Because they had all come up at the same time, it would have been awkward for Adam to hold back until his wife got dressed for bed. When they entered the chamber, he dismissed Therese.
When she was gone, he said, “I will turn my back while you prepare for bed.” He then turned around and faced the door they had just entered.
As Emma removed her stockings, she kept telling herself he wasn’t going to see her bare legs or her bare anything, but she was still embarrassed to be disrobing just feet away from a man. Even if that man was her husband.
It was also beastly cold.
Her heart thumped erratically and a chill surged through her like icy water when her dress and shift sifted to the floor and she stood there in only her stays and drawers. She attempted to unlace the stays in the back, but it was impossible. What was she to do?
She could ask Adam to help. It wasn’t as if he had never done such a thing before. She would wager that her husband had frequently taken off Maria’s garments. The thought of Adam removing her own clothing made Emma’s breath ragged.
Until Maria intruded on her thoughts. How she detested the woman!
She fiddled with the same night shift she’d worn the previous night. She was trying to summon the courage to ask for Adam’s help.
“What the devil is taking you so long?”
She cleared her throat. “I have a problem.”
“Oh, God. It’s your stays.”
“Yes.”
Now he cleared his throat. “I can help. You mustn’t be embarrassed. I’ll stay behind you. I won’t look at your . . .” He stopped himself. “I’ll just stay behind and unlace you.”
“I trust you.”
He turned.
Their gazes met. His gaze dropped to skim over her.
She coloured. In a good way. As embarrassed as she was, she felt womanly, and that was most certainly to be desired.
He jerked his gaze away. “Well, if you’ll just turn around, I shall get about my business.”
She presented her back to him, and he moved to her. As the laces began to loosen, it suddenly occurred to her that when it released her breasts, they would be completely exposed.
If he were in front of her.
She began to tremble.
The stays lowered. Her breasts sprung free. She swallowed.
“There now.” He spoke as if he’d just fed his dog.
How could he be so casual when she felt as if she would explode with all these strange-but-wonderful feelings that threatened to overpower her?
Her hands trembling, face flaming, she quickly disrobed, snatched her night rail and shimmied into it. "You can turn around now."
He slowly turned. His gaze flicked to her, then he diverted his attentions to the other side of the bed from her. He sat on the bed, his back to her as he began to remove his boots.
"Do men not wear night shirts?" she asked.
One boot thumped to the wooden floor. He turned to face her. "Some do. My mother made all of us when we were lads, but as we grew older . . . well, I suppose men tend to get hot when they're beneath blankets. We don't wear . . . much."
"Like last night? I noticed you only slept in your breeches. No shirt. I would have been cold."
"The breeches were for your benefit."
"I don't un-," she stopped, her eyes widening. "Do you mean . . . ?"
"This subject is not fit for a maiden's ears."
She wanted to cry out that she was a wife, a married woman, but she was too timid. She slipped beneath the covers.
Moments later, he did the same, dousing the candle as he did so. "I shall sleep like the dead tonight."
"It was very difficult to keep one's eyes open throughout the coach ride today," she said. "It seemed that every churn of the wheel was contriving to make me sleepy."
"I felt the same. I will have no problem sleeping tonight."
"I believe I should like to have a good-night kiss from you."
He groaned. "Absolutely not."
His words could have shattered her, but there was a lightness in his tone that surprised her. "Then you don't wish to be my best friend."
"Best friends don't kiss."
"Then what about wives?"
"It's not as if you're actually . . ."
"Your wife." She pouted. "I promise I will endeavor to learn to be a good kisser. I know I was mammothly disappointing that first time."
"I don't wish to discuss kissing. I want to sleep."
His words wounded. She wouldn't even say good-night to him if he was going to be such an ogre.