Page 39 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

The time of their pretend betrothal was finally drawing to a close. And though Elizabeth knew she should be grateful, she could not stop the pinch of hurt in her chest every time she thought of losing Jasper.

She had enjoyed her time with him. The way his flirtation made her come to life and how he was not the man he portrayed to the world and how that made her want to learn even more about it. And then there were those quiet, intimate moments they’d shared together—when he’d almost kissed her, when he’d told her exactly how he’d touch her.

Grace whisked the dress from its box, startling Elizabeth from the places her mind should not go.

“Come now, Elizabeth,” Grace called out. “Let’s prepare you for your own handsome fiancé.”

By the time the game hens had been roasted to a golden brown and the soups poured into the tureen, and the first of the guests were on their way to Langston House, Elizabeth was laced into a corset that pushed her breasts higher than nature intended, and she’d been stuffed into the gown like a Christmas goose.

Though breathing was indeed difficult, Elizabeth had to admit that once again her sisters were correct. The gown looked stunning.

Her narrow waist was impossibly tiny in midnight-blue velvet with silver beaded flowers that caught the light and sparkled. Matching silver flowers were placed in her upswept hair among the many intricate curls, so they sparkled like stars.

Her sisters admired their handiwork, appearing more than pleased with themselves, and deservedly so, as Elizabeth had to admit.

“Lord Darington won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” Kitty exclaimed. “It’s all anyone has been speaking of lately, as it is.”

“Have they?” Elizabeth murmured.

“Oh, yes,” Grace agreed. “Whatever you discussed during the waltz had everyone talking.”

Elizabeth’s face flushed. She thought of that conversation far too often. Mostly at night when she lay in her bed alone and his words whispered back to her, silky, sinful. Those were the times she let her fingertips trail over her inner thighs, pretending they were his, setting her body alight with a longing she did not know how to quench. She’d even been so bold as to stroke the seam between her legs, finding herself damp and hot, the pressure of her touch almost too exquisite to bear.

A knock came from the door, and Mama entered to announce the party was about to begin, sparing Elizabeth from having to answer Grace’s question.

Bess was beaming the entire carriage ride to Langston Place.

Truth be told, Jasper was rather excited himself. He had been enjoying his engagement with Elizabeth, and missed her the last two days they had not seen one another.

He knew she’d been unwell, and he found himself worrying over her health often, imagining her spending most of her time curled up in her bed reading, as she often said she enjoyed doing.

To that effect, he had procured the three-volume set of Sense and Sensibility, which had come highly recommended from the bookshop owner.

Jasper was becoming one of those ridiculous sods who fawned over a woman, but he didn’t care. After all, it was all for show.

Wasn’t it?

Jasper alighted from the carriage and gave his arm to Bess, leading her into Langston Place. The townhouse didn’t have the ornate opulence of Darington Place, not that it was poorly appointed by any means. But in contrast, it was comfortable, lived in, in the way that suggested a family who loved one another resided inside, with thick pile rugs and tables crowded with vases and walls laden with portraits and paintings. There was a cozy warmth to the building that made it feel far more a home than the expansive halls of Darington Place, where the only thing that rang out louder than the footsteps was the silence.

Jasper and his grandmother joined Lord and Lady Langston to receive the guests just as Elizabeth descended the stairs.

She was exquisite in a dark-blue gown, sparkling with bits of silver as if she’d shone down from a moonbeam. A veritable goddess of the night.

And she would be standing by his side.

His fiancée.

He straightened taller. Tonight of all nights, he wanted to be worthy of her. Or at least appear he was.

“Doesn’t she, Jasper?” Bess asked.

Jasper turned to his grandmother. “I beg your pardon?”

“I think he’s quite besotted.” Bess chuckled indulgently. “Doesn’t your fiancée look lovely?”

“Absolutely beautiful,” he answered earnestly.

Elizabeth watched him with her arresting blue eyes, never taking them off him, even as she flushed in pleasure at his words.