“You are uncomfortable,” he said. “I apologize. We will not proceed.”
She faced him. “What? No.” She shook her head. “This task. It’s on your list, correct?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“Then I will do it. In exchange for a favor.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Anything.”
She clasped her hands together at her breast. “Convince Mr. Blaylock to leave my sister alone.” There was little she could do to send the man away, but Cordon had resources and influence that she’d never possess. Whatever Mr. Blaylock demanded, she was confident Cordon could provide.
All men had a price.
Cordon shook his head. “You did not need to ask. I would have dealt with him regardless.”
A sense of giddiness enveloped her, loosening muscles she hadn’t realized had been tight. “Then that is all I need.”
With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned her bodice, removed it, and set it on her bed. Her skirt, petticoats, crinoline, chemise, drawers, and stockings followed. When she was wearing nothing but her skin and shivering, she removed a metal pin from her head. A long strand of hair unfurled and dropped all the way to her knees.
Cordon exhaled harshly through his nose, then reached for her.
She dropped the pin. It fell and embedded into the carpet, where someone might step on it.
“Wait,” she said as she knelt down and picked up the pin. If she continued playing the hoyden, her carpet would becomea treacherous place for anyone walking around without hard-soled shoes.
“Sit,” he said, when she rose. He said the words casually, but she could hear the repressed excitement in his voice. She did as he’d bidden.
He threaded his hands into her hair and removed a second pin, then took the resulting strand and gently placed it over her shoulder. A dozen more pins followed. Then he gathered several strands and pulled them behind her back. When he finished, he flipped a triangular plait over her head and dropped it, so it fell onto her chest. It looked ridiculous, but it covered the most important parts of her upper body.
She was still placing herself in enormous danger by venturing out in little more than her cloak, but he had a pistol tucked into his trousers and had assured her he would gladly brandish it at anyone who looked at her askance.
“Follow me,” he whispered. Then he took her hand and led her downstairs, out the back door, and into an alley. She only made it a few steps before her feet ached from tiny rocks sticking to her bare soles, but that was trivial compared to chills she felt when every small sound had her convinced they were about to run into a crowd of people. Within minutes, her teeth were chattering from cold and fear.
Cordon came to a sudden halt and peered beneath her hood. “You’re shaking.”
“Of course I am. I’m outside, in the cold, hoping no one will see us.” She lifted her bare foot and waggled her toes. “With no shoes!”
He looked down, then scooped her in his arms.
She bit her tongue to keep from squealing. It would have been bad enough to be spotted with him in her state of undress, but this was far worse. “Put me down, Cordon.”
“We’re nearly there. I paid a footman quite handsomely to wait nearby with a horse.”
She huffed. “Then why did we need to walk such a distance?”
“To make it more exciting.”
Of course he would say that, because guiding a naked woman through the streets of London somehow wasn’t exciting enough.
He darted around a corner and then between two buildings, where a young man waited, holding the reins of a saddled white mare.
She inhaled sharply, but the moment the footman spotted them, he dropped the reins and sprinted off.
Cordon put her down. “You need not worry. Every member of my staff is trustworthy.” He nudged her toward the horse. “Give Melody a pat. She is my sweetest mare.”
The creature snuffled her cloak as she approached.
“Looking for apples,” he said as she uttered a delighted laugh.
