Page 37 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
A soft rap sounded on a door leading to the other room. It slowly opened, and a young girl with a mobcap covering her brown hair smiled tentatively at Rose. “We’ve prepared you a bath, miss.”
“Oh.” She needed to say more than that. “Thank you.”
Cautiously she walked into the tiled bathing chamber. It had an immense copper tub in which she could practically go swimming.
“I’m Edith,” the young maid said, obviously striving not to be disconcerted by the sight of Rose’s torn bodice or missing buttons. “Are you hurt?”
“No. He didn’t force me if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Relief washed over Edith’s features. “I know it’s not his way, but he seemed rather upset. He was barking orders— Apologies. I’ve spoken what I shouldn’t.” She cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders. “I shall begin anew. It will be my pleasure to assist you. A footman is bringing up your things now. I’ll put them away while you soak in the tub for a bit.”
So it appeared she was staying. “Thank you,” she said again.
With Edith’s help, she managed to get out of her clothing without incident and climbed into the tub, welcoming the warm water seeping in around her as she sank down. Edith put a small pillow beneath Rose’s head.
“There now, you just rest for a bit,” Edith said quietly, as though Rose were on her deathbed. “I’ll be back to wash you once I’ve seen to your things.”
Rose wondered what Avendale had told the maid to make her so solicitous. She took a deep breath, exhaled, sinking more deeply into the water. Taking a moment, she made note of the gold fixtures that were part of the tub and a nearby sink. He had plumbing up here. That must have cost him a pretty penny.
Closing her eyes, she allowed the lapping water to soothe her. It was so quiet, almost unnaturally calm within the residence. She heard movement in her bedchamber, no doubt her trunk being delivered, Edith putting her things away.
But where was Avendale?
She wanted him. She wanted him to take her in his arms, hold her near, comfort her—
With a moan, she buried her face in her hands. That was stupid. From the moment she’d run away from home, she’d relied on no one except herself. Her cunning, her plotting, her determination. She was strong. She didn’t need Avendale.
But shewantedhim. Somehow that seemed so much worse than needing him. It gave him control.
A soft rap.
They had an arrangement. It wasn’t based on love, caring, or affection. It was pure lust, some animalistic attraction that had them clawing at each other whenever they got close. It was madness. She had to recognize it for what it was and keep her heart from becoming involved.
Another soft rap.
“Yes?” she called out this time.
The door opened. “Are you ready for me, miss?” Edith asked gently as though she expected Rose to shatter.
It irritated her that Avendale had thought she needed to be mollycoddled, just because he’d taken her maidenhead. Blast him. She wasn’t weak.
“Yes,” she answered with a bit more firmness in her voice. As she sat up, the pillow plopped into the water.
Edith retrieved it, before she began washing Rose’s hair.
It wasn’t long before Rose found herself in her nightdress, sitting on a sofa before a low fire, her hair braided. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised by Edith’s expertise at assisting her. She had no doubt that Avendale entertained lots of ladies here. She thought about inquiring but she was in no mood to have confirmed that she was one of many. Perhaps it was because of what she’d given up tonight that she wanted to feel special. Even though she knew she wasn’t.
Yet one more soft rap on the door.
Merrick and Sally never knocked so softly. It was almost as though this residence was in mourning. Suddenly she wished she were back with those she cared for.
Edith set a tray with covered dishes on a low table in front of her. “Your dinner, miss.”
“Where is the duke?”
Straightening, Edith interlaced her fingers tightly together. “In the library.”
Rose got to her feet. “I should like to see him.”
