“Should I … leave your … gown on?” he wondered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Weary, Lily leaned against him. “It will get wet,” she answered in a weak voice. “Just … take it off,” she said. Tears welled in her eyes, as if she had lost all her strength and any sense of modesty.
“Shh,” Billy whispered, holding her up as he undid the ties and pulled the chemise from her body. “I’m not looking,” he said as he reached down to capture the back of her knees with one arm before lifting her to the tub. Then he carefully lowered her, trying to avert his eyes and finding he simply could not. She was beautiful in the lamplight, her skin milky white, her honey gold and brown hair glinting. With most of her body submersed in the water, he concentrated on her face. “Is it permissible for me to ..?” He glanced around and found the ball of soap on top of the flannels. Lifting it in front of her, he continued, “Wash you?”
Tears still streamed down Lily’s face as she glanced away and nodded. Billy reached over and kissed her forehead, recognizing her blush for what it was. “It will all be fine, Lily. We’ll be back at Gisborn Hall tomorrow,” he promised, dipping a flannel into the water before smoothing it and the soap over one of her arms. He gently followed it with a flannel full of water, rinsing her arm as he lifted it from the water. He did the shoulder closest to him before moving to the end of the tub to do her back. “Lean forward,” he whispered. She did so, wrapping her arms around her legs, resting her cheek on her knees. An occasional sob wracked her body as he smoothed the soap over her smooth skin, gently rubbing the slick suds with his palms before rinsing away the bubbles.
He had moved to the other arm when a small knock sounded at the door. Before either he or Lily could react, the earl peeked in. Suddenly aware he was all alone in a room with Lily Parker, with Lily Parker naked, Billy swallowed.
At least Lily’s back was to the earl.
Henry regarded his groom with a arched eyebrow, wondering for just a split second if the boy had witnessed the bath he had taken with the countess only a few nights ago. “Is she … well?” he wondered in a whisper. He wanted to ask far more, like how the hell Billy had managed to get the girl completely undressed and into a tub without her being comatose, but he bit his tongue.
Billy glanced at Lily’s face, realized she was dozing. “She will be, once she has something to eat, my lord,” he whispered.
The earl nodded, suddenly feeling bereft at not being able to share a bed with Hannah that night. He had thought of her far more than he expected to on this trip. Christ, he had only known her a week and she was already consuming his thoughts! Which, he supposed, was why he understood perfectly well what Billy was going through, thinking the girl he loved was lost to him.
“Did you intend to … stay with her tonight?” Henry wondered, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I can arrange for another room for you.” He was confident Lily was still left with her virtue, no thanks to Thomas Babcock, but he would require the boy to marry his wife’s maid if they shared a room. He thought perhaps Billy knew damned well he would be expected to offer for Lily.
“That won’t be necessary,” Billy replied with a shake of his head. “I’ll sleep in a chair. I … I don’t want to let her out of my sight, my lord. And I have every intention of making her my wife when I can afford to do so.”
His eyes widening at this proclamation, Henry gave Billy a look of admiration. “I don’t suppose Lily has any say in the matter,” he teased as he slid Lily’s valise through the opening. His arms crossed as he continued to peer through the crack in the door.
Billy didn’t reply, but gave the earl a shake of his head.
“Ask Lily if she still has her ten-pound note,” Henry demanded, his manner again serious. He was worried that Babcock might have stolen it, or gambled it away their first night on the road.
Cocking his head to one side, astounded to hear the maid would have that kind of blunt, Billy regarded his future bride.
Lily lifted her head from her knees and whispered, “It’s … safe.”
Billy turned his attention back to the earl, nodding.
“That’s a relief,” Henry breathed. Pushing himself away from the door jamb, he added, “Don’t dawdle. Mrs. Fisher is bringing dinner up to the parlor in a few minutes.” Then he pulled the door shut.
Smiling at the earl’s comment, Billy continued washing Lily, his strokes gentle, especially when he moved to lay her back against the tub so he could wash her hair. With her eyes closed and her breathing slow, Billy realized she had fallen asleep. When he had finished rinsing her hair, he moved to her front. Awakening slowly, Lily stilled herself, stunned to find the groom’s soapy hands smoothing over and around her breasts, down her front, around her ribs, and to the fronts of her thighs. And just as carefully, he used the flannel to rinse the areas that peaked above the water. Then he moved to her legs, his ministrations slow and deliberate, so careful and reverent, she wept. He ended with her feet, rubbing the soles where her shoes had worn through. Standing up, he reached for a linen and unfurled it. “Give me your hand,” he whispered, holding two corners of the linen so that it hung down in a curtain in front of him.
Lily looked up and glanced back down at the water. She reached up and felt his hand grasp hers. She held the other across her breasts, realizing almost at once that it was far too late to be modest. Not only had Billy seen her entire body unclothed, he had touched almost every inch of her with his soapy hands!
Once she was standing, Billy wrapped the linen around her body and then lifted her from the tub the same way he had put her in there, eliciting a squeak of surprise from Lily. He put her down on the bed and hurried to get her another flannel from the pile. Wrapping it about her hair, he found her gazing at him with tear-filled eyes. “It’s all right, Lily,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead before retrieving her valise from where the earl had left it. “I can help you dress if you’d like,” he offered.
“I can do it, Billy,” she murmured, nodding as she made the claim. Suddenly spurred into action, she opened her valise and began removing several items. When Billy didn’t make a move to at least turn around, she cocked an eyebrow at him. “I dress myself every day,” she hinted, holding her finger out and spinning it around to indicate he should turn around and give her some privacy.
“Oh!” he acknowledged as he turned away from her. “You know, though, that when we’re married, I’ll be more than happy to help you with your buttons and laces and … fastenings,” he offered lamely. When Lily didn’t reply right away, he went on, “I think the earl would allow us larger quarters in the main house, now that I’m a groom,” he added, a hint of pride coloring his voice when he mentioned his promotion. When she still hadn’t said anything after another long pause, he sighed. “Of course, I realize you haven’t yet agreed to marry me.”
Lily’s arms were suddenly around his waist, her front pressed against his back as she laid a cheek against his shoulder. “Nor will I, until you ask me properly, you bounder,” she whispered.
Billy stiffened, wondering if she was still wrapped in flannel or if she was naked or … He turned around in her arms, a bit relieved and perhaps a bit disappointed to find her fully clothed. “I will, Lily, just as soon as I have a right proper ring and your father’s permission,” he promised, holding her body hard against his own.
“Billy,” Lily murmured after a moment.
“Aye?” he responded, pulling away from her so he could look at her face.
“You need a bath. Now,” she said, pointing at the tub. And before he could protest, she was undoing his buttons and pulling his clothes from his body.
It was midday, under gray leaden skies, when Henry rode up to Gisborn Hall. Somewhere farther back on the road, Billy and Lily were riding in a gig pulled by a single draft horse. Hannah caught sight of Henry from the second-story window of a guest room overlooking the road that led from the village. She had been watching from the window since ten that m
orning, knowing it might be another day or more before she would witness the arrival of her husband from his rescue mission. And seeing Lily riding, arm in arm with the young groom, she realized it had been more than just a successful rescue. After what she had learned from Mrs. Chambers regarding Thomas Babcock and what he had done to the Coley girl last year, Hannah was beside herself with worry. Seeing the young groom and her maid looking happy to be in one another’s company, she could only hope they might have a future together. A future at Gisborn Hall.
Hurrying down the stairs and out the front doors, she ran until Thunder cleared the main gates and was taking his rider toward the stables. On seeing Hannah, though, Henry reined in his mount and halted before her. Jumping down, he captured her in his arms and spun her around until she giggled in delight. Harold was suddenly at his feet, his tail wagging so hard it created a slight breeze against their legs.
“I’ve been so worried,” Hannah breathed, not releasing her grip on her husband.
Henry stared down at her, his smile faltering. “Lily is fine,” he assured her.
“I know. I saw from the upstairs window. But I was still worried about … you,” she managed to get out, her face taking on the pink blush. “Did you take a room at least?” she wondered. “Have dinner at a decent inn?”
Closing his eyes for a moment, Henry nodded. “Yes, of course,” he replied, giving her a reassuring hug. “Even had a bath, although you wouldn’t know it now,” he said with a grin.
“I don’t care,” Hannah replied with as shake of her head. “Just so you’re back.” They walked in silence up to the house, Henry leading Thunder until a stable hand came out to retrieve the horse. Before they could go inside, the curricle came through the gates. Hannah smiled as she watched Lily tentatively wave in her direction. She waved back. “Mrs. Chambers is baking biscuits for the laborers. I’ll take them out at four o’clock. Would you like to join me when I go to check on their progress?” she wondered. “It’s a wonderful ride. I was out there just after nine this morning, and they had completed nearly twenty feet of the trench just this morning.” She paused a moment and added, “When I asked if Mr. Coley had any concerns or questions to bring to your attention, he said he did not.”
Henry stared down at her. “What did you say about biscuits?” he wondered, his brow furrowing.
Taken aback by the question, Hannah sobered. “I’m having Mrs. Chambers bake biscuits for this afternoon’s four o’clock break,” she repeated as she entered the house. “Well, it’s not really a break, since all they do is grab a biscuit from the basket and eat it whilst they continue to shovel dirt, but it really seems to lift their spirits, and they seem to work just a bit harder afterwards.”
Parkerhouse was removing Henry’s coat from his shoulders as Henry considered his wife’s words. “And you know this … how do you know this?” he wondered, his manner far too serious. He had been gone for just over a day and a half and his wife was feeding his work crew biscuits? He thought of some of the men who had been hired for the job, thought of them ogling his wife as she brought them biscuits.
When he first rode through the gates and saw Hannah running to him, he thought he might take her to his bedchamber and have his way with her, but, suddenly, he thought he should get back on his horse and find Mr. Coley. Hadn’t the man said anything to stop her? Biscuits?
“Well, because I did it yesterday,” Hannah replied, her manner suddenly a bit tentative. “Mr. Coley doesn’t give the men very much time to eat luncheon, and they don’t stop for tea, since there is no tea, and, well, it just seemed the right thing to do …”
“My lady, they’re a work crew,” Henry countered, annoyance in his voice. He was tired, he was sore, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was a problem on the west irrigation project. “They don’t stop for tea and biscuits!” he nearly yelled, his voice sounding far too harsh. Taking a breath, Henry held it for a moment, raked his fingers through his hair and eyed the ceiling above them. He hadn’t meant to chastise her quite so harshly, but the tears limning Hannah’s eyes made it apparent he had. Dipping his head, he shook it. “I’m sorry. I …”
“It’s … all right. I thought … I just thought that when you asked me to take the instructions to your foreman, that you also wanted me to check on their progress and … I did,” she said, one slippered foot stomping as tears poured down her cheeks.
Tears! Damn! Not knowing what else to do, Henry lifted her chin with a finger and kissed her lips. It wasn’t a long kiss, not even a passionate kiss. Just a simple kiss in an attempt to make things … better. “Thank you,” he said in a whisper. He kissed her again.
“You’re welcome.” She sniffled, and he pulled out a handkerchief. “Thank you,” she murmured as she took it and wiped her tears.
“Do you know how much they ..?”
“Two-hundred and ninety feet yesterday,” she managed to get out between sniffles. She sniffled again, suddenly realizing she had no idea if that was good progress or not.
Henry stared down at her. “The entire width?”
She nodded. “And a bit wider at the river.”
“And today?”
“They had another twenty done when I was there at nine this morning.” She dared a glance up at him, wondering if he was pleased or displeased. The stunned look on his face didn’t indicate one way or the other, but she could have sworn he said something about the east side taking a week to complete. The west side would be done much sooner than that.
Henry blinked. Blinked again. And then he kissed her, hard, and cupped her face with both his hands. “Damn!” he got out as he pulled away from her.
Hannah shook her head, still not certain if he was pleased or not. “Is that … bad?” she wondered in a weak voice.
His arms were suddenly around her shoulders, pulling her body hard against his. She let out a squeak of surprise before she felt a burble of laughter erupt from him. Then he was lifting her into his arms and taking her up the steps, his face a study in delight. “My lady, we’re going to need more biscuits,” he announced as he flung open her bedchamber door and tossed her onto the bed.
After bouncing a couple of times, her skirts flying up so her stocking-clad legs were on display, Hannah stared back at her husband. She gave him a tentative smile. “So, you’re not … angry with me?” she whispered.
Henry settled himself on the bed next to her, his head shaking from side to side. “No, my lady,” he murmured. “Just mad for you.” And then his lips captured hers in a series of kisses that did not end until almost four o’clock.
As he did the fastenings of Hannah’s riding habit, Henry allowed his mind to wander. I should go see Sarah. I should pay a visit to Nathan. I need to check on the status of the greenhouses. But, at that moment, exhausted by his travels and yet somehow invigorated by the afternoon tryst, he decided it could all wait until after he checked on the work crew.
Henry had allowed Murphy to dress him but thought Hannah should wait until later in the evening before asking for Lily to see to her, perhaps to dress her and do her hair for dinner. He had given leave to Billy to see to Lily’s resettling; he knew she was quite embarrassed over the entire ordeal with Thomas Babcock. They hadn’t discussed anything over dinner at the inn. Despite having had a bath, Lily still looked lost and out of sorts. It wasn’t until that morning, when he had mentioned Babcock wasn’t welcome on his lands that Lily realized the rake was still alive.
“He’s not dead?” she wondered as she held a piece of dry toast, regarding it as if it might make her sick if she ate it. “I was sure …”
“Were you the one who gave him the shiner?” Henry asked then, remembering how the boy had looked when he had turned him over.
The flush of red that colored Lily’s face gave him the answer he expected. He turned to Billy. “Don’t ever anger this girl,” he ordered with just a hint of humor. “She can break your nose, split your lip and leave you with a black eye.”
>
Smiling now as he remembered Billy’s openmouthed look of admiration and respect, Henry explained he would be riding back to Gisborn Hall, but that they would riding in a rented conveyance. Once they were there, a groom could return it to the inn and retrieve Billy’s horse. Although Billy had volunteered for the duty, Henry told him he couldn’t go— he was to see to Lily’s comfort and begin setting up their room in the main house. Now that ‘Bill O’Conlin’ was a groom, he would have to give up his room in the stables.
Billy had been so surprised by the earl’s proclamation, by the earl’s calling him ‘Bill’ instead of ‘Billy’, he could only thank the man and give Lily a shrug when he saw her look of surprise.
“Your maid will be getting married soon,” Henry spoke in a quiet voice as he nudged Hannah to turn around.
His wife’s eyes widened in surprise, a flash of worry touching her brow. “Are you requiring Mr. Babcock to ..?”
“God, no,” Henry interrupted her. “She will marry Billy O’Conlin. They’ll have a room together here in the servants hall in the main house,” he explained, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs.
“But, he’s … he’s so young!”
“He and Lily are the same age. And given what happened on this trip, well, I figure it best the two are settled together.” They took the hall to the kitchen, Hannah leading, so she could retrieve the basket of biscuits, and Harold following at Henry’s feet.
She was looking back at him, her surprise still evident. “Did he … ruin her?” she whispered. Her eyes grew wider. “Or did the Babcock boy?” She stopped in her tracks, forcing Henry to stop short and Harold’s head to careen into the back of his knees. Henry nearly toppled backwards onto Harold, but Hannah reached out and grabbed onto his arm, helped him to regain his footing. She saw the flash of anger in Henry’s eyes even before his curse filled the tiny hallway.
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