“Very well. I don’t wish to be knocked unconscious nor do I wish you to drug me. The thought of willingly taking off my clothes with you anywhere around at all makes me quite ill. Let’s get it over with.”
He merely nodded, rose, pulled on his gloves, and helped her to rise from her chair. He drew her unresisting arm through his and led her to the door of the cafe.
The owner was rendered almost incoherent with gratitude when the gentleman pressed a louis into his outstretched hand. He stood in the doorway of his small establishment and watched the lady and gentleman step into a hackney. He had thought their behavior odd but, not understanding a word they’d said, had shrugged his shoulders in expressive indifference. The English were, after all, quite mad.
She spoke scarce a word as Julien guided her to various milliner shops and booteries throughout the remainder of the morning and into the afternoon. She appeared uninterested, coldly withdrawn, and acquiesced to whatever he directed her to do. It was he who chose the dainty kid slippers and the colorful assortment of bonnets. He decided her hair was auburn, a rich, brilliant auburn, at least in the soft afternoon light. He retained a certain degree of skepticism at her seeming capitulation but allowed himself, for the moment at least, to let his nerves enjoy their first respite in over a week.
Later in the afternoon, their shopping completed, he led her, still unresisting, to his lodgings.
“This is your room, Kate.” He led her inside, felt her stiffen suddenly beside him, and watched her eyes as she stared at the large bed in the center of the room. She took a step backward, but he stopped her with his arm against her back. He chose for the moment to ignore her gesture. “Ah, here’s your maid, Anne. She’ll help you bathe and dress. If there’s anything you require, you have but to ask.”
He turned to the maid and gave her instructions in a low voice. He nodded to Kate and left her room through an adjoining door.
He stood quietly for a moment in his own room. He wasn’t displeased by the fear he had seen on her face. He knew he was a skilled lover, and he felt confident that he would make her forget her natural virgin’s fear. He had, after all, felt the quickening response of her body whenever he was close to her. His main problem would be not her fear but her pride. In all likelihood she would view pleasure at his hands as a final capitulation to his dominance over her. And that was the sticking point, he thought. He supposed he could always challenge her to a duel. He imagined that if he won, then and only then would she consider being reasonable.
Kate forced herself to turn away from the bed. She felt sweat on her forehead and rubbed her damp hands on her skirt. She watched the maid Anne bustle toward her after giving Julien a deep curtsy as he left the room. In sudden panic she started toward the door, only to realize that she wouldn’t get beyond the stairs.
With a dragging step she returned to the waiting maid, who was regarding her with some astonishment. She stood silently as the maid helped her out of her dress and into her bath.
It seemed that but a moment had passed when she heard Anne say with a good deal of enthusiasm, “How beautiful you are, my lady.”
“I’m not a lady.”
“I’m French, you know, and my English is excellent, but I understand you not at all. You will soon be a countess. Isn’t that a lady? What matters if you are not the real lady until five o’clock?”
“It doesn’t matter.” For the first time that afternoon, she focused her attention on the maid’s words and looked to see herself in the long mirror. She stared at her reflection as the maid smoothed an invisible wrinkle from the skirt of the white-satin-and-lace wedding gown. She wasn’t a vain woman. On the other hand, she’d never seen herself gowned so exquisitely, her hair fashioned with such elegant style. She had to admit that she looked quite nice, and her fear grew. Julien too would think her beautiful.
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