Richard strode through the hall to tell Chloe the news. She was not in his solar or the kitchens.

“Lad, where is Mistress Chloe?”

“She is in her chamber, my lord.”

He patted the boy on the back and took the steps to the second floor, so eager to tell her the news that he did not knock.

“One of the Irishmen plays the lute. He will play tonight and the lads will sing. ’Twill be—”

Richard did not remember what he was saying. She had removed her stocking, her leg was bare, and as he watched, she took a spoon, dipped it in a bowl—the smell of beeswax filled the chamber—then spread it on her calf, applied a strip of cloth, took a deep breath, and ripped it off.

She let out a shriek. He crossed the room in two strides.

“What the bloody hell are you about? Have you injured yourself?” He touched the red spot on her calf. “’Tis smooth as a newborn babe.” He stroked the skin.

“Um…well…I was removing the hair from my leg.” Her hair was pulled up. He could see the colors of the leaves in autumn in each curl.

He touched her leg again, marveling at how smooth it was. “Why?”

Her eyes reminded him of fine whiskey. Garrick was right: she was beautiful, and he would not have noticed her before, but she had his complete attention now.

Pink crept up her neck and cheeks. “Where I come from, all the women remove the hair from their legs and underarms.”

His gaze went to her arms. “Does it pain ye?”

“Yep.” She showed him the bowl. “Beeswax and a bit of sugar. But don’t worry, I’ll buy more.”

“Nay, you shall have whatever you require.”

“Once the wax is melted, you put it on your skin, press the cloth to the wax, and then rip it off.”

He winced.

“I know, right?” She grinned. “It stings for a few minutes, but the pain is worth it.”

“If you say ’tis so.” He sniffed the bowl. The same scent was on her; the light from the candles and fire turned her skin gold.

“I wanted to look pretty for the feast tonight.”

Richard reached out and touched her skin, running his hand up her leg, marveling at the softness. “You are beautiful.”

She leaned in, and he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, smell the wax on her skin. Richard pulled her close.

“My lord, the lads are fighting in the hall.” One of the servants leaned against the doorway, breathing heavily.

With a sigh, Richard pulled back. “Aye, I am coming.” Though he wanted nothing more than to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

“I look forward to dancing with you after supper.”

When he turned and looked back, she was staring into the fire, her fingers to her lips. How he envied her fingers.

Chloe soaked in the wooden tub, grateful it was padded with fabric so she wouldn’t get a splinter. It was kind of like being in a rustic hot tub without the bubbles.

She wanted to scream. At first she was mortified he had seen her waxing her legs, but then…he thought she was beautiful.

When he touched her skin, she went weak in the knees. Back home, he would have kissed her at the end of their first date. Here? The anticipation, the build-up, made every moment she was with him full of tension. He’d almost kissed her a few times, they were always interrupted.

It was enough to make her want to pull him into the hidden room and kiss him until she got it out of her system. This was what courting or wooing was all about.

Her granda had told her how a single glance or touch could mean so much. She’d thought he was crazy, until she experienced it herself. Found excuses to run into Richard. To brush her fingers against his. She sighed.

The room smelled like lavender. She’d bought the horribly expensive soap at the market, along with a mirror and cloth for a new tunic and hose for him for Christmas.

This would be the first Christmas she wouldn’t be with family. Chloe knew growing up meant not always seeing family for every holiday, but she didn’t think it would happen so soon.

What she wouldn’t give to see her granda and Richard together.

Two of the girls helped her wash her hair and then dry off. Wrapped in a robe in front of the fire, Maron brushed her hair until the curls were dry and crackled with electricity.

The meal had been a huge success. Everyone loved the food, and there’d been a surprise. Richard had her cut into a pie using her spoon, and when she did, live birds flew out of it. Chloe screamed while Richard and the men all laughed. She didn’t think she’d look at a pie the same way for a long time.

Tristan and his brother sang while one of the Irish stonemasons played the lute. They sang love songs and sad songs about unrequited love and, of course, battle songs.

When the tables and benches were pushed against the walls, Richard claimed the first dance. Chloe and the other women danced until their feet were ready to fall off, casting shadows on the walls in the torchlight.

“Come, walk on the battlements with me.” He pulled her cloak around her and offered his arm.

The frigid air felt so good after all the dancing. The moon was full tonight, turning everything silver. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night.

Chloe turned to point out a shooting star, only to find him watching her. She froze as he took a step closer, and then another. And then she was in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes.

His lips were firm against hers. She could taste the spiced wine, smell the snow in the air as she melted against him.

Chloe had kissed her fair share of guys, but none of them kissed like Richard. If he hadn’t been holding her against him, her knees would have given way. A perfect ending to the most perfect night of her life. She wanted it to last forever.

The hiss of a sword from its sheath made her jerk back so fast that she hit her head against the wall.

“Let the lass go, Richard.” Garrick and two other guardsmen stood there with disapproving looks on their faces. “’Tis not proper. You are a lord now and she is under your protection.”

Garrick offered his arm. “Come along, mistress. I will see you to your chamber.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “I will see each of you in the lists tomorrow.”

In a daze, she let Garrick lead her to her room. He gently pushed her down on the stool, a grin on his face.

“Good evening to you, mistress.”

She couldn’t form a coherent thought; she was too focused on the sensations running through her body.

When Lilly came in to help her undress, Chloe had recovered, though she kept replaying the kiss over and over. Talk about amazing.

“You were kissing him and he mussed your hair,” Lilly said while she removed the pins from Chloe’s hair.

Chloe touched a finger to her swollen lips. “How did you know?”

The girl’s eyes sparkled and she stepped closer. “His lordship and Garrick were shouting at each other.” She tsk-tsked. “You are to have a chaperone at all times.”

A giggle escaped and then another as Lilly brushed Chloe’s hair. “What was it like?” She sighed.

“Magic,” Chloe said with a smile.