But now she was suffering the consequences for that.
Thankfully she was used to readying herself alone, and she was able to slip the larger buttons through their holes without his help. While he had been of assistance last night to undress her, a look at his sizeable hands, still swollen from his fight, had her wondering whether or not he would be of any help this morning.
“Val?”
Rebecca froze in the midst of her dressing, her eyes meeting Valentine’s, and he jumped to his feet, though when he did he was fully naked once more. And, she noticed, erect.
He followed her gaze and then shrugged with a smirk, and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Seriously?” she hissed. His sister called his name again from out in the hall in search of him, and then Rebecca heard her father.
“Miss St. Vincent, good morning.” His voice carried through the door. At least he knew who Jemima was this morning. Sometimes he didn’t, though Rebecca always managed to cover his forgetfulness. “Have you seen my daughter yet?”
“I haven’t,” she replied, her voice still far down the hall but coming closer. “She must have slept late.”
“May I escort you down the hall to breakfast?”
“That would be lovely.”
“Jemima!” Oh, goodness, it was Mrs. St. Vincent now. Her voice certainly had Valentine moving, as he began to gather all of his clothes in his arms.
“Aren’t you going to put them on?” Rebecca whispered.
“There isn’t time,” he murmured back. “Besides, if I do manage to get them on, I’ll just look as disheveled as you and that certainly won’t help anything.”
“Neither will the two of us being found in here with you completely naked!”
Then she was suddenly reminded of something. “Through the passage!” She crossed the room in a few quick strides, waving him over. “Hurry!”
“Rebecca will likely be awaiting me in the long gallery,” came her father’s voice, just steps away now, and Val sprinted across the room. Rebecca grabbed the shelf, and just as footsteps drew near, the wall turned and they were on the other side.
They looked at one another, utterly relieved, and began to laugh. Rebecca fell in his arms and Valentine kissed the top of her head.
“Now,” he said, after taking her hand and drawing her up the stairs where he pushed open the dressing room door, “what do you say we—”
Rebecca peered around him to see what had brought a halt to his words.
There stood Archie through the door of the dressing room.
“Well,” he said, his blue eyes lighting up and a smile stretching across his face. “Good morning, your grace. Miss Lambert. Now, just where have the two of you been?”
His eyes flicked up and down Val’s naked body, and Rebecca heaved a sigh of relief that, at the very least, her clothes were on, as wrinkled and disheveled as they may be.
“I’ll, ah, I’ll just be going then,” she said, edging around Valentine and then Archie, but Archie took some pity on her and held up a finger.
“Just a moment, Miss Lambert,” he said. “Let me see if there is anyone about.”
Rebecca could have told them that everyone was currently downstairs, but she supposed there could be a servant or two in the corridor. Archie looked outside, then held the door open for her.
“All is clear,” he said, and then nodded at her, though the look of amusement hadn’t left his eyes. “Good day, Miss Lambert.”
“Good day, Archie,” she said, with one final look behind her at Valentine. His eyes, however, were not amused — they were smoldering. And she was well aware why.
The passageway between the long gallery and Valentine’s bedroom was well utilized over the next two weeks. Valentine hadn’t wanted Rebecca to feel obligated to come to him again, but when she appeared in his dressing room the night after their first liaison, he certainly hadn’t been disappointed.
She was everything he could have asked for in a woman. She was a beauty, to be sure, but it was more than that. She cared for others more than she did herself. She certainly looked after her father, who was so scattered it was difficult to imagine how he had come up with such intricate, impressive designs. For it was not only his creativity that impressed Valentine, but also that the modern conveniences and the practicalities he incorporated seemed so innovative. It was hard to reconcile them with the man who often seemed to think he was elsewhere and spent most of his time reminiscing about the past.
In fact, it seemed like a foolish thing to even consider, but the designs reminded him somewhat of… well, of Rebecca. Practical yet with an appreciation for the aesthetic. Striking yet simple. He was about to say as much to her but then thought he would sound like the uncultured man he was, so he let it pass.
But as they gathered around the dining room, where Mr. Lambert and Rebecca had laid out his plans, he was reminded of his thoughts again. While he should have been focused on her father, Valentine couldn’t help that his gaze continued to wander over toward Rebecca, who sat across from him in a deep-green gown that brought out the highlights in her eyes.
Mr. Lambert had just finished explaining how he had tied in the various styles of the house from over the years with his current neoclassical style, and was now reviewing the additional wing he would add to the estate. Rebecca then chimed in, pointing out the innovations her father had added — a shower off of Valentine’s bedchamber, moving some of the servant’s areas so that they would be closer to the rooms they served.
“I love it,” Mrs. St. Vincent said with a wide grin, and Valentine nodded, though he was not quite as thrilled as his mother was. It was masterly, to be sure, but there was no way to pay for any of this without sending the dukedom even deeper into debt. His mother didn’t seem to care, but then, why would she? It was not her responsibility to look after his properties nor his finances.
He scratched his head, trying to find the best way to put into words what he needed to say without Mr. Lambert thinking he was being insulting.
“It is very fine work, Mr. Lambert,” he said. “I am much impressed.”
Rebecca eyed him, raising an eyebrow. He knew her expressions well enough now to know she was asking him what the “but” was.
“I am simply unsure if we need it all to be quite so impressive,” he said. “Such as the additional wing. We don’t even use all of the rooms we currently have.”
Mr. Lambert stood, pushing back his chair, a frown twisting the corners of his lips.
“You said you wanted an extra wing! It was no small feat to design.”
“I understand, Mr. Lambert, and no matter what we do, I will pay you for your time. It is just that—”
“Of all the rudeness. Just what I would expect of an upstart like you!”
Rebecca gasped at her father’s words, and Valentine slowly rose to his feet.
“Mr. Lambert,” he said, breathing slowly as he worked to keep his temper in check, for Rebecca’s sake more than any other reason. “I believe that was uncalled for.”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean that, Father,” Rebecca said, rounding the table to stand between the two men. “We apologize, Val— your grace.”