Page 157 of Kathryn

God! She was such a fool.

She heard a footstep behind her and dashed away her tears. “You can go to bed, Becky. I will wash my own hair and see to—”

“It is not Becky.”

Katie jolted, sending water sloshing, and twisted while sinking lower in the water.

Dulverton stood in the doorway in his shirtsleeves and buckskins, his coats and cravat gone, a large V of muscular chest exposed. In one hand he held the short stool Becky used when she washed Katie’s hair. He set it down near the head of the tub and then lowered himself onto it, looking huge on the tiny stool.

He glared as he reached out and lightly touched her cheek. “This is swollen. You should have a beefsteak on it.”

“That is what Bec—er, Stone said. But I do not want to hold meat on my face.”

“Hmm.” He looked as if he wanted to argue but dropped his hand and proceeded to roll up his sleeves, which she saw had already been freed of cufflinks. Once he’d exposed his thick, muscular forearms he reached for the bar of soap. “I will wash your hair.”

“But—” She broke off.

“But?”

“I thought you were angry with me?”

“I am no longer angry.”

“You said it would take time!”

He shrugged. “Time has now passed.”

Katie gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “I thought you meant months or maybe even years.”

“I have already wasted enough of our marriage being a stubborn fool. I am not about to waste another minute.” He hiked an eyebrow. “Why? Did you wish me to be angry longer?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“Good. Now, dip your head—”

“I don’t use that soap for my hair. There is a bottle over there”—she pointed to the collection of glass stoppered crystal. “The tallest one.”

He replaced the soap and fetched the decanter, setting it on the marble floor before moving the footstool behind her head until she could no longer see him.

She heard some clinking and a sniff.

“Mmm, this is why your hair smells so good. What is it?”

“Chamomile and some other herbs. Stone makes it for me.”

“Dip your hair in the tub.” One of his palms settled on top of her head. He did not push hard, but she slipped under fast and came up sputtering. A fistful of toweling appeared in front of her.

She snatched it from him and wiped off her face. “A little warning would have been nice.”

He made a sound that might have been a chuckle and began to massage her scalp with strong fingers.

Katie closed her eyes and reveled in his firm, caressing touch, speedily forgiving him for almost drowning her. He slowly moved from her head to her neck. Katie bit back the first few moans of pleasure but stopped caring when his strong fingers began to knead her aching shoulders.

Katie must have dozed because she startled when his hands disappeared. “That was nice,” she said sleepily, yawning hugely.

“I am about to rinse; so there is your warning.”

She closed her eyes and mouth just as warm water streamed over her head.