Page 66 of To Wed a Wild Scot
Emilia blew out a relieved breath. “Thank goodness. Shall I help you undress, or send for one of the maids?”
“No, no maid.” Juliana was already nervous enough. The last thing she needed was a maid hovering about. “If you could just unfasten the row of buttons down my back and unlace me, I’m sure I can manage from there.”
Emilia obliged, then took Juliana by the shoulders and turned her around so they were facing each other. “The wedding gown suits you. I knew I’d made the right decision persuading you to wear it. You looked beautiful this evening, Juliana. Logan thought so, too. I could see it in his face when he looked at you.”
Juliana drew in a shaky breath, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Emilia’s cheek. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Emilia. You can’t know how much I…I never hoped to have another friend as dear to me as my late sister-in-law was, yet here you are.”
Emilia’s pretty blue eyes shone. “We’re sisters now, or nearly so. It’s all going to come right between you and Logan, Juliana. I know it is.” Emilia squeezed her hands once last time, and then she was gone.
The room felt empty and quiet after she left.
Juliana turned in a circle, unsure what to do.
What did a bride do on her wedding night, while she waited alone in her new husband’s bedchamber for him to join her? She didn’t have an answer, so she wandered about aimlessly for a bit, until she found herself back at the dressing table.
The night rail—yes, she’d change into that. Logan could walk in at any moment, and she’d just as soon be prepared when he arrived. She stepped carefully out of her wedding gown and petticoat, slipped out of her corset, then paused, unsure what to do next.
Was she meant to wear her chemise under the night rail? It seemed silly, given that Logan would remove whatever she was wearing. Unless…wouldhe remove it? Or was the thing meant to be done quickly, without removing one’s clothing?
She didn’t know! It was too late to ask Emilia now, so she’d simply have to do what she thought best, and hope it was the right thing.
She dragged her chemise over her head and hurried into the night rail, but when she caught sight of herself in the dressing table mirror, she gasped. Dear God, she could see right through it! It was so thin and sheer she could see the curves of her breasts, the darker pink of her nipples, and even the shadow between her…
Juliana snatched up the matching dressing gown. She tugged it on, wrapped it tightly around her body and studied herself in the mirror. It was a bit better, but the dressing gown was as sheer as the night rail. It didn’t hide her curves so much as reveal glimpses of them, half-hidden under two entirely insufficient layers of fabric.
Very well, then. She’d wait for Logan in the bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin. Climbing boldly into his bed made her nearly as anxious as the night rail did, but it was better than standing nearly stark naked in the middle of his bedchamber.
She rushed to the dressing table and snatched the pins from her hair, then hurried through an arched doorway, hoping to find the bed on the other side of it.
She found it, and the sight of it brought her to an abrupt halt.
It was enormous.
Juliana stared at it in dismay. Four massive posts rose from each corner. They were so tall they nearly met the ceiling, and sumptuous dark green silk hung from a heavy, carved wood canopy. It was gigantic, imposing, aggressively masculine, and so high she’d need a step stool to get into it.
Either that, or a running start.
She was still staring at the bed, biting her lip and debating whether or not she should drag the dressing table chair over when she heard the outer door open behind her.
“Juliana?”
Logan’s deep voice sent a shiver up her spine. “I’m in here,” she called, then cringed at the telltale squeak in her voice.
She heard some rustling from the other side of the door, then Logan’s footsteps drawing closer. “Are you—” he began, but then trailed off with a rough breath.
Juliana turned to find him standing in the doorway. He’d already removed the tartan cape, his jacket and his cravat. That alone would have been enough to disconcert her, but it was the look on his face that made her eyes go wide.
He was staring at her, naked heat in his blue gaze. He’d looked at her with desire before, but this…
Juliana swallowed. He looked as if he wanted to drag her to the bed and devour her as if she were a dish of cranachan. Why was he—
Oh, no. He could see the outline of her body through the dratted night rail! The candlelight behind her was shining through the fragile muslin, revealing every curve and hollow.
Scalding heat washed over her cheeks and neck. She snatched at the edges of the dressing gown to wrap it more tightly around her, but Logan’s husky voice stopped her.
“Don’t.”
She froze, her fingers twisted in the sheer fabric.
