"You are very quiet,” Rhys said. “Are you still troubled?"
Emme sighed. She hated the stilted silence that had settled between them. She wasn't ready to share the truth with him, though. Seeking peace, she said, “I haven't been quiet. I've been a miserable hateful wretch all day. It isn't you. I've simply been imagining what my parents will have to say about all of this, our hasty wedding, the rumors that have undoubtedly preceded our arrival, and what will happen when we go into society. Our peers are not known for their kindness."
That was certainly part of it. He didn't doubt that those things plagued her, but he knew there was more.
Electing not to press, he replied, “You cannot stop their gossiping, Emme. But I assure you that it will all die away on its own. It always does."
He didn't really understand. He'd been whispered about after Elise's death, but most of his life, he'd been normal. He'd been a paragon amidst the rabble. But that wasn't something he could change, so she smiled at him, “You're right, of course."
Society didn't really matter in the overall scheme of things. She would be perfectly content to return to Briarwood and never leave it again. It was her family that caused her the most anxiety, and until he met them for himself, until he felt their glaring disapproval of her, he wouldn't understand.
They lapsed into silence again as the carriage rolled into Mayfair. When it turned onto Brook Street Emme couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. She wanted nothing more than to stand up, stretch her legs, and never again place her bottom on the bench of a moving vehicle. By the time the carriage stopped, Emme was leaning forward, gripping the edge of the seat. Rhys stood and opened the carriage door, as eager as she to be out of the conveyance, and hopped down to the cobbled sidewalk. He lowered the steps and then helped her down. Her entire body was stiff and she ached from head to toe.
As they entered the house, Rhys took charge. He escorted her up the steps and made short work of presenting the staff to her. He then immediately ordered a hot bath brought to their chambers and a cold supper.
Emme's impressions of the house were fleeting. It was beautiful and opulent, with decadent frescoes on the ceilings, all of which were beautifully gilded. The floors were marble, as were the stairs, and there was intricately carved woodwork throughout the house. As he ushered her quickly up the stairs to their chambers, there was little time to take in anything more.
Rhys took the steps two at a time, and she was all but running to keep up with him as he pulled her behind him. Once inside their suite, he let go and she leaned against the doorframe, gasping for breath as she surveyed their surroundings. Their chambers were on the third floor of the townhouse. There was a small sitting room and a bathing chamber. The bathing chamber had a large marble tub with a drain that allowed the water to run out and into the sewers. The tub was decadent, and she'd never seen anything quite like it.
Emme immediately noticed that her things were not in the second bedroom, but had been placed in the larger, more deliberately masculine room. Before she could ask, Rhys supplied the answer, “I know it's unusual for a man and wife to share a chamber, but even an unlocked door between us is more than I would like."
He said it matter-of-factly and Emme knew that he was not speaking of love. It was his desire for her that had prompted the request, but it made her stomach flutter nonetheless and it left her weak and breathless. A knock on the door interrupted further analysis of the matter. A servant entered carrying a plate of cold meats, cheeses and fruits. There was also a bottle of wine. A table was laid in the sitting room, and while they ate, the tub was filled with steaming water. After they had finished eating Rhys disappeared into the bedchamber and Gussy helped Emme into the tub. Gussy had just finished rinsing her hair, when Rhys reentered the room wearing only his shirt and breeches.
Emme gasped, and sunk further into the water, but it did little to conceal her glorious flesh, slick with the water from her bath. With a simple gesture, Rhys dismissed Gussy. When she had left the room, he removed his shirt and breeches and stepped into the tub.
"What are you doing?” Emme demanded.
"I'm sharing your bath,” he said. He sluiced water over his hair and soaped it quickly, “Now, help me rinse this."
Emme reached for the pitcher of warm water, still trying to keep her body concealed beneath the water. After his hair rinsed clear, he leaned back against the tub, his knees resting on either side of hers. He could feel the press of her delicate, little toes beneath his thighs. He smiled, and lifted one of her feet. He gently massaged and kneaded until it was all she could do to keep from sliding into the water. She'd given up keeping herself covered and he could see the perfect globes of her breasts and her pebbled, pink nipples rising above the water. He started on her other foot, and when he placed his mouth against the arch of her foot, and his teeth scraped that tender flesh, she nearly came out of the water. He laughed, and then pulled her forward until she was straddling his hips. Water sloshed over the side of the tub.