romantic liaison.
Robert Small emerged just then from the library. “Well, lass,?we’re done now. May I treat you to dinner at the
“Oh, Robbie. I’m having dinner with Lord Southwood. He is,?it seems, my neighbor.”
“That knave! Christ’s toenail, Skye, are you mad?”
“Now, Robbie, he has apologized for his rudeness. I have no?friends here in London, and you’ll soon be off again. I must start?somewhere.”
“He has a wife,” stated Robert Small flatly.
“I suspected so, but I do not seek a romantic entanglement with?Geoffrey.”
Robert Small’s bushy gray-black eyebrows shot up. “Geoffrey,?is it? Well, my lass, so you’ll know a bit about the man, attend me.?His first wife died when she was a child. His second wife is a woman?of no beauty, but much wealth. She’s borne him one son and seven?daughters, and for her perfidy she and her daughters are exiled to? Lynton Court, her childhood home. He sends his steward each Mi-?chaelmas to pay the servants there for the year. Cold bastard, I’d?say. He’s rich, though. At least we don’t have to worry about him?being after your money.”
His dour concern over fortune-hunting men made her laugh. She?ruffled his thinning hair. “Dear Robbie, you’re a good watchdog,?and I thank you. You and Dame Cecily and Willow are my entire?family. I promise to be very careful in my relationship with Lord?Southwood, but it’s only a late supper.”
“I’ll stay the night, Skye. It’s best you have a man in the house.”
“Thank you, Robbie. Now, I’d best prepare myself,” and giving?him a quick kiss on the cheek she ran upstairs to her own apartment.?”Daisy!” she called. “Have a footman set up my bath and lay out?the peacock-blue velvet gown with the gold thread flowered under-?skirt.”
As the footmen lugged the buckets of steaming water up the back?stairs from the kitchen, Skye sat at her dressing table sliding neck-?laces through her slender fingers. She decided upon a double strand?of perfectly matched pale-pink pearls from which hung a teardrop diamond of slightly deeper pink. The necklace had been Khalid’s?gift. It no longer hurt quite so much to think about Khalid.
The footmen departed and she undressed slowly. Daisy took each?garment, and Skye reached for some tortoiseshell hairpins and se-?cured her dark hair. It would not be necessary to wash it tonight,?as she had done so yesterday in a mixture of fresh rainwater and?essence of roses. Now she walked naked across the room and poured?some of the same rose essence into her tub. Daisy averted her brown?eyes. She could simply not get used to her mistress’s habit of bathing?regularly, let alone bathing naked. The young woman liked her?mistress, however, and so she bore with her eccentricities.
Skye chuckled. “You can open your eyes now, Daisy. I’m safely?in the tub.”
“Oh, mum, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
“Haven’t you ever looked at yourself, Daisy? Women have very?lovely bodies, but men are never quite so pretty.”
“Oh, mum! How you talk! Look at myself indeed! If me mother?had ever caught me doing such a thing she’d have beat me black?and blue.”
Skye smiled to herself and wondered why the English-no, she?amended-why the Europeans were so afraid of their bodies. Then?she laughed at herself for, though she could not remember it, she?too was European. But she couldn’t imagine herself bathing only?a few times a year, and then in a cotton shift!
She picked up the damask rose soap, built up a rich lather, and?washed her face. She lathered the rest of her lithe body, slowly and?thoroughly, summoning an almost unbearably sensuous feeling.?Good Lord, she thought, as she watched the nipples of her breasts?harden, I’m alive again, and I want a man to love. She blushed with?the memory of how Geoffrey Southwood had looked at her this?afternoon.
Stepping hastily from the tub, she took the big warmed towel?from Daisy and began to dry herself. “Bring me a light wool caftan,”?she said. “It’s too early to dress yet. I’ll sleep for a bit.”
Slipping on the caftan, she added, “Leave the tub till later, I’ll?rest now, and ring when I want you. Go get your dinner.” The little?maid curtseyed and left the room.
Skye lay upon her bed, drawing a fur robe over herself. Geoffrey?Southwood had a finely turned leg, she thought, and those lime-?green eyes had undoubtedly melted many a heart. She was much?too vulnerable to be having dinner with him. Oh, why had she?accepted the invitation? She was lonely. Perhaps that was why.?Khalid had been dead almost two years, and suddenly she was again?aware of the fact that she was a woman, a woman who, up until her husband’s death, had been well loved. She would have to be very?careful lest she present the Earl of Lynmouth with the wrong impres-?sion of herself. She drifted into a light sleep and awakened at Daisy’s? touch.
“The Earl of Lynmouth’s footman is below, mum. His lordship?will be here in half an hour.”
Skye stretched languidly. “Fetch me a basin of rose water, Daisy.?Is my gown ready?”
“Yes, mum.”
Skye bathed her face, hands, and neck, having shed the caftan.?With averted eyes Daisy handed her mistress her silk undergarments,?lacing the little boned busk up tightly, smoothing down the several?petticoats, the last one threaded through with blue ribbons, as was?her silk underblouse. Skye slipped on her new knitted silk stockings? which were of the palest blue with a tiny silver thread vine pattern.?Her garters were also blue with deep pink rosettes.
Daisy carefully slipped the gold-threaded underskirt over Skye’s?head, and laced it up. Lastly came the beautiful peacock-blue velvet?gown, split to show the embroidered underskirt. The puffed sleeves?were slashed to reveal a soft creamy sheer silk underblouse. Skye?slipped on her blue satin slippers and stood before the pier glass,?a faint smile on her lips. She slid the pearls around her neck, watch-?ing with fascination as the pink diamond nestled in the deep valley?between her breasts. Yes, it was perfect.
Daisy held up a tray of rings, but Skye selected only a large?baroque pearl and placed it on her right hand. She held out her hands?and was pleased with the simple effect the single ring created. Her?hands were especially beautiful, slender with long, well-shaped fin-?gers, the nails delicately rounded and buffed to a healthy pink.
She gazed at her image again. I am
“His lordship is here, mum,” said Daisy. “The footman has just?come up with word.”
“Have the footman tell his lordship I shall be down directly, and?escort him into the small receiving room. Have Walter pour him?some wine.”
Daisy curtseyed. “Yes, mum.”
Skye moved slowly to her dressing table and reached for her scent?bottle. She daubed the rose fragrance on all the available pulse?points, remembering Yasmin as she did. Dear God, she thought, if?there is a Paradise, please don’t let Yasmin be Khalid’s houri. I?forgave her for the sake of both our immortal souls, but I couldn’t?bear it if she was with him when I can’t be. The tears sprang to her?eyes, and she quickly snatched up a lace-edged handkerchief. Then, fixing a little smile on her lips, she left to join the Earl of Lynmouth.
Geoffrey Southwood had declined both a seat in the receiving room and the wine. With undisguised admiration he now watched as Skye descended the staircase. Reaching the bottom, she swept him an elegant curtsey. “Good evening, my lord Southwood.” He admired her lovely breasts which momentarily swelled over her seemingly modest square neckline.
“And a good even’ to you, Senora Goya del Fuentes. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve arranged for the door in our garden wall to be opened. I assume you won’t object to a stroll in the gardens.”
“No, I don’t mind a stroll.”
He offered her his arm, and they moved through the house and?out into the evening. The air was mild, and the night sky clear. His?slim hand covered hers, and as they walked he said quietly, “Are?you aware of how beautiful you are? There isn’t a woman at Court?who compares with you.”
“Even the Queen?” she teased.
“Her Majesty is in a class by herself, my pet. No one compares?with Elizabeth Tudor.”
“Bravo, my lord Earl! The perfect courtier’s reply,” she mocked?mischievously.
“I
“You are titled, intelligent, and wealthy,” she said. “Why should?it matter to you if the Queen favors you?”
The question pleased him, for it showed she had intelligence.?Oddly enough, he liked intelligent women. “The
