A/N: Here's another chapter for you, lovelies. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Ezra ordered a tub brought up to his room and had two of the chinese boys from the laundry pack buckets of warm water up the stairs to fill it. Aggie sat on the bed, wrapped in Ezra's coat for comfort, watching them as they came and went. She admired the way they worked, hard and without complaint. They each had a yoke that crossed their shoulders with a bucket swinging from a rope on each side. She couldn't imagine making all those trips up and down the street and the stairs, let alone carrying the buckets of water. Ezra passed each of them a shiny coin when the bathtub was filled and they both smiled and nodded first at him and then at her. She smiled back, thinking it was the least she could do; Mam had told her it was impolite not to smile back at someone who smiled at you first.

Ezra took a small glass bottle from his chest of drawers and uncorked it. He shook it over the steaming water and several drops fell in. The sweet smell of lavender filled the room and Aggie breathed it in deeply, enjoying the calm it produced.

"Should I go downstairs now?" Aggie asked when Ezra sat down next to her and kicked off his boots.

He looked at her, confused. "Why?"

"So you can bathe."

Ezra chuckled and took his hat off, throwing it so that it settled perfectly on the top of the coat rack near the door. "My dear girl, the bath is for you. I have told you that I am a gentleman first, have I not?"

"It would be terribly nice to clean up," Aggie said, looking at the clear water rippling against the sides of the tin bath.

Ezra stood up and touched her shoulder gently. "There's an unused room next door, I'll go in there and clean up. Just let me know when you've finished, I'm sure we'll be able to find you something to wear. A new dress, perhaps? We shall consider it a part of your trousseau."

He stood to leave but Aggie snapped her hand out and grasped his sleeve. "Ezra, don't go."

He looked at her, then looked at the bath. "My dear it isn't that I don't want to stay. As a matter of fact I can't think of anything I'd like more, but-"

"Ezra, stay. You're going to be my husband. I don't give a damn what anyone thinks, we each of us could have died today. All I want is to lay in this tub of sweet smelling water with you and wash the whole day away."

She worried he was going to leave anyway when he walked over to the door, but instead he closed and locked it. In response, she stood and shed his coat, hanging it from the bedpost. She circled around the tub and met him near the door. He was unbuttoning the buttons on his cuffs, she undid the top button of his shirt, then moved down to the others.

"If you'd rather, I could remain clothed," he said, and his voice was hoarse.

"I'd rather you didn't," Aggie answered softly, undoing the final button, her fingers moving quickly. They were mother of pearl, she'd never seen anything so fine on a man's shirt before. He slipped his arms through his suspenders and pushed them off his shoulders, leaving her free to remove his shirt, which she did. She traced a line over his collarbone with her finger and then down his chest. Beneath the skin she could feel the outline of his muscles, and for a gambling man he certainly wasn't soft. She knew his arms were strong but she'd never seen them exposed, and she revelled in the joy of running her hands up and down them, from the smooth skin of his shoulders to the hair of his forearms.

"You're the handsomest man I've ever seen," she breathed.

He kissed her tenderly then began to undo the buttons down the front of her dress. "I don't mean to rush, but the water will chill," he said softly, as if to himself.

She waited for him to finish with the buttons, then let her dress fall unimpeded to the floor. Her corset was a loose and practical kind, and her bloomers were kept in place with a drawstring she tied in the front. She turned and lifted her hair so that Ezra could unfasten her stays, which he did with alacrity. While he did, she untied the string on her undergarments and then turned to face him once again. In a few moments she would be standing naked before him and she was suddenly filled with a choking panic. She clamped her arms to her sides, holding her corset in place and took a step back.

Ezra could see the look on her face and he registered the change in her emotions.

"I can still leave. It's not too late," he said, "But please, I beg of you, don't look at me like you're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid of what you'll do," she answered truthfully.

"I'm not that kind of man, I swear it. I'm sure your Mother told you not to give anything up to smooth talking men, but I love you and I will marry you Agatha whether you choose to disrobe or not."

Aggie could see the pained look on his face and knew he wasn't lying.

"Oh, Ezra, I'm not afraid of that. It's not all pretty, not all of me. I've got burns, I still have scars. I'll always have scars, I worry that you'll see me and wonder why you'd want me over any other girl."

Ezra stepped forward and closed the gap between them again. He clasped her arms in his hands and gently pulled them away from her body. She looked up into his green eyes and felt her undergarments fall away from her and land in a heap at her feet.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.