Part 9 (1/2)
Finally she gave up on worming any information out of Anthony and bade him good-night. Back in her own room, she found Benedict asleep, and this time he did not leap to his feet, gun in hand. Camilla crawled into bed, expecting another bout with insomnia, but, to her surprise, she fell deeply and almost instantly asleep.
She did not awaken until the next morning-when Benedict jumped into bed beside her.
Chapter 7.
His leap was a smooth dive over Camilla's sleeping form and onto the bed beside her. He barely grazed her, but the movement brought her instantly awake.
”What-” she began furiously, but Benedict wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her to his chest, cutting off her words.
”Hus.h.!.+” he whispered against her ear. ”The maid.”
At that instant it registered on Camilla that she could hear a gentle rapping at the door, and now the door creaked as it eased open. Camilla lay still in Benedict's arms, her eyes tightly closed, as Millie tiptoed into the room and set a tray down on the small table beside the bed. Camilla tried to make her breathing slow and shallow, as if she were asleep, even though every nerve in her body was alive and tingling. She was acutely aware of Benedict's bare chest against her face, the curling hairs tickling her skin. She had never seen a man's bare chest before last night, let alone felt it pressed against her. His arms were like iron around her, holding her tightly, lest she make a movement that would give them away. His male scent filled her nostrils; his heat seeped into her body.
”Miss Camilla. Uh, Mrs. La.s.siter,” Millie stage-whispered. When Camilla did not respond, the maid leaned closer to the bed. ”Missus, please, wake up.”
Benedict opened his eyes, his arms loosening around Camilla. Camilla took this as her cue to stir and ”awaken,” also.
”What the devil do you want?” Benedict asked the maid gruffly.
”I'm sorry, sir.” Millie looked pitifully abject. ”Truly I am. It's just that the Earl is up, sir, and he's asking to see you. He's very eager to see you and Miss Camilla. I mean, the missus.”
”Oh.” Camilla understood now why the maid had had the audacity to awaken them. She knew her grandfather, and his orders brooked no argument. ”Grandpapa ordered you to wake us up and bring us to his room.”
”Yes'm.” Relief flooded the girl's plain face at Camilla's ready understanding. ”That's it. I brought you tea and toast.”
Camilla nodded. ”It's all right, Millie. We aren't angry with you.”
”We aren't?” Benedict asked sourly.
Camilla wanted to shoot him a look that was just as sour, but instead, she smiled at him with great sweetness, saying, ”Now, dearest, I told you how my grandfather is. Millie isn't to blame. I am sure he commanded her to awaken us.”
To her surprise, Benedict smiled back at her, his dark eyes alight with affection. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. ”Of course, my love. Your smile can sweeten even my sour disposition. Forgive me.”
”Of course.” She tried to act as if she were used to that loving look in his eyes, to his warm, firm lips touching hers. She drew a steadying breath.
”Shall I iron out a dress for you, ma'am?” Millie asked now, going to the dressing room. ”I only hung them up last night. I haven't pressed them yet”
”Yes. Uh, the sprig muslin would be fine.”
Millie bobbed a quick curtsy and disappeared into the large dressing room. She emerged a moment later with the dress in question and left the room, promising to be back ”quick as a wink.”
When the door closed behind her, Camilla sagged with relief. ”Sweet heaven! How did you know she was about to come in?”
”I am a light sleeper. I heard her rattling about with the tray out in the hall, setting it down so she could knock on the door, and I realized what she was about Sorry if I startled you.”
He sat up, pus.h.i.+ng aside the cover. Camilla realized that he was lying on top of her bedcovers. He had brought the blanket with him as he leaped over her onto the bed, spreading it hastily over them. She glanced at the bed beside her and saw that he had brought his pillow, too. A very efficient man, even in an emergency.
”Is your grandfather so fearsome, then, that everyone jumps at his command?” he asked, searching the drawers for his clothes, which the maid had unpacked the evening before. ”Even waking us up and dragging us out of bed?”
”He can be something of a tartar. He's used to getting his way, you see. He a.s.sumed the Earldom when he was only twenty-two. That was nearly sixty years ago, so it is almost as if he has been in command his whole life. Besides, he comes from a more autocratic time. He's rather old-fas.h.i.+oned in his ways.”
”I see. Then I suppose we had best not keep the old fellow waiting, had we?”
He pulled on a clean white s.h.i.+rt and b.u.t.toned it up. Then he began to unb.u.t.ton his breeches, and Camilla realized that he intended to strip them off and put on fresh ones right there in front of her. With a gasp, she scrambled off the bed and into the sanctuary of the dressing room. While she was there, she pulled off her nightgown and put on her chemise and the single petticoat that she could wear with the modern slim-lined skirts that were fas.h.i.+onable nowadays.
Millie found her in the dressing room when she returned with Camilla's dress, and if she found it odd that Camilla was whiling away her time there, she was in too much of a hurry to say anything about it.
When she emerged from the dressing room, Camilla found Benedict fully dressed, even his cravat tied to perfection. He was waiting for her, lounging on the couch on which he had pa.s.sed the night, looking both bored and aristocratic. He looked so much the picture of the refined, faintly contemptuous gentleman that so many young men of fas.h.i.+on strove to attain that Camilla had to smother a smile.
He rose when she entered the room and swept her a bow. ”How lovely you look, my dear-as always.”
Even though she knew that the compliment was only another part of the image he was trying to create, Camilla could not restrain the flush of pleasure that rose in her. It was always nice to hear a compliment, she reasoned. It had nothing to do with the fact that Benedict was the one who had given the compliment to her.
She sat down in front of the vanity, and Millie quickly brushed through her hair and twisted it up into a simple Grecian knot atop her head, finger-curling a few strands of hair around Camilla's face into soft dangling curls. With that, she was ready, and they set forth down the wide hallway to the Earl's bedroom, her hand formally on Benedict's arm.
With each step, the bundle of nerves in Camilla's stomach grew larger and tighter. She hated the thought of lying to her grandfather, even if it was to make him happier. She wished that she had never blurted out the stupid fib in the first place.
They stopped in front of the door to his bedroom, and Benedict looked down at her. ”Nervous?”
She nodded. To her surprise, he laid his hand over hers, where it rested in the crook of his arm. It was a comforting gesture, and the last thing she would have expected from this man.
”Don't be,” he told her in a low voice. ”I'll be there to help you out. And, remember, don't explain too much. Real life is full of contradictions and mistakes. Only lies are perfect and smooth.”
She nodded her understanding and gave him a small smile. He rapped lightly at the door.
A moment later, the door creaked open to reveal a stooped man who looked older than time. He was bald except for a fringe of white hair that ran around his head level with his ears, and his skin was a network of lines. But his eyes were bright with intelligence, and when he saw Camilla, he broke into a wide smile.
”Miss Camilla! I should say, Mrs. La.s.siter. Come in, come in,” he said in a loud voice, and stepped back, holding the door open for them. ”You are a sight for sore eyes. His Lords.h.i.+p will be so happy to see you.”
”h.e.l.lo, Jenkins.” Camilla beamed back at the man, raising her voice, as well. ”It's good to see you. You are looking quite well.”
”Thank you, ma'am. It is kind of you to say so. My arthritis has been acting up a bit, but not enough to complain.” He then proceeded to complain about it all the way across the floor to the large testered bed beside the window. Since his steps were slow and shuffling and the room was large, they were privileged to hear a rather lengthy description of the condition of his various joints.
An old man sat up in the huge bed, a dark green velvet cover across his lap. Despite being in bed, he was dressed in a snowy white s.h.i.+rt, with a starched cravat tied beneath his chin and a heavy green satin dressing gown embroidered with Chinese dragons over the s.h.i.+rt. His hair, unlike that of his old valet, was a thick shock of white, worn longer than was now fas.h.i.+onable and clubbed back into an old-style queue. He was freshly shaven, and his skin was ruddy. He had blue eyes, paler than his granddaughter's, and though they were hooded with age, their gaze was sharp. There was a distinct downward turn to one side of his mouth, and when he spoke or smiled, that side of his face did not move as much as the other, a sign, Benedict a.s.sumed, of the man's earlier apoplectic fit.
”My lord,” Jenkins announced in stentorian tones, ”here's Miss Camilla to see you.”
”Yes, I can see that, you old fool,” the Earl grumbled. ”Stop shouting. I'm not deaf.”
”Very good, my lord.” The valet seemed not to mind the other man's stricture. Indeed, Benedict wondered if the old fellow had even heard it The Earl waved at the servant in dismissal, and Jenkins began his slow, shuffling way back to a chair in the opposite corner of the room. The Earl held out his hand toward Camilla, and she quickly went around to the side of the bed and took it, leaning forward across the mattress to kiss his cheek.
”How are you, Grandpapa? Still growling at everyone, I see.”
He made a ”humph” noise but held on to her hand, motioning for her to sit on the bed beside him. ”Better than I can convince any of these fools of, I'll tell you that. Of course I growl at them, otherwise they'd all be convinced I have one foot in the grave.”
”You? Never!”