Francesca by Bertrice Small

Author:Bertrice Small [Small Bertrice]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780451413734
Google: HXdFLgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0451413733
Goodreads: 15784287
Publisher: NAL
Published: 2013-04-01T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Then I shall go and fetch the water for washing up,” he said, releasing her.

Francesca quickly reached out to place her hand upon the table lest she fall. Her knees were weak, much to her surprise. Rafaello was not her Carlo, but there was something about him that excited her. Since he was her husband it was certainly permissible that she indulge her curiosity. And the sooner, the better. She barely heated the water he returned with, then quickly washed the two plates, the stone cups, and the knives they had used. Then she washed her hands and face in the remaining water.

When she had finished and turned to find him, she saw he was already in the big bed. His clothing was neatly piled on one of the chairs. He had obviously undressed while she attended to the dishes. Certainly he did not expect her to undress before him, did he?

“Pull the bed curtains, my lord, and leave me a modicum of privacy, I beg you,” she said.

“Tonight,” he said in a quiet voice, “because it is our first night together. But never again. I don’t want you ever hiding yourself from me, Francesca.” The brass rings holding the curtains rattled as he drew the red material about the bed, shielding her from his sight.

Francesca undressed slowly, placing her garments neatly upon the other chair and leaving on her chemise. She had no hairbrush to skim through her hair, and debated undoing her tresses. She reached up, pulling the pins from her hair and unfastening the elegant chignon Terza had styled earlier. She would use her fingers to comb her hair, and braid it come the morning. She had not put a lot of thought into spending a few days away from the castle, smiling at herself for always expecting that everything she needed would be available to her. Even Alonza had supplied her with what she needed when she had spent time at the inn. I am obviously very spoiled, Francesca thought to herself with a little smile.

“Wife! I am waiting for you,” Rafaello’s voice called to her.

“I waited for you last night,” Francesca heard herself say sharply, and heard him laugh. “A woman needs time to prepare herself.”

The curtains on one side of the bed were pulled back. “Get into bed,” he told her.

“Is this how you speak to a maid?” she demanded of him, realizing that she was suddenly very nervous. This was not the wedding night she had envisioned. Actually did any maiden really think of her wedding night except with trepidation? Rafaello Cesare, duke of Terreno Boscoso, was her husband, but the truth was she barely knew him but for a brief time they had spent together almost a year ago. Now he expected her to get into bed with him and give his family babies as quickly as possible.

He saw the look on her face. It was not fear but rather nervous consternation. Of course! What in the holy name of Jesu was he thinking? This was not some woman of experience.

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