Page 52 of Wild Lily
Chapter 8
They ran like children along the stone path up to the servants back door. It was unlocked and Julian thrust it open easily, pulling her inside.
“Come. Here’s the kitchen. No fire, but it’s warm and dry. Sit there.” He looked her over. “You’re drenched. Hell.”
He took four huge strides, disappearing into another room and clanging about. If he kept up that racket, the whole house would soon be awake.
She rubbed her arms, grateful to be out of the storm, but wary of servants who might have been roused.
When he returned, he had his hands full of toweling.
Grateful to be rid of the blanket that smelled of horse, she shrugged it off and folded it. He hurried to wrap a large towel over her head.
She giggled. “You could wake the dead the way you scoured that room.”
“My housekeeper is quite deaf.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all. She’s never been quick to any sound.” He scrubbed her head with too much dedication.
“Ooof.” She picked up a corner of the towel to glare at him.
“Sorry. You need to dry your hair.” He rubbed her scalp furiously.
“If you don’t stop, sir, I’ll be bald!”
“Sorry.” He bent to peer at her. “Take off your jacket.”
She balked. She had removed her corset for this adventure and if she took off her jacket, it would most definitely be apparent that she was a rather loose woman. In more ways than one. “Ah. I don’t wish to. Unless… Do you have anything to replace it?”
“Not yet. I will.” He dropped another towel around her neck.
“Splendid. I’ll wait.”
“No. You will not.” He began to pick at the buttons on her coat.
She slapped his hands away. “Stop that.”
“You do it then. I’ll not have you die of cold at the risk of a layer of clothing.”
She clutched her stock to her throat. And true, it was wet, but she had few choices here. “It’s not just any layer.”
Confusion over took his brow. “What?”
“Can you please find me another coat?”
“I will if you promise to begin to unbutton that now.”
She tsked. “Hard bargainer.”
He stood. “I’ll be back with brandy and when I do, you’ll have that jacket off.”
“Fine, fine.” Fretting over that, she undid her last two buttons. Beneath it, the cold cotton of her blouse was damp. Under that, her skin was ablaze with the delicious nature of her predicament. But what Julian didn’t know was a good thing. “Hurry, please.”
He left her, ran up the steps and away. In the silent house, she marveled that no one had yet heard them. How many servants did he have? And were they all deaf?
She shrugged out of her jacket, covering her wet blouse and her beading nipples with the ends of a towel. Shivering in the damp cotton and trying to focus on how soon she’d be warm didn’t work.
