down at her shoes, but not before Grace noticed the telltale blush that stole across her cheeks.
“Oh, no need for embarrassment, Bessie. I’m thankful you know me so well, and you never complain. I don’t know what I'd do without you.” Grace’s voice trailed off as an unexpected wave of sadness crept over her when her mind touched on the changes in her life over the past year. Thankfully, Bessie spoke and put a halt to her wandering thoughts.
“Now, now dearest, there’s no need to thank me, really. You’re like the daughter I never had, and when your dear mother and father passed, bless their souls, I couldn’t leave you. With no siblings and just your aunt? Oh dear, how I do rattle on. Let’s get you situated in the tub and start setting you to rights. I’ve brought you a pot of hot chocolate and some toast since you’ll likely miss breakfast before we’re through.”
“Thank you, Bessie, really. As always, you make everything just right.” Grace, now undressed, relaxed into the steaming tub. “Oh, this water feels wonderful. It almost makes my trip to the mud bath worth it.”
“My dear, what a lovely you are. You handle your incidents with such…well, grace. Now, you just relax whilst I run off to see what I can do for these clothes. I shall be back in a trice to help you dress and ready yourself for the afternoon. For now, simply relax and I’ll be back before you know it.”
And at that, Bessie left and Grace set herself to the task of washing away the souvenirs from her adventure in the garden.
After a thorough wash and final rinse of her hair, she calmed enough to relax in the soothing waters of her bath where her thoughts quickly returned to her encounter with the infamous Duke of Stonebridge, known stickler for propriety, noted for his impatience for anyone less than perfect, famous for his seriousness at all times, and well-known as the soon-to-be fiancé to her first cousin, Beatryce.
Though the duke and Beatryce had known each other since childhood, she never had the pleasure of meeting him before today, not directly anyway. She’d certainly heard plenty about him though. With his extreme wealth, title, and good looks, he was considered THE catch of the upper ten thousand even though everyone expected him to marry Beatryce.
Despite all of that knowledge, however, nothing prepared her for the reality of the presence of the Duke of Stonebridge. Just thinking about their encounter brought forth an alarming wave of heat across her body. Fortunately, it was quite easy to convince herself that these telltale signs were due to the warmth of her bath water. Not a result of thinking about him.
Of all the people to meet during one of my incidents. The duke himself. In the flesh. Beatryce’s almost betrothed. Sigh.
Did she imagine the secret smile and the heat that seemed to flash in his eyes before he so abruptly left her in the garden? Nothing about their encounter fit with her mind’s preconceived picture of the duke’s personality. He was known for his seriousness and staid countenance. The gossip below-stairs had painted an all too vivid picture in her mind despite her best attempt not to prejudge someone she didn’t know. Yet for a moment, she thought she had detected real warmth in his gaze, albeit briefly. Did she meet an imposter? Most likely this warmth was the result of her own overactive imagination. Or perhaps, wishful thinking that for once, her clumsiness could be overlooked by someone other than herself, the servants, and Bessie. Certainly, above all, she detected barely constrained power lurking behind his eyes. In her mind, that power equated to warmth and passion. So much for the cold, aloof man she had expected.
Ugh. And why should I care? Really. He is practically married. To Beatryce of all people.
And he was reputably too stuffy to warrant a turn of her head anyway. Just because he had heavenly eyes, didn’t mean he…
Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapid
“Oh, no need for embarrassment, Bessie. I’m thankful you know me so well, and you never complain. I don’t know what I'd do without you.” Grace’s voice trailed off as an unexpected wave of sadness crept over her when her mind touched on the changes in her life over the past year. Thankfully, Bessie spoke and put a halt to her wandering thoughts.
“Now, now dearest, there’s no need to thank me, really. You’re like the daughter I never had, and when your dear mother and father passed, bless their souls, I couldn’t leave you. With no siblings and just your aunt? Oh dear, how I do rattle on. Let’s get you situated in the tub and start setting you to rights. I’ve brought you a pot of hot chocolate and some toast since you’ll likely miss breakfast before we’re through.”
“Thank you, Bessie, really. As always, you make everything just right.” Grace, now undressed, relaxed into the steaming tub. “Oh, this water feels wonderful. It almost makes my trip to the mud bath worth it.”
“My dear, what a lovely you are. You handle your incidents with such…well, grace. Now, you just relax whilst I run off to see what I can do for these clothes. I shall be back in a trice to help you dress and ready yourself for the afternoon. For now, simply relax and I’ll be back before you know it.”
And at that, Bessie left and Grace set herself to the task of washing away the souvenirs from her adventure in the garden.
After a thorough wash and final rinse of her hair, she calmed enough to relax in the soothing waters of her bath where her thoughts quickly returned to her encounter with the infamous Duke of Stonebridge, known stickler for propriety, noted for his impatience for anyone less than perfect, famous for his seriousness at all times, and well-known as the soon-to-be fiancé to her first cousin, Beatryce.
Though the duke and Beatryce had known each other since childhood, she never had the pleasure of meeting him before today, not directly anyway. She’d certainly heard plenty about him though. With his extreme wealth, title, and good looks, he was considered THE catch of the upper ten thousand even though everyone expected him to marry Beatryce.
Despite all of that knowledge, however, nothing prepared her for the reality of the presence of the Duke of Stonebridge. Just thinking about their encounter brought forth an alarming wave of heat across her body. Fortunately, it was quite easy to convince herself that these telltale signs were due to the warmth of her bath water. Not a result of thinking about him.
Of all the people to meet during one of my incidents. The duke himself. In the flesh. Beatryce’s almost betrothed. Sigh.
Did she imagine the secret smile and the heat that seemed to flash in his eyes before he so abruptly left her in the garden? Nothing about their encounter fit with her mind’s preconceived picture of the duke’s personality. He was known for his seriousness and staid countenance. The gossip below-stairs had painted an all too vivid picture in her mind despite her best attempt not to prejudge someone she didn’t know. Yet for a moment, she thought she had detected real warmth in his gaze, albeit briefly. Did she meet an imposter? Most likely this warmth was the result of her own overactive imagination. Or perhaps, wishful thinking that for once, her clumsiness could be overlooked by someone other than herself, the servants, and Bessie. Certainly, above all, she detected barely constrained power lurking behind his eyes. In her mind, that power equated to warmth and passion. So much for the cold, aloof man she had expected.
Ugh. And why should I care? Really. He is practically married. To Beatryce of all people.
And he was reputably too stuffy to warrant a turn of her head anyway. Just because he had heavenly eyes, didn’t mean he…
Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapid
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