He just nodded and took the rag from her, wiping up the table while Anna finished putting away the dishes she’d washed. To her, the moment was resoundingly domestic and somehow right for them. He wasn’t pretentious with her, wasn’t always the earl. Sometimes, like now, he was just Gayle Windham, a thoroughly, completely lovable and worthy man.
He waited until Anna had finished tidying up, took a candle from the table, and held out his arm to her. The gesture was courtly and oddly reminiscent of Anna’s grandparents. Oh, to grow old with him… Anna thought, wrapping her hand around his forearm.
When they gained his room, the sense of domestic peace came with them. Anna finished undressing him; he tucked her into his bed then set about using the wash water kept in ample supply by his hearth. The balcony doors were open, and a refreshing breeze wafted through the room. She watched his ablutions, finding him simply beautiful in the light of the single candle. It wasn’t even an erotic appreciation but something more possessive than that. He was beautifully built, of course, but the pensive expression on his face was beautiful to her, too.
He is the way he is because he cares, and maybe in this, he and his father can finally find some common ground.
When he wrung out the wet cloth and straightened, Anna flipped back the lavender-scented sheets. “Come to bed.”
“Your night rail, madam?” He held out a hand. “It is too hot for all that extra, Anna, and I promise I will not bother you.”
“So you’ve said,” she replied, pulling the nightgown over her head and handing it to him. “Did you lock the door?”
“Ye gods.” He padded through the dark and took care of the lock, blew out the candle, then climbed in beside her.
“I cannot remember the last time I spent the night with anyone other than a cat in my bed, save for our night at Willow Bend.” Anna settled on the mattress as she spoke.
“I could say the same thing.” The earl punched his pillow. “It would have different significance. Sorry.” He was apologizing for yanking inadvertently on her pillow, but Anna let the apology cover his teasing, as well.
Anna folded her hands on her stomach as they both stretched out on their backs. “What awaits you tomorrow?”
“I’ll meet with His Grace,” the earl said. “Deliver Stenson his orders, probably call on Maggie, and try to toss enough work at Tolliver so we don’t get behind.”
Anna reached for his hand, prying it off his own stomach and lacing her fingers through it. “You should send a note around first thing to your brothers and go for your regular ride.”
“Instead of seeing if my father is still alive?” The earl’s frown was evident even in the darkness, but Anna was more aware that his fingers were closed around hers tightly.
“If he passes in the night you will receive word immediately. Lord Val will see to it. You enjoy your rides tremendously,” she went on. “Some days, I think it’s the only time you permit yourself to do what you please and not what you ought. And Pericles will not be around forever.”
“Using my horse’s welfare, Anna?”
“And your brothers need to see that though the duke may be failing, the earl is not; nor is the earl spending every waking minute in anticipation of his father’s demise. The earl is too sturdy to capitulate to anxiety like that and too well inured to his responsibilities. Death befalls us, and while it is sad, the duke has lived a very long and good life. Though he will be mourned, his passing will be in the natural order of things, as will the earl’s, when the time comes.”
He sighed and considered her point.
I love you, he thought, because you are honest with me and because you are willing to speak the truth to me when others might seek to curry favor instead. I love you because you are in this bed with me, not trying to conceive the much-awaited next generation of Windhams, but just holding my hand.
“I’ll go riding.”
“Good.” Anna rolled toward him, and in the dark he felt her moving on the mattress. She kissed his forehead and sighed. “Now go to sleep, Gayle Tristan Montmorency Windham. I will be here when you waken. I promise.”
She wrestled him then into the position she deemed best suited to his slumbers, leaving him lying in her arms, his face resting against her shoulder. She stroked his back in the same easy rhythm he often gave her, and Anna soon heard his breathing even out.
I will be here when you waken, she thought, but for how much longer, I do not know.
The investigator sent north had precipitated the need the leave, and now, when the duke lay so ill, any temptation to confide in the earl was put to rest. He needed to be looking to his own and not to the troubles brought to him by his housekeeper.
Anna wrapped her arms around the future Duke of Moreland and sent up a heartfelt prayer for his happiness and her own safety.
The days and nights that followed saw shifts in the routine of the earl’s household. His morning ride with his brothers, a casual habit earlier, became standard. Stenson’s departure brought a sense of relief to everyone, and Sterling, a quiet older gentleman recommended by no less than the Duke of Quimbey, brought order among the footmen.
And the nights…
The earl rose each morning, well rested and ready to face the day, because Anna shared his bed. The need for her hovered in regions Westhaven could not articulate. There was desire in it, but not enough that he initiated any seduction. The simple comfort of her presence was far more precious than any fleeting pleasure might be.
And he had the sense Anna was granting him the boon of her nightly company only because she was more determined than ever to go, and go soon. His Grace had enjoyed four days of continued freedom from chest pains, and the ducal household was beginning to admit to some cautious relief.
Watching Anna sleep, Westhaven frowned as he realized that when the duke was deemed safe from immediate danger, then Anna would likely go.
He would not allow that. Could not. Mentally, he kicked himself for not making the time to meet with Hazlit earlier in the week. He’d meet with him today, he vowed, if he had to pursue the man on foot through Seven Dials to see it done.
“You’re awake.” Anna smiled at him, and he smiled back. Such a simple thing, to start the day with a shared smile. He leaned over and kissed her.
“No fair.” Anna shoved the sheets aside. “You’ve used the tooth powder already.” She heaved off the bed, shrugged into her wrapper, and made for the privacy screen in the corner.
She was not too fussy, his Anna. She emerged and made use of his tooth powder and toothbrush, then caught sight of herself in the dressing mirror.
“I look like I was dragged through the proverbial hedge backward. How can you not be overcome with laughter at my appearance?” In the mirror, he assessed her reflection: Her braid was coming un-raveled and she had a wrinkle across her cheek from the pillow seam.
“You look very dear. Come back to bed.”
“It is almost light out, your lordship.” Anna eyed him balefully. “I am surprised you slept this late.”
“Dev has to take his horses back to Surrey today, and Val made for a late night at Fairly’s piano. No morning ride for poor Pericles, I’m afraid. Come back to bed, Anna.”
There was something… implacable in his voice, and in the gray shadows of the room, Anna felt as if she were suddenly facing a life-defining moment. She could get in that bed, and this time—this time, finally—they would make love. She knew it as surely as a woman knows the scent of her lover, as surely as a mother knows the cry of her child.