Sixpence Bride by Virginia Farmer

Author:Virginia Farmer [Farmer, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Man-Woman Relationships, England, Contemporary, General, Romance, Fantasy, Historical, England - Social Life and Customs - 18th Century, Fiction, Time Travel, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780505523853
Google: Z6LhwPhfjVwC
Amazon: 050552385X
Publisher: Love Spell
Published: 2000-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Garren climbed the stairs to his room, humming under his breath. Yes, he looked forward to the evening before him. For now, though, he needed a bath.

As he passed by the open door to Jocelyn's room, he heard the splash of water. Stopping, he pushed back the door and found Spalding overseeing the filling of his bath tub.

"Spalding, what goes on here?" Garren stared at the large basin, surprised. "Why is my tub here? It should be in the master's room."

Spalding turned from placing several towels on a small table and met Garren's gaze. "It was moved in here upon your departure, milord. I didn't think you would object. If you would prefer, I'll have it moved back."

"No." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Garren stepped farther into the room. "It's fine here." The faint scent of jasmine permeated the room. As he inhaled the delicate fragrance, one he now associated with Jocelyn after smelling it on her in the library, Garren's gaze fell on the bath. Did the tub retain the warmth of her body? He moved to it, running his hand along its high back, searching for some sensuous warmth. Just the thought of his body sharing the same space as hers heated his blood and brought a heaviness to his loins.

"Very good, milord." Spalding moved around Garren. "I'll see that your robe is brought from your room."

The butler's words reached Garren, but his thoughts weren't on his clothing. No, they were on his wife— and her clothes were not involved.

The butler closed the door quietly. The click of the latch dissolved Garren's fevered imagining.

Shaking his head, he chuckled. As a young boy, he had never understood why his grandfather had commissioned such a large tub. As a man full grown, he now appreciated his relative's foresight. With a smile, he recalled the muffled laughter and splashing that had come from the master's room when his mother's father had been alive. As a child, he'd always wondered what was going on. Now, he had some idea.

Stripping off his dirty clothing, Garren slid into the tub. Steam rose from the water, surrounding him as he rested his head on the metal rim. His eyes closed and images of his wife played beneath his lids.

He saw her again— plump, dirty, unkempt and ferocious in Ramsgil. Then he saw her as Lady Pebbles, the first lady of fashion, slim and alluring. Yet, today when he'd returned, she had been shy and nervous, too. Her eyes were the windows to her emotions, flashing in anger, sparkling with laughter, and shimmering with intelligence. And beneath all those emotions lay an enticing innocence, and that he pondered. In buying a bride, this was not what he had expected.

Opening his eyes, he straightened in the tub. She was a woman, married twice now, and therefore experienced in the ways of men. But he saw no hint of that experience. He had not asked why Haslett had sold her. He couldn't see himself asking her now, though he wondered more than ever.

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