Breathless (House of Rohan) by Anne Stuart

Author:Anne Stuart [Stuart, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781452651026
Amazon: 1452651027
Publisher: Tantor
Published: 2011-03-29T16:00:00+00:00

15

Miranda was in her room for no more than a few minutes when Bridget appeared, looking slightly nervous as she helped her out of her nightclothes. “I’m that sorry I wasn’t here earlier, my lady. Mrs. Humber kept coming up with things to keep me busy, and then she forgot to make you a breakfast tray, and then his lordship stopped me on my way here, so it’s no wonder it took me that long to get here.” She looked nervous. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I? Mrs. Humber says a proper ladies’ maid never speaks unless spoken to, never volunteers information, and she says I’ll be a ladies’ maid when hell freezes over, begging your pardon, my lady.”

“You’ll be fine,” Miranda said in a soothing voice, ignoring her sudden uneasiness. “What did his lordship want to talk to you about?”

Bridget blushed a fiery red, and Miranda thought, oh merde. She should have known he wouldn’t take her word for things.

“Uh…he wanted to make sure you were comfortable up here, that you had everything you needed….”

“Such as?” Bridget was doing up her corset, pulling the laces tight, and Miranda took a deep breath, holding it in.

“He wanted to make certain you had everything you need,” Bridget mumbled again.

“You already said that. Exactly what did he ask you about, Bridget?” Miranda turned and caught Bridget by the arms, forcing her to meet her gaze even though she was fiery red.

“He wanted to make sure I could find rags for your monthlies. I was that embarrassed, my lady! That a gentleman would be asking about such things! But I couldn’t very well not answer, and I told him that you said you’d just finished and wouldn’t be needing anything for at least three weeks, possibly more because you were never certain and he just nodded and said ‘I thought as much’ and I thought I might have said something wrong but it was the master and…”

“Don’t worry about it, Bridget,” Miranda said calmly. She should have known he’d check. She was simply going to have to come up with some new excuse, like Scheherazade putting off her execution. The chair under the door handle might work, at least for one night. He wouldn’t rouse the household by banging the door down.

She would come up with something. She was blessed with an inventive mind, and if she could avoid doing that with Lucien de Malheur she would. At least for as long as possible. If she had to, she could lie there and take it. Recite poetry or poems in her head. Count to one hundred in Latin. Anything to take her mind off what was happening to her body.

In fact, that would be a most excellent way to avoid the deleterious effect of his kisses. Of the way her skin warmed when he put his hands on her. Latin was the perfect antidote to desire.

She was forced to admit the clothes he’d provided were beautiful, and fit perfectly. How long had he

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