Page 16 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)
Arend offered his hand. “Don’t take too long. Hadley and I are getting nervous. Besides, who says she’s finished with any of us. We are all still in danger.” With that comforting thought, Arend took his leave and Maitland made his way to his study.
Marisa woke to the sound of the draperies being pulled. Brilliant sunshine flooded the room and she stretched like a cat waking before a warm fire.
“I’ve taken the liberty of drawing you a bath, Your Grace,” Susan said, as she carried a robe into the bathing chamber that adjoined her and her husband’s rooms. They each had doors that gave them access from either side.
“Stop being so formal. You’ve always called me Marisa.”
Susan gave her a warm smile, the lines on her face becoming more prominent.
Susan had been her lady’s maid for only a few years, but she’d served Marisa’s aunt for almost twenty-five years.
“I knew you’d marry well, but a duchess!
It is appropriate that I address you as such if you are to earn the trust and respect of the household staff. ”
Marisa thought on that. It was fairly daunting, the idea that she was now responsible for running this home, and Maitland’s many other homes. “You will call me Marisa when we are alone, lest this title goes to my head.”
“That would be acceptable. I shall try to help you navigate the staff as much as possible. I realize your aunt tried to instill the requirements of running a large household to both of you girls, but as I remember, you didn’t pay as much attention as did Helen.”
She deserved Susan’s light scolding. At the time, she had not understood the reality of her future station; now it was crashing down on her. “Thank you. I do feel rather overwhelmed.” Suddenly aware of the brilliant sunshine, she asked, “What time is it?”
“’Tis after two, and your sister and Beatrice are coming at three, and you’ve yet to meet the staff.”
“Now you tell me.” Marisa threw back the covers, heedless of the scant negligee. “Why did you not wake me earlier? Maitland must think me a wastrel to have slept so late. Goodness, I still have to bathe.”
She wondered what Maitland did think of her. It hurt that he hadn’t wanted to spend the night with her. After being as close to a man as any woman could be, his casual dismissal made her feel insignificant. She felt as if she might have done something wrong.
No. She’d given all of herself, whereas Maitland seemed to hold himself back, as if it was a sin to show any emotion at all. Had she given too much? Was a lady supposed to be so enthusiastic?
Susan’s face flushed. “I suspect you’ll need a bath, Your Grace.
Besides, His Grace is out at present, but he left instructions to leave you sleeping.
You’re to attend Lord and Lady Hutchinson’s ball this evening.
I’m assuming he doesn’t want you tired out after the wedding night. ” Susan raised a knowing eyebrow.
Marisa’s face heated and she quickly made her way to the tub, grateful to sink into the hot water.
She ached in places she’d never ached before.
Her head ached almost as much as her muscles did.
She was pleased Beatrice was coming; if only she could have a private word without Helen being there.
She didn’t want Helen to worry about her.
Helen didn’t like this forced marriage and was not prepared to like Maitland yet.
She didn’t want to make her sister’s opinion of her husband any worse.
Maitland had suggested that if they married, their life together would be based on friendship.
How did one define friendship when you shared a bed?
After what they did in his bed last night, she wasn’t sure it would be enough for her.
To be intimate, to give of yourself, night after night, and not have that deepen into more would likely cheapen all she had experienced, leaving her empty and alone.
Last night she thought what they had shared was special, but she knew from her brother’s reputation that men were perfectly capable of separating the act of love with loving. If Maitland could simply dismiss her like a maid, it obviously had not been special to him.
That’s what hurt the most. Maitland was unaffected, whereas he’d changed her. His touch, his kiss, his passion, created a yearning deep inside. She wanted love. Since she was now married, it had to be his love.
She closed her eyes and laid her head against the side of the tub and let the heat try to soothe her battered soul. She was dangerously enamored of a man who might not even be capable of any deeper emotion.
Beatrice managed to win the heart of her brother, one of London’s most infamous rakes, a man who despised love. She must have answers. She would know what to do.
As Marisa dressed, she tried to concentrate on Susan’s prattle about who was who on the staff, but her mind was too occupied with other worries of a more intimate nature.
All right, she thought, as Susan fastened her gown, she needed to get Beatrice alone.
Susan could help with that. “Susan, I need a moment alone with Beatrice when they visit. Can you distract Helen for me? Perhaps you could say you’d like her opinion on a gown I want to wear but you’re unsure of the suitability of the neckline. ”
“That’s flimsy. Helen will know it’s a ploy.”
“Most likely, but she’ll graciously agree. She’ll know I can’t discuss certain intimacies with her. She’ll follow your lead.”
“When should I interrupt?”
“Once we’ve had tea. As it’s almost three now, I’ll meet the staff after they leave. Can you let Brunton know to have the staff ready at half after four? That will still give me plenty of time to dress for the ball.”
“You haven’t eaten today. Do you want something more substantial than the scones with tea?”
Marisa wasn’t hungry. The ball she could handle.
She’d been the belle of enough of them. What she worried about was what would happen after the ball.
Would Maitland come to her? She was not going to instigate intimacy as she did last night.
The fear of being rejected was simply too great.
She wanted to see if he truly desired her.
If the feelings rushing round her body were rioting inside Maitland, he’d come to her bed.
If he didn’t . . . She didn’t want to think what that might mean—for her and their marriage.