Iliana was in her room before her own words struck her. “Mayhap he would be willing to take a bath early.” Pausing by the bed, she began to worry her lip. Every night she had watched her husband remove his clothes, piece by piece, and every night she had felt a stirring within her. That stirring had become a constant slow burn within the pit of her belly ever since the morning when he had tried to seduce her. She had alternately suffered regret and relief ever since; grateful for the interruption that had saved her from her own body’s wants, yet wondering how it would have felt to experience that satisfaction he had spoken of.

Well, now she smelled at least as bad as he did. His scent would not even be noticeable to her, she was sure. Her smell, on the other hand, might affect him. If it did, mayhap she could persuade him to share a bath with her.

The opening of the door drew her attention as Ebba entered, followed by servants carrying a tub and buckets of water. Iliana waited impatiently until the water was poured and all but Ebba gone, then ordered the woman urgently: “Go fetch my husband, Ebba.”

“Fetch…?”

“Aye, at once.”

“Aye, my lady.” She started for the door, only to pause when Iliana called her back.

“My dress; I will need help removing it.”

Wrinkling her nose, she set to the chore until Iliana was naked but for the belt of chastity, then departed.

Iliana immediately rushed to the discarded gown and searched through it for the ring of keys her father-in-law had made up for her. With the dress in a tangled bundle, it took her longer than she had expected to retrieve the blasted keys, but once she had them, she quickly unlocked and removed the belt.

She was just trying to decide what to do with it when she recognized the sound of her husband stomping down the hall. Giving a slight squeal, she rushed to the bed and dove under the linens, uncaring at that moment that they would have to be cleaned ere the night, for while most of the manure had been removed with the dress, there was still some clinging to her hair, arms, and lower legs.

She had just arranged herself in what she hoped was a seductive pose when the door burst open and her husband strode in, obviously irritated.

“What the devil be the matter? Ebba said ’twas urgent. That ye—” The words dried up in his mouth as he spied her clothes lying near the bed and realized she must be nude. His eyes widened incredulously, then his gaze slid to the tub and he stiffened, anger returning. “I see. Yer hopin’ to lure me to the tub with the promise o’ a tumble. Well, it willna work—” The tirade died when she suddenly held up the chastity belt she still held in her hand. “Gor!”