The Christmas Visit: Comfort and JoyLove at First StepA Christmas Secret

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The Christmas Visit: Comfort and JoyLove at First StepA Christmas Secret Page 10

by Moore, Margaret


  Lord Orrick’s friend stood and nodded at him and took leave of Lady Margaret, as well. He was tall, taller than the lord, who stood at least four inches past six feet. It must be his Scots blood, for she had heard he was from the barbaric Highlands where the men were giants and known for their fierceness. In her thoughts she could see him swinging a massive sword in battle against his enemies. She shivered again, thankful that other than a glance in her direction, she would have nothing else to do with him.

  When her jug of ale was empty, Elizabeth returned to the pantry to fill it again. Rounding the wooden partition that separated it from the rest of the hall, she found herself face-to-face with the man who had just filled her thoughts. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes at this closeness. His eyes, as dark a blue as she had ever seen, met hers and her mouth went dry.

  She could not turn her eyes away as he smiled at her. The rugged angles of his face, the life-roughened expression in his eyes and his overwhelming size took her breath away. The jug tumbled from her grasp and landed with a thud on the floor at her feet. The steward’s voice pierced her confused state as she stood staring into the Scot’s icy-blue eyes.

  “Lord Orrick wishes you to tend to his guest now, Elizabeth. Someone else will serve the ale.”

  Blinking, she looked at the steward and waited for his words to make sense. Before she could react, the man stepped back, leaned down and picked up the empty jug from the floor. Holding it out to the steward, he never moved his gaze from hers. Heat built within her and her stomach began to tighten.

  “My thanks, Lord Gavin. Your bath will be ready in your chambers anon. Elizabeth? See to it now.”

  The orders of the steward broke her reverie. Lowering her head, she curtsied to the steward and to Lord Gavin.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  She turned to go to the kitchens to arrange for the hot water needed for a bath. He would need the largest of their wooden tubs if there was any chance of him fitting those legs in it. Focusing her thoughts on the items needed kept her from thinking about what else this summons meant, what came after the bathing was done. When he was clean and relaxed from the heat of the water. When he was still naked.

  She shuddered, part in fear and part in anticipation of what the night would hold for her. There was something different about this man and this service. Elizabeth feared not what would happen in the joining of their bodies, but what he might do to the heart she kept hidden so well. And she did not know why he felt like such a threat to her.

  Chapter Two

  She tested the steaming water with her elbow and nodded, pleased that it was hot enough but not too. Looking over the small bottles and jars on the tray, she chose several and added an amount of each to the water. Fresh and soothing scents filled the chamber as the oils mixed with the steaming water. Stirring them with her hand, she nodded again. The bath was ready, but where was Lord Gavin?

  As if his name in her thoughts had conjured him from nothing, the door opened and he stood just within the frame. Silhouetted by the torches in the corridor, she could see nothing but the outline of his form.

  “’Tis ready, my lord.” She walked to the door as he stepped into the room. Trying to keep in as much heat as possible, she closed the door behind him. Beads of sweat, from both her exertions and from the heat, trickled down her neck and back. Using the back of her hand, she wiped it from her brow.

  The man stood before the large tub and just stared at it. Was there a problem? What did he need?

  “My lord?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “Did you pick out the scent yourself?”

  “Aye, my lord. The oils are from Lady Margaret and will soothe the roughness and dryness of your skin. If they are not pleasing to you, I could change them.”

  It would take four servants each carrying two large buckets of heated water to refill the tub, but it could be, would be, done if he so wished.

  “I should have waited for you before adding them, my lord. I beg your pardon.” She leaned her head down respectfully, awaiting his decision. In truth, she chose the scented oils that reminded her of the coming festivities—pine, holly berry, and Lady Margaret’s precious balsam.

  “I asked because ’twas an appealing combination, not because it displeased me.”

  Turning away, she busied herself organizing what she would need for his bath. Cloths, jars of soap, extra buckets of water, drying linens. She laid them out near the tub so she could reach them easily as she needed them. All in an effort to avoid watching him undress. When she could wait no longer, she looked across the room to where he remained…fully dressed and watching her every move.

  “The water is cooling, my lord,” She said as she held out her hand over the bath. “Do you need help with…your…?” She did not finish the words, but simply pointed to him.

  “I am not such a bairn that I need help getting undressed,” he answered in a voice so deep and smooth that it reminded her of warm honey, fresh from the hive on a summer’s day.

  “No, my lord. I did not mean that.”

  He seemed bothered by something. Was she not brazen enough toward him? Was he waiting for her to take charge of this? After all, everyone knew that a male guest asking for “a bath” was simply another way to speak of their desire to tup. Elizabeth stepped closer and reached for the ties on his tunic.

  “Nay, lass,” he said, stepping back. “I can take off my own clothing.”

  His words were not harsh, but she felt the rebuke. Mayhap she had misread the situation? She would not overstep her place again with him. Turning her back to him, she walked to the side of the tub and waited there. Busying herself by checking the water, she did not watch his movements. Elizabeth could see him out of the corner of her eye and when he turned his back to her, she took advantage of the chance to take a closer look at him.

  He was of the same age as Orrick, having just over two score of years, and his experience as a warrior showed on his body. The scars of old wounds covered parts of his back and even one thigh, but they did not detract from his physical beauty. His long, dark red hair was liberally sprinkled with gray and fell below his shoulders. Wide, brawny shoulders they were, as was his back. A narrow waist and hips led to strong, muscular legs. The perfect male body. She sighed, imagining what the front of him would look like. So deep in her thoughts was she that she did not notice him turn at the sound she made.

  Aye, he was impressive. And he was watching her as she watched him! Now, he stood before her, naked as the day his mother birthed him.

  Blinking quickly, Elizabeth turned her face to the tub and cleared her throat. How incredibly stupid to be attracted to such a man! He would bathe, take his pleasure on her and be gone from her life by the morn. Apparently the hard lessons of the past year of her life were not yet learned well enough.

  “Watch your step, my lord. The oils make the tub a bit slippery when you step into it.” She hoped that concentrating on the bath would lessen the tension she felt between them.

  Without a word, Lord Gavin walked to the tub, stepped into the heated water, turned around and sat down. As she had suspected, his long legs did not fit so he drew them up, his knees now exposed above the tub’s rim.

  Without delay, she lifted one of the jars, scooped out a generous handful of the soft soap and shared it between her hands. Pushing his hair off his back with her hand, she spread the soap over his shoulders, down his back and around again. Taking a cloth, she dipped it into the water and lathered the soap until the thick foam covered his back.

  Elizabeth moved to the side and lifted his arm to continue the washing. She noticed his eyes were closed, but she doubted that he was asleep. He allowed, even aided, her work as she moved around him, washing his limbs. He lifted one leg out of the tub and then the other as she spread the soap over him. It was as she began to scrub his chest and stomach that he stopped her with his larger hand over hers.

  “I can do the rest, lass. If you would move the bucket of rinse
water for me and leave it where I can reach it, you may go.”

  “My lord?” Elizabeth did not understand his dismissal. “Have I done something to displease you?”

  “Nay, lass. The bath has been pleasant and well-done. ’Tis all I need from you.”

  Elizabeth nodded, still surprised that he did not want bed-play as other men would. She knew she was not the best-looking of women, but she had washed her face and tidied herself before coming here tonight. Was there something wrong with her? Mayhap he did not frequent whores?

  She walked to the hearth in the chamber and moved one of the three buckets of clean water closer to the tub. The lord had dipped his head into the tub and was scrubbing his scalp as she moved the cloths and drying linens to where he could reach, always watching his movements in the tub. She also moved an empty bucket for rinsing his head nearer to him.

  “Lass? It looks like I do need your help. Would you pour that water over my head?”

  A nervous tension grew within her. Although his manner was straightforward, she felt as though he was toying with her. But, why?

  “Aye, my lord,” she answered as she lifted the bucket as high as she could.

  Lord Gavin leaned his head back over the side of the tub so that the water would flow into the empty bucket. Elizabeth poured the warm, clean water over him and he rubbed to remove the soap from his hair. As she put down the bucket, he twisted the length of his hair, releasing most of the water it held.

  Then he stood up.

  She was trapped between the tub and the bed and had nowhere to look or move as he stretched to his full height and stepped out of the tub. Beads of water sluiced down his body, over every muscle from neck to chest to thighs and down. She was unable to look away as he used one of the drying cloths to press more water from his hair and then he wiped his body once. Their eyes met and Elizabeth found that her breath and voice had left her.

  “What other tasks do you have this night, lass?”

  His voice made her toes curl and a pool of heat formed in her belly. This was startling. She had been tupped by many men since her arrival here and this mix of fear and anticipation surprised her. Why did he not simply take his pleasure and be done?

  “None, my lord, save you. Lord Orrick said I should tend to you only.” How she had forced the words out, she knew not.

  “The water is still warm and nigh to clean. Use it if you would like,” he said, pointing to the tub, completely comfortable in his nakedness.

  “A bath? Me?” The opportunity for a bath in a tub of warm water did not come often to her, and especially not in the dead of winter. Being second in would also be a treat. But she would need to undress here to take it.

  He laughed and the sound of it echoed through the chamber. Lord Gavin was a handsome man and when he smiled, an attractive set of dimples formed in his rugged cheeks giving him a much younger appearance. She watched as he nodded at her.

  “Aye, lass. For you, if you be wanting to enjoy it.”

  She worried her bottom lip as she thought on his offer. She was about to refuse when he laughed again.

  “I am to bed now, lass. If you would put out the candles when you leave?”

  Elizabeth nodded her head, still in disbelief, as he did just as he said. He tossed the cloths in a pile near the hearth and, after pulling several blankets off the rope-strung bed, he climbed in and made himself comfortable. He rearranged the pillows and then turned on his side facing away from her. Deciding that to pass up this chance was foolish, Elizabeth moved quietly to the side of the tub.

  “May I, my lord? Truly?” Part of her wanted to tear off her soiled garments and jump in. Another part urged caution with this man who was unknown to her.

  “’Twould be folly to waste good bathwater. ’Tis yours to use,” he answered without moving.

  “My thanks to you,” she whispered as she tugged at the laces on her gown. If she moved quickly, she could wash, dry herself and be dressed in a few minutes. If she was quiet, he would fall to sleep and never even know she was still here.

  She loosened her gown and pulled it over her head. Then her shift, stockings and shoes followed and she stepped into the tub and sat as soundlessly as she could. She could not, however, stop the sigh of pleasure that escaped as the heat soothed her tired body. The tub in which he barely fit gave her nearly enough room to lie back.

  After unraveling her braided hair and dipping beneath the water, she lathered and washed and rinsed as quickly and silently as she could. Only a few minutes had passed when she twisted the length of her hair to squeeze out the water and prepared to stand. Elizabeth did not know what made her look up, but there he stood with a bucket of the clean water held up to rinse her free of the soap and dirt from the now twice-used bathwater.

  And he was still naked.

  She swallowed several times trying to think of what to say and trying not to look at his body. ’Twas a difficult task since he was so close and so…large.

  She was being an empty-headed ninny. She was a whore and had been for several months now. Why did this one man cause such nervousness within her? They would tussle. They would tup. She would leave. Nothing different from the other men who had used her body before him.

  With a renewed sense of her place in this, she stood and waited for him to pour the water over her. She did have to struggle with herself not to raise her arms to cover herself from his sight. Instead, she concentrated on the warmth of the water as it flowed over her head and down the rest of her. She had not been this clean…in months. When she wiped her eyes clear, she saw Lord Gavin standing with his hand outstretched to her, to help her step from the tub.

  Elizabeth accepted it and found herself wrapped in a drying cloth and standing before the hearth, absorbing its heat. ’Twas pure luxury, she knew, but if this was the way he would pay her, she was tired and dirty enough to accept it. Of course, as Lord Orrick’s guest, there was no fee to be paid. Without a word, he walked back to the bed and climbed in it.

  “My lord,” she said, turning to him. “My thanks for sharing your bath. Should I call the servants to remove the tub now?”

  “Nay, lass. Leave it until morn.”

  She hesitated, not sure of what to do or where to go. He watched her every move. Finally she decided not to delay his pleasure any longer. This sense of unbalance in her that his nearness and his looks and his voice caused within her had to end. She unwrapped the cloths from around her and walked to the bed, not hiding from him. A woman’s naked flesh seemed to get most men ready for tupping and she expected that he would grab her and take her now.

  He did nothing but look at her. Slowly his gaze moved up and down over her, making her breasts tighten and sending waves of heat through her belly. Elizabeth did not recognize these feelings and was not certain if she wanted them to stay or go. Lord Gavin turned from her for a moment and she realized he was holding the covers out for her to enter the bed, but he offered her the side of the bed away from the door of the chambers. After a momentary hesitation, she walked around and climbed in next to him.

  Elizabeth lay next to him, enjoying the comfort of the overstuffed mattress and the smell of the clean sheets on it. The thin pallet on which she slept here and the one in her cottage offered nothing close to the feeling of floating that this one did. She sighed and allowed herself a moment before turning her attentions to the naked man beside her.

  He smiled when she looked at him. Were her small comforts humorous to him? Most likely since he was accustomed to such. She had been, as well…before. His expression turned serious and she expected that ’twas time to begin.

  “Sleep well, lass.”

  Lord Gavin shifted on the mattress and arranged the bed-covers several times before seeming to find a comfortable position. He was going to sleep. Sleep?

  “My lord? Is there something else?”

  “Nay, lass. I asked for a bath and I had it. ’Tis all I wanted this night.”

  “But my lord…” She began to push the blank
ets off her. “I should go.”

  “And rest on a dusty pallet in the hall? Now that you are clean, why not rest here this night?” His hand on hers stayed her leaving.

  His voice held compassion and caring in its deep, velvety tones and Elizabeth fought the tears that burned in her throat. No one, not even Lord Orrick, had treated her with this much concern in years and years and she felt herself weakening in the face of it. Did he know what he did to her? Did he know that he could destroy her with such consideration?

  “If you wish, my lord.” She would rest the blame on him.

  “I wish it, lass.” His thick burr curled around his words and she felt his heated breath next to her ear.

  So be it then. Elizabeth sank into the mattress and the heat of his grasp on her hand spread through the rest of her. Tired from hours of serving meals and cleaning in the kitchens, she could feel sleep taking its hold of her.

  “My name is Elizabeth,” she whispered, for no reason she could think of.

  “Sleep well, Elizabeth.”

  “Any success in our quest?”

  Gavin glared at Orrick as he seated himself next to his host at the table in order to break his fast. Lady Margaret was nowhere to be seen this morn. A serving girl placed a tankard in front of him before he could ask for it.

  “Our quest? I did not know you were working on this with me.” He drank deeply of the ale.

  “Do not quibble with me, Gavin. Did you find the answers I seek or not?”

  Orrick was testy this morn. Good. Served him right to feel the frustration that he himself felt. Well, he was certain ’twas not the exact same frustration. He delayed answering by drinking again and then calling for food and waiting for its arrival.

 

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