Long after he'd undressed, long after the candles had been snuffed, he still remembered her wide-eyed look when he'd shocked her with his unwanted kiss. His own thoughtlessness rankled him.
He vowed to better control himself in the future.
Chapter 12
"Madame, what has happened to make you look so happy?" Therese asked when Emma floated into the chamber, a dreamy smile upon her face.
Emma lowered herself before the dressing table. She could not very well tell her maid she was happy because her husband had just kissed her. She wanted the servants to believe theirs was a normal marriage. "This was the most wonderful night I've ever spent."
"And I believe madame was greatly admired, no?" Therese began to remove the diamond pins from Emma's hair.
Emma shyly nodded. "I hate to take off my dress. I've felt like a . . . princess all night."
"You look like a princess." Therese began to brush out her mistress's hair. "Ah, but you have so many other lovely gowns your must look forward to wearing. You will be more beautiful than all of them."
When Therese finished brushing her hair, Emma stood and allowed her maid to assist her in undressing, then dressing for bed.
After Therese left, carefully carrying away the lavender gown, Emma climbed atop her bed, still smiling and still whirling from the night's exhilaration. But most of all from Adam's kiss. It had been the most pleasurable thing she'd ever experienced—hyperbole notwithstanding. She'd been completely unprepared for Adam's kiss and, therefore, shocked. She prayed her stiff reaction hadn't repulsed him for she very much wanted to be given another chance to kiss him.
The notion of him kissing her had to demonstrate his growing affection for her, did it not? It had certainly been the perfect climax to a perfect night. (She really did speak and think in hyperbole. Would that it would always be warranted.)
She wished she knew him better, knew better how to gauge him. It had been impossible for her to understand his reaction to their kiss. She thought perhaps—even though he was hard to read— he might have regretted it. On the other hand, right after the kiss, he had told her she was beautiful.
She should have responded more favorably, should have been a better participant. She was so woefully inexperienced she didn't know what one did during a kiss. One thing she knew for certain: she wanted him to kiss her again. Hopefully, next time her response would be more to his liking.
* * *
"Where are you going?" her husband asked the following morning as Emma began to climb her uncle's stairs to the upper floors.
She turned around and met his gaze, a solemn look on her face. "I wanted to see what was supposed to have been my chamber."
His demeanor softened. "I'll come with you."
Her eyes brightened, and her mouth lifted into a grin. "You're afraid I'll turn into a watering pot."
"I most sincerely hope you do not." He came and offered his arm for support. "I suppose we should also look at your uncle's bedchamber. We might find something helpful there."
"Seeing his chamber will make me sad."
He covered her hand with his and nodded grimly.
"Leave that to me."
"No. I need to go."
On the second floor, he opened the first door. "This must be your uncle's bedchamber." He strode across the dark room and drew open the draperies.
Uncle Simon's bedchamber was austere for a man wealthy enough to live on Curzon Street. There were no fine fabrics or hand-painted papers on the walls, which were painted in a royal blue that matched his bed coverings. From beneath a gold cornice hung draperies of the same blue with a gold diamond pattern.
The chimneypiece of fine cream-coloured marble held a wooden case clock resting on four gilded feet. It was the room's only ornament.
Obviously her uncle used this chamber only for its intended purpose. She was surprised there was no writing desk. That must mean he did all of his writing in the library.
"I doubt there are any clues here," Adam said.
She shook her head sadly. "Nothing to reveal anything about him as a man."
He came to settle an arm about her. "His last letter to you revealed what manner of man he was. Noble."
Adam's words were comforting.
The room next to Uncle Simon's was to have been hers. She drew open the draperies, and the pale yellow chamber was bathed in light. That the gilded, high tester bed looked as if it had recently been purchased touched her deeply. Had she never seen Adam's house, she would have thought this the loveliest bed imaginable. The walls of canary yellow were recently painted. If she inhaled deeply, she could still smell the paint.