Chapter 59 - The Morning After

Delaney didn't have a single bad dream that night. In fact, with her head resting on Vincent's chest and his unusually warm skin against her keeping her warm, she had lovely dreams that tended to involve them kissing.

When she woke up she stretched like a cat, feeling the warmth of him against her through her nightdress. The sky was still grey and cloudy but there was no rain now.

Vincent stirred and Delaney lifted her head to look down at him. When he finally opened his eyes and looked up at her, her smile mirrored his.

"Good morning my Lady," he spoke in a husky voice.

"Good morning my Lord," she purred, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Mmmm," he chuckled, "My head has felt better. But having you here with me does help."

Delaney giggled, "It serves you right that your head hurts after all the trouble you made. I, however, like you very much anyway."

She leaned down and kissed him then and it made her whole body tingle and grow warm. He slid his hand along her jaw and pulled her closed, kissing her deeper. She scooted in closer to him, just wanting to touch him more but her silly bandaged hands didn't allow it.

The sound of the door opening behind them brought them out of their dizzying state. Delaney turned, surprised someone would come in without knocking, and saw Ivy walking towards her wash table with a pitcher of steaming water.

The girl put it down with a little smile and turned to face her mistress. Immediately her expression changed to one of horror and she gasped, stepping backward and pressing her hands to her mouth.

"I-I didn't know he was in here," Ivy managed from behind her hands, staring at Vincent.

"I'm sorry," Vincent mumbled and was quick to move, sliding out from beneath Delaney and standing up.

He turned, looking for his robe to cover up with, but what it did was display the full sight of himself to Ivy. The puncture wound scars on his abdomen and under his shoulder. The webs of red, raised, scars spreading out from them as well as the ones branching out above his waistline from the puncture on his leg.

She jumped back a few steps with another sharp gasp. Vincent glanced up at her and became more urgent and panicked in his search for his robe.

Delaney however glared at her maid with poisonous anger. She moved quickly from the bed, unwrapping her hands as she went. As soon as one hand was free she yanked the bandages from the other.

"Vincent stop," she stepped in front of him. He moved to try to walk around her, his arm folded against his chest in an attempt to conceal the worst of the marks. Delaney moved with him though, blocking his way.

"Let me go," he pleaded with her, "I'm scaring the girl."

"No," Delaney frowned at him and put her hands against his chest to stop him, biting her lip against the throbbing pain in them, "She is being ridiculous."

" Please," he tried again, looking desperate and embarrassed, "Just let me go. I hate when I scare people with this."

Delaney felt her heart ache seeing the hurt in his eyes but she didn't move to let him go. Instead, she leaned up and kissed him. At first, he was surprised and didn't react, but then he let her sweep him up in the kiss too, taking her hips in his hands and pulling her to him.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds and Delaney hated to bring it to an end but she dragged herself away. She smiled up at him, seeing him relax now.

Then she turned on Ivy and the smile was gone, replaced with cold sea glass eyes and a scowl.

"I have warned you, Ivy," she snapped, "Lord Adair is not only the Duke of Edgewood and master of this manor but he is my husband. You are a servant! A maid! Your opinion is not needed here and your childish reactions are not welcome."

"Delaney," Vincent whispered behind her, lightly putting his hand on her waist, "You don't..."

"I am tired of your dramatics," she continued coldly, "If you want to be an actress go find work in a theatre house. Either way, you won't be employed here any longer."

The red-headed young woman stood frozen in shock, tears streaming down her face.

"Delaney..."

"Get out!" Delaney barked at her, making the girl jump before rushing from the room.

Following her to the door, Delaney looked out in the hallway and was thankful to find Mrs. Crouch there, overseeing the cleaning up of Vincent's room.

Not caring that she was only in her nightdress or who saw her, Delaney stepped out and the housekeeper saw her right away. Mrs. Crouch waved off the person she was talking to and walked quickly to her mistress.

"My Lady," she looked worried, "Is something wrong?"

"I want that woman out of my house immediately," Delaney ordered, "Pay her a month's wages and have a wagon take her into the village and leave her there. I want her out within the hour."

"Of course my Lady," Mrs. Crouch nodded, seeing her mistresses anger clear on her face, she did not ask for more information, "I'll take care of it right now."

With that, the older woman hurried towards the servants' stairs. Satisfied with her punishment, Delaney returned to her room and closed the door behind her, leaning against it.

Vincent sat on the end of her bed, his robe on him now, hands hanging between his knees with his fingers woven together.

"You didn't have to do that," he informed her with a sad smile, "I know I scare people. You didn't have to lose your lady's maid for it."

Delaney sighed and walked towards him with a mischievous smirk. When she got to him she reached down and untied his robe. Stepping between his knees, she pushed it off his shoulders. He looked up at her in amusement.

"What are you up to my Lady?" he murmured.

Delaney took his hands, stepping back and pulling up on them to make him get to his feet. Once he did, she pulled the robe the rest of the way off of him and stepped back, biting her lip.

"I discovered something last night," she blushed as she met his eyes.

He smiled curiously, "And what is that?"

Delaney bit her lip and blushed redder. She hesitated, dropping her eyes from his but letting them hover over his bare chest.

"I discovered I quite like looking at you," she made herself answer at last, pushing through her nervousness to see his reaction and hear herself say it out loud.

When he didn't reply she looked up at him and saw his face had fallen. His expression was now a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"Why would you say that?" he asked quietly, "You don't need to make up for what she did. I know how I look."

Delaney shook her head quickly, "No! No, I'm not trying to make up for anything."

He turned and reached for his robe, his own face reddening now in embarrassment, "I know how I look, Delaney. This is... this is ugly." He gestured to the webs of scars across his face and body. "I don't expect you to like to look at me."

"But last night when we were talking about you not having a mirror in your room," she tried, "I told you then I was starting to like the way you look."

He frowned at her, "You were joking."

"No I wasn't," she argued, "Vincent, please! I really wasn't."

He pulled on the robe and moved to close it over his chest but she was quick to catch his hands, wincing at the pain from her glass cuts.

"Be careful," he said quickly, grabbing her hands and studying them, "Harris will need to wrap these again."

Delaney pulled her hands away and opened his robe again. He stiffened when she reached out and lightly ran her fingertips over the unscarred side of his chest, in awe of the powerful muscles she found there.

She pressed her palm flat against his abdomen and followed the lines of his chest back up to his face. Vincent had turned away from her, looking panicked and embarrassed. Delaney reached up with her other hand though and gently turned his face to look back at her.

"I do like looking at you," she assured him, "I'm sorry for all the mean things I said before that made you think you're ugly. I was wrong and cruel."

He took her hand from his face and softly kissed the top of it, "I appreciate you saying that... But I know I'm menacing to look at now. I knew it at the hospital before I was even able to see myself. Everyone finds me frightening."

"I don't care what everyone else thinks," she shook her head, "I care what we think."

Vincent looked down at her, studying her for a moment before she stretched upwards and kissed him. Delaney wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.

When the breakfast bell rang, they eased apart and Delaney smiled up at him.

"You may not believe me," she sighed, "But I think you're handsome."

He laughed sheepishly looking away, "Get dressed my Lady. I just remembered my brother is here and I'm going to have to go tell him I married a madwoman."

Delaney put on a look of mock offense before rolling her eyes and laughing.

"I'd better hurry before he reports to your mother that I'm a terrible wife."