with a beautiful drape and a slit up the front that also exposed the cream silk chemise. And last, the waistline was heavily, and magnificently, embroidered in a darker purple with hints of silver.
Then I slid my feet into deep purple satin slippers.
Then I went to the carved box on the dressing table where I’d seen some ribbons and hair clips and selected a pair of clips that were filigree silver with purple stones adorning them that looked like real amethysts. I pulled my hair back on either side but let the back fall long and I looked in the mirror.
I didn’t look half bad but I also didn’t look like a fairytale princess
I guessed it would have to do.
I pinched my cheeks on the way to the sitting room and when I arrived I found another pretty room decorated in blues and peaches. There were comfortable chairs set in front of a wide, arched, multi-diamond- paned window, another chair with a round, button-topped, tassel-bottomed ottoman in a corner and a small, round, spindly-legged table in the middle accompanied by two chairs, their poofy, button-topped seats a plush peach.
This table was laid with ornate silver, china, a crystal vase holding a single, perfect peach rose and it also held my breakfast which appeared to be French toast dusted with powdered sugar and covered in sliced strawberries, something rich, creamy and yummy-looking oozing out of the middle, coffee, orange juice and a jug of water with actual ice.
My stomach growled and my eyes shot to the other thing in the room, the still dour-faced, buxom, kerchief-wearing, apron-dressed woman who clearly hated me.
I pinned a bright smile on my face. “Good morning,” I greeted and looked down at the food. “This looks –”
“If it pleases your grace,” she interrupted me, “I’ll say what I have to say while you eat, you can give me your instructions and I’ll take my leave.”
At her words, my step faltered and I stopped.
Then I moved slowly to the table, pulled out a chair and seated myself while saying softly, “Yes, please, that sounds perfect.”
She approached the table but didn’t get too close, either because she couldn’t stand being in the same space as me or she thought I had the power to strike out and sink fangs into her.
I poured coffee from a sliver service into a china cup and she began.
“The last time you were here, your grace, you made it very clear that our service was… wanting,” she started.
Oh shit.
“This time,” she went on, “we will endeavor to meet your every whim to your exacting standards. I just require that you relate those standards to me prior to your expecting them so that I can educate my staff in what you will be requiring. That way, I won’t find my girls in fits of tears or need to talk others out of leaving their employment on the spot.”
I stared up at her.
Holy crap! What on earth did the other Cora do? Jeez!
“Um…” What could I say? “I was…” Shit! “Uh, out of sorts last time I was here. In fact, I wasn’t…” Drat! “Entirely myself. It seems that I caused some upset.”
“Indeed!” she replied tartly.
“Well…” I started, pulled in a deep breath and leaned slightly toward her.
Instantly, her upper body reared back.
Yep, she thought I could strike out with my fangs.
Yikes.
I decided to sally forth and finished, “I’m very sorry about that. Very sorry. I was… it was… unforgiveable but I want you to know, and please tell your girls, that I am truly, very sorry.”
She blinked.
Then she rallied and snapped, “Fine. Now, do you have any specific instruction?”
“Um… can I, uh… can you ask me that again in a few days? I’d like to get my bearings.”
“With all due respect, your grace, no,” she answered shortly. “As I explained, I would like to know exactly what you require before you require it.”
My mind whirled. Then I thought of something.
“Okay, well, um, I don’t like celery,” I told her.
“Noted,” she clipped and then glared at me as she waited for more.
“And, um, my husband doesn’t like that gardenia scent.”
Her brows shot to her hairline. “That is, as you know, your grace, your specifically requested scent. You did, as you know, your grace, make rather a fuss about it last time.”
Uh-oh.
“It’s lovely. I mean, I think it’s beautiful. Utterly perfect,” I lied. “But Tor doesn’t like it so, perhaps –”
“Noted,” she bit off curtly.
Oh boy. She wasn’t melting at all.
“Okay, well,” I kept trying. “I was wondering, if Tor can’t do it, could someone take me for a tour of –”
“The kitchens,” she finished for me. “Of course, it’ll be arranged immediately.”
“No, I meant the castle,” I explained and her head cocked sharply to the side.
“You had no interest the last time.”
Of course I didn’t.
“Well, I wasn’t, uh… myself the last time.”
She nodded once. “Noted.”
I bit my lip. Then I asked, “Where is Tor?”
“He has, as you know, your grace,” she stated tersely, “been away for some time. He has things to do and those things, I hope you don’t mind if I be so bold as to inform you, don’t all involve dancing attendance on you.”
Lordy, but she hated Cora.
“Right,” I whispered.
“So he’s doing them,” she concluded.
“Of course,” I replied.
“Is there more?” she snapped.
“I don’t think so,” I answered.
“Last time, there was more.”
I bet there was.
“Well, if so, I’ll be certain to speak to only you about it,” I promised.
“Fine,” she clipped. “And how long will you be gracing us with your presence this time? Will you be leaving this eve?” she asked hopefully.
“Uh… no.”
Her expression finally changed but only to obvious disappointment.
Yeesh.
The door behind me opened, she looked over my head, her eyes got big and I twisted in my chair just in time for Tor to get there and pull me right out of it and into his arms.
Then, kid you not, right in front of the woman, his head descended and his mouth captured mine in a long, wet, hot, racy kiss that left me with my arms wrapped tight around his neck, my body arched against the length of his and my lungs breathless.
His mouth went away nary an inch when he lifted his head and his eyes found mine.
“Good morning, wife,” he whispered.
My belly melted.
God, how I wished the last word in his sentence was actually true.
“Good morning, husband,” I whispered back.
He grinned and his arms tightened, pulling me even closer.
“How are you this morning?” he asked an outwardly innocent but totally intimate question in a low, slightly
