Page 38 of The Baron Takes a Bet
“No, no, you misunderstand,” she said, swallowing her laughter. “It’s just…You’re completely covered in mud and they…” She tried to stifle her laughter. “And they barely gave you enough water to clean your face.”
As soon as the words had left her lips, she fell into a fit of giggles again.
“Yes, terribly amusing, that,” he said dryly, trying to sound annoyed even though her laughter made his chest swell with feeling. He would have to make do with what he had.
Undoing the ties at his wrists, he pulled the mud-covered shirt over his head, then took up one of the folded cloths the maids had carried in and began scrubbing his face, ears, and neck. He moved the warm, wet cloth through his hair, scratching his skull as he did so. The repetitive sloshing of water became the single noise in the room as he scrubbed the soap into the cloth, lathering it into a bubbly wash before moving it all over his neck and chest. Halfway through his cleaning, he turned his head over his shoulder to see if Holly was eating, but she was perfectly still, watching him.
She sat on one of the tiny stools around the table, eyes on him as he continued his task, if slightly slower now than when he had begun. He was intrigued when she didn’t turn away as he cleaned his chest and torso with the wet rag.
“Eat something, before it gets cold,” he said, causing her to jump slightly.
She cleared her throat.
“Yes, of course,” she said.
She refocused on the dinner tray before her as Gavin finished cleaning his upper body. Now, he was presented with a problem.
Usually, he would strip completely. If he had been alone, he probably would have eaten his food naked before falling asleep. But with Holly a handful of feet away from him, he couldn’t. As mature as she was, he was sure she had never seen a man completely naked, and while that pleased him, he had to keep in mind that she had led a sheltered life. He had no wish to shock or upset her.
Still, he couldn’t go to bed with his lower body still covered in mud.
Undoing the front buttons of his mud-cover pantaloons, he was quick to remove them and his short under breeches. With a speed he hadn’t known he possessed, he wiped the rest of himself down and pulled open his valise, removing a pair of long trousers.
To save Holly some embarrassment, he pulled them on as well as a clean shirt before turning towards her. He came around the table and took a seat, noting that she had barely eaten.
“Is the food bad?”
“Oh no,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she tore a piece of bread in half.
Curious, he tore his own bread and dipped it into the medium-warm beef stew. The scent of sweet carrots, peas, onions, and potatoes wafted up, and he ate it, only then realizing how famished he had been. He ate heartedly and was nearly finished when he noticed that Holly had finally eaten, at least, a portion of her meal, though far from all of it.
“Are you not hungry?”
“Not terribly, no,” she said, tugging at the damp collar of her dress.
Gavin’s full attention focused on her fingers. When she noticed where he was looking, her hand dropped. He had been so focused on his undressing that he hadn’t stopped thinking that Holly would have to undress as well.
“I suppose it getting late,” Holly said, her eyes not rising to meet his.
“I suppose,” he said, watching her.
After another minute of silence, she nodded and stood, as did he. She paused when she saw him stand.
“Um…I’m not sure… Well…”
“If you need me,” he said, moving around his chair to stand before her. He lifted his finger and gestured to the corner. “I’ll be over here.”
A wave of relief came over Holly’s face.
“Thank you, Gavin,” she said as she moved past him, and Gavin froze.
It was the first time she had called him by his name, and the way her voice wrapped around the letters made him hard and soft simultaneously and in different places. He couldn’t understand how a voice could make him rigid, but he knew he would give her the world if only he thought she’d accept it.
What a dangerous situation to be in.
He reached into his mudded coat pocket and pulled out one of the last lemony mint candies that he had devoured these past few weeks. Unfolding the tiny confection and popping into his mouth, he wondered if he would be able to discover the mystery sender, or if not, if he would at least be able to find the store that produced them.
The rustle of her undressing behind him, only a few short feet away, may have also contributed to his growing discomfort. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her scurry onto the mattress, and by the time she said, “You may turn around,” she was already beneath the covers, tucked into the corner of the bed, sheets pulled up to her chin.
