Blame It On Bath
“She dressed again in her fawn dress, the silk sadly crumpled despite Birdie’s efforts to lay it flat on the table. The innkeeper sent up a tray with breakfast, and on it were a brush and comb along with some orange water. Birdie dampened her hair and combed out all the curls Katherine’s mother insisted she wear, but then there was nothing they could do except pin it up in a plain chignon. Her hair, though shiny and thick, was absolutely, hopelessly, plain and straight. Katherine dabbed the oran...ge water behind her ears, grateful she would smell nice if nothing else, and went down to meet her bridegroom.
He looked fresh and handsome, dazzlingly masculine in his scarlet coat and tall, polished boots. He was signing the register as she came downstairs and glanced up at her from beneath a rumpled wave of dark hair falling over his brow. His blue eyes gleamed as he flashed her a quick smile. It was all Katherine could do to nod in reply. Good gracious; she was taken off guard by how very attractive he was in the full light of day, freshly shaved and washed, wearing his spotless uniform.MoreLess
He looked fresh and handsome, dazzlingly masculine in his scarlet coat and tall, polished boots. He was signing the register as she came downstairs and glanced up at her from beneath a rumpled wave of dark hair falling over his brow. His blue eyes gleamed as he flashed her a quick smile. It was all Katherine could do to nod in reply. Good gracious; she was taken off guard by how very attractive he was in the full light of day, freshly shaved and washed, wearing his spotless uniform.MoreLess
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