to before we leave for your country.”

“You did.”

Her eyes met his, a seed of hope taking root in her heart. “Was I dreaming last night,” Lia said softly, her voice quivering, “or did you really say you would help me?”

She saw his eyes darken with desire. “Yes. I believe we came to an agreement.”

Her eyes welled with tears. Her brother and Maura’s safety were finally within reach. Her tears never fell for she wiped them away with the backs of her hands. “I promise you, Your Grace, I am not one given to tears. In truth, before my parents died I cannot remember how long it had been since I cried.” She wrung her hands in the folds of the robe, pulling it tighter around her.

“Given the circumstances, tears are understandable.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. For everything.”

“Ren,” he stated.

“What?”

“My name is Ren. I find I enjoy hearing you say it. And your thanks is premature. I haven’t done anything yet.”

“
Mi dispiace
,” she began nervously. “I forgot. It’s just that it is so unconventional, and goes against everything I have been taught.”

“As of last night, you are now my betrothed, so using my Christian name in private is acceptable.” He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and watched her dry her hair with a towel. The way she moved fascinated and aroused him. “You’ll soon learn that I am not the least bit conventional, Lia.”

The delicate Egyptian cotton robe she’d wrapped around her was now wet and virtually transparent. Ren didn’t know what was more stimulating, watching her in the tub a moment ago, with the water sluicing over bare skin, or watching her stand in a damp robe that displayed the dark, hardened peaks of her nipples, and the shadows of her woman’s curves to perfection.

“Conventionality was never a trait I possessed much of, either,” she said.

She walked to the dressing table to get the comb, and he could just make out the shadow between the cheeks of her derrière. He had to get out of here before he tossed her onto the bed and took much needed relief on her—after first tasting that curving slope of her back, the bare expanse of neck, and that spot behind the sweet lobes of her ears that make her laugh.

This woman was a natural seductress. Little things, simply her mannerisms and her accent stirred him. He’d had mistresses before, and couldn’t remember ever having this reaction to them. This woman was different. An innocent, she was unaware of her effect on him.

He should never have come in here. Seeing her this way made him ache with want of her body, and he didn’t have time to satisfy the need. His cousins, Cully and Flynn, Captains of the other two ships sailing with his, waited for him outside. “Can you be ready to leave in the morning?”

“I can be ready in three minutes if you asked.”

He looked at her curiously. “Don’t you have to pack?”

“Oh, none of this is mine.” She waved at the clothing cabinet and the toiletries on the dresser. “Everything, even this comb,” she held it up, “I borrowed from Maysun.”

Adding more to his mental list of things to do today, he nodded and turned to leave the room. Where was he going to find proper women’s clothing here? He’d have to ask Hakim.

A
fter a visit with Maysun to return the pearls and say goodbye to her friend, Lia returned to Ren’s suite wanting nothing more than a nap. She closed the door to the room she shared with Ren and crossed to the low bed, where she noticed five complete sets of clothing in the Muslim style and two pairs of the softest kid slippers she’d ever felt. Next to them lay a comb, brush, looking glass, and hair ornaments. There were other niceties too, such as scented bath oils and soaps, and a fine, soft cotton robe.

She knelt down next to the bed, stroking the fine silk kaftans, tunics, and pantalettes, wondering why this man was being so kind to her. What did he expect of her to treat her this way? Well, aside from a marital vow of obedience, and an heir as soon as possible.

While in the whoremaster’s compound, she was told repeatedly not to expect kindness, that affection was reserved for a select few in a man’s life, and if you were so fortunate as to receive it, be thankful. That sentiment almost mirrored what she saw in the world too, though her parents were the exception. She knew many women who’d married young and had miserable lives with indifferent and uncaring husbands who’s only need for them was to beget children. Their respect and affection were given to their mothers and grandmothers.

Lia spied a small open and empty leather covered traveling chest on the other side of the bed. She assumed it had been left for her, and as she packed her new things into it, she thought of her little brother. She would soon have him back with her, where he belonged.

If last night was any indication, life with Ren would not be so bad. He seemed pleasant enough. As his wife she would likely be afforded some freedoms and a secure status in society. While she’d hoped for love, she would certainly accept a loveless marriage to have her brother and Maura back. Yes, her situation had definitely turned out better than that of most women.

She must remember to show her gratitude. The only way to do that was to be the eager lover a man desires of his wife.

There was also the matter of the son he wanted her to bear. Her son. She had agreed, and would live up to her word, to bear his child. Of course, last night she would have agreed to anything for his promise to help her. If she’d learned anything from the women within the compound, it was to be agreeable and obedient. They were the ones who stayed out of trouble and lived to see another day.

She smiled to herself. Last night she discovered being an enthusiastic lover was also very helpful. Then again, it helped when her lover was as eager to please her as she was to please him.

When she was finished packing her new belongings, Lia went into the garden and sat on the wooden bench, feeling the cool evening breeze, filled with the scent of jasmine, jacaranda, roses, and lilies brushing her cheeks. She started to relax, reassured in her conclusion that she was doing the right thing.

R
en stepped silently into the private garden, loathe to disturb Lia as she reclined on the bench. Her head lay on the armrest, the curled ends of her deep brown hair trailing the tiled paving. He could tell from the slow rise and fall of her breasts pushing against the thin silk of her white kaftan that she rested peacefully. The graceful column of her throat was exposed, inviting his touch. Her legs stretched out before her on the seat, her delicate bare feet hanging over the armrest opposite her head. She made a quite fetching portrait, one that would entice even a monk into thinking sinful thoughts.

And this vision was his.

He cleared his throat. Lia sat up and turned to him, surprise evident in those emerald eyes of hers.

“I have ordered dinner to be brought to our rooms tonight. A bath is also coming.”

“As you wish, Your... Ren.”

He smiled, pleased that she remembered his request and corrected herself. “Were you sleeping?”

“Not really.” She moved to sit, making room for him. “Just relaxing. It’s the first time I have been able to since....” She broke off and took a deep breath. “In over eight months.”

He took the seat next to her, and gazed over the top of the garden wall at the pinkish gray sky of early evening. She stared ahead at the same water-color-perfect sky as he, and heard the same religious call to prayer for Muslims.

When the chanting call ended, she spoke. “We haven’t discussed what is to become of Luchino and Maura. Maura was originally our family’s housekeeper, and after I was born she became my nurse, then my brother’s as well. There was never a time she was not with our family.” Lia turned to look at him, deep concern in her expression. “I know as your wife I am your property, but I ask that you not make a servant of an old woman. I wish to keep her with me as my only remaining family.

“And, I have hopes and dreams for Luchino. I will educate him as my parents did me, and when he is old enough I will send him to university, which is what my father would have wanted. He will grow up to be a fine gentleman one day, I know it.”

“I will not make a servant of your nurse, Lia,” he replied. “And your brother will be expected to become a gentleman.”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, hands together as if in prayer. “
Grazie. Dal profundo del mio cuore, vi ringrazio,
” she whispered, thanking him from the bottom of her heart. She looked up at him again. “I will pay for everything he needs, food, clothing, books. For Maura too, of course. She is old now, and doesn’t move as quickly as she used to, but I love her as most would their grandmother.”

Ren watched as she nervously rubbed her lap with the palms of her hands. This was difficult for her, and he wasn’t going to force her to continue if it would upset her further. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

She stopped him. “I need to warn you.” She glanced over at him, and stood going into the room to get a goblet and some wine. Taking a seat next him again, she said, “Claudina is my father’s brother’s wife. She is a most despicable woman—greedy and power hungry. If she doesn’t try to sell my brother and Maura to you, she’ll try to marry you off to her daughter, Julianna, if she even suspects you have any wealth.”

Ren laughed, but her eyes widened suddenly in fright.

“Please be careful around her. Promise me.”

He assured her, “I will.” Without saying so to Lia, he knew that some old woman could never best him.

A male servant came to the doorway of the courtyard to announce that the bath had been prepared, and their dinner tray was in the room.

“Shall I stay and attend you in your bath, Your Grace?” the servant asked.

“No, the lady will attend me.” He met her green-eyed gaze, and nodded, letting her know that it was what he wanted.

“As you wish.” The servant bowed and left.

Ren stood, and holding out a hand to Lia, he led her into the room.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

T
o allow him privacy as he undressed, Lia busied herself by testing the water to make sure it was warm enough. She then placed a towel over the privacy screen and the bar of soap on the floor next to the tub. When he joined her behind the screen, she forced herself to keep her eyes downcast, unsure of how he would react to her direct gaze, when what she really wanted was to admire his naked beauty.

With his back to her, he lowered his massive frame into the brass tub, and she got a glimpse of his naked bottom as he sank into the warm water. His skin was tanned golden from the sun, down to the point of his breeches, below which his skin was whiter than hers. Surely he must work on that ship without a shirt, like a common laborer, to be tanned so evenly, she thought. The muscles of his shoulders visibly relaxed as he lay his head back against the curved headrest of the brass hip bath. His entire body could not fit into the tub, so a great long portion of his legs rose above the water. Water spilled over onto the tile and she immediately reached for one of the towels, laying it on the floor so he wouldn’t slip when he came out.

“The tub seemed large enough for two when I bathed earlier.” She dampened the washcloth. Picking up the bar of soap, she nervously worked a lather onto the cloth and began scrubbing his back. Lia had never tended a man in his bath before, and to have this one as her first had her on edge. She had to control her racing heart and shaky hands. His was the finest specimen of male to ever catch her eye. And she’d seen most all of the great statues in her travels with her parents.