felt unbearable. “You could visit me in New York,” she said with a soft smile.
“Hmm, and I am certain you will revisit England. But when will these magical visits happen? A few years from now?”
She pulled a few pieces of grass and tossed them toward the lake.
“At the ball, I want to see you in a pretty dress, dancing slippers, and flowers in your hair. I want to hold you in my arms and dance with you for the entire night, for I might never get the chance again.”
And I want that too.
“I’ll brush up on my dancing then, I’ve not much practice.” Looking out toward the lake, she said, “I would entrust to you a letter for my mother. She is in Bath at Camden Place and entirely unaware of what my stepfather has done. I do not want to alarm her if she does not know, but I must send her a letter to let her know I am staying with a few friends. I’ll be suitably vague about my whereabouts, but she will know that I am well.”
“I will arrange it for you.”
“Thank you, Wentworth.”
He fisted the back of her jacket and tugged her down, so she fell atop him.
“Tonight, I’m going to serve you.”
“With kisses?” she murmured, brushing her mouth against his.
“I am going to give you a bath in my chamber…and then towel you off.”
She froze at the provocative image that blasted in her mind. “You’ll do no such thing,” Juliana gasped.
He arched a brow. “So, you’ve taken a bath since you’ve been here? I do not think so. You’ve only been using a washbasin with tepid water. Anything more would risk the other staff discovering you. Imagine it,” the devil tempted. “That large copper tub, filled with hot water, a rose-scented soap, and you soak as long as you wish. I’ll even help you wash your hair.”
She moaned, and he closed his eyes, a shudder going through his body.
“Make that sound again.”
Juliana blinked, uncertain how to reproduce the sound; it had been natural and simply slipped out. Wanting to please him, she tried. It sounded like a dying frog.
He grinned, then laughed. The sound of his laughter was rich and husky. She liked it. “You—”
“My lord!” a high pitch voice squeaked in abject shock.
They froze, and Juliana barely shifted her head to see a small lad of about ten years, just staring at them, his eyes wide in his face.
“What are you doing here, boy?”
“I…I…mi…I…” The boy grunted, clearly flustered and frustrated with getting his words out. “Swim!” he finally said, still staring at the sight of a supposed gentleman atop his master.
“What is your name?”
“Tommy, milord!”
“And where do you work?”
“In…in the stables with me pa,” he said proudly.
She could feel Wentworth thinking.
“I forbid you from telling anyone what you’ve seen today.”
“Yes, milord!”
“Good, now run along.”
The boy disappeared, and Juliana blew out a sharp breath. Before she could speak, a voice said,
“Milord?”
“Bloody hell,” Wentworth said, “I thought you left, Tommy.”
“Yes, milord, but me came back. What ye mean by forbid?”
“I am your master, and you are not to tell anyone you saw me with my valet lying atop me.”
There was a thoughtful silence, and she looked up to see the boy staring at her.
“I didn’t know he was yer valet, milord. I thought it was a girl dressed as a lad. Shan’t tell a soul, milord!”
Wentworth reached into his pocket, withdrew a coin, and flicked it at the boy. His eyes went wide at the sum, and a toothy grin spread across his face before he took off.
It was to her credit that she kept a straight face until the lad disappeared. Juliana dissolved into laughter.
“I am not certain what there’s to laugh about,” Wentworth grumbled.
Despite his disgruntlement, laughter lurked in his tone.
“You should have seen the look on your face. Do you think young Tommy will gossip with the other servants?”
“He’s young, and he bloody well thought you a girl until I put other ideas in his head. How was I fooled, and the lad knew it with one look? No doubt it was your lush derriere that did the trick.”
“My derriere?” she asked archly.
“Hmm, it was this sweetly rounded mouthwatering backside of yours which first roused me…in every way.”
Juliana chuckled even harder. Wentworth spun with her, bracing his weight above her.
In his eyes, she spied something tender.
“Your laughter sounds like a goose.”
How did he manage to infuse such beguiling warmth in his voice? It took her a moment, but she gasped. “I