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“And good morning to you, my ladies.” The Duchess of Merriweather studied their faces. “You are the daughters of Lord Crawford and Baron Darnell, are you not?”
“Indeed, Your Grace. I am Lady Henrietta Stanton, and my companion is Miss Eva Darnell.”
The Duchess of Merriweather smiled. “That is excellent. Are you looking into the new fashions?”
“Yes, we are, Your Grace.”
“That is excellent news. Do be sure, if you make any purchases today, to buy something suitable for a masquerade. I am planning a grand masquerade party at our estate, Friday next. The formal invitations should arrive tomorrow, but I have hopes that much, if not all of the ton will be there.” She gestured. “I can scarce believe it, but my husband told me last evening that he has even convinced the Marquess of Salisbury to put in an appearance. His first of the Season!”
“The Marquess of Salisbury?” Henrietta stared. “At the masquerade?”
She could not picture the man she had met yesterday at any sort of social function. And yet the masquerade might well appeal to him in its relative anonymity.
Well, she was not going to miss the event, or the chance to see the man in a social setting outside his house. “I am certain we shall attend, Your Grace.”
“Indeed. I would not miss it for the world, Duchess.” Eva nodded.
“Excellent. Now then, you have shopping I suppose, and I certainly have much to do, so I will see you there. A good day to you both.”
Eva and Henrietta both offered a farewell curtsy., then watched as the Duchess moved away and was handed into a carriage with the Merriweather coat of arms.
Eva pursed her lips in a distracted manner. “Henrietta, how on earth do you plan to make the masquerade if you are going to be at the Salisbury estate? Even if you left when he did, you would never have enough time to prepare for the event and arrive in any sort of timely manner. And besides, would not your family be rather suspicious?”
“They would indeed, and Andrew more than most given that he knows about the wager. No, I shall have to find some way to make my excuses for the day. Something that might be planned in advance, but not suspicious. Perhaps some engagement with my brother, or some time-consuming activity that would need a day to complete.”
Sarah was always preoccupied on wash days, as she recalled. And there were other tasks too, that took a lot of time to do well and finish properly. The mending perhaps, which was not too different from the embroidery young ladies did, and thus might be easier to keep straight as a ruse.
Come what may, she would be at the masquerade, and she would see the Marquess of Salisbury there.
CHAPTERTEN
‘Is this satisfactory, my lord?’
He turned to find Hetty standing behind him. The sheet was wrapped around her, but it was sheer as a gossamer veil, leaving little to the imagination. His mouth went dry, and his pulse pounded, so hard he could form no words.
A teasing glimmer lit her sea-colored eyes. ‘Perhaps my lord has a different idea in mind?’
She let the sheet slide a little, dropping slowly, teasingly, down over her chest until it fell away from her bosom, revealing her perfect, well-rounded breasts, the rosy nipples catching the light just so, inviting him to touch, to caress, as her playfully pursed lips and mock pout seemed to beg for kisses.
And still, he could form no words, no sentence, torn between desire and control. His throat could not move, his tongue dry as a desert and his breeches uncomfortably tight.
‘No? Then perhaps...perhaps you would like me to pose for you like this?’
A blush stained her cheeks, all the way down to the tops of her tantalizing breasts, but she released the sheet to fall upon the floor, taking a single step toward him as she did so.
Long, pale, graceful legs, a slender trim waist. And connecting the two, elegantly shaped hips that begged to be held, to be gripped and pulled closer, and—
He nearly lost all semblance of control at the patch of dark curls that peeked at him from the juncture of her thighs. Soft, delicate-looking curls which begged to be stroked, toyed with until the thighs around them parted like the gates of paradise for further exploration, until he could sink his hands into her most secret places and discover what she would look like in the throes of passion.
She would be lovely, he knew, far beyond the beauty that inspired his art. His face felt hot, and the last vestiges of his control were slipping away as she stepped forward again.
And then, she was close, so close, and his hand reached up of its own accord, to stroke her breast, toy with and roll the nipple between his fingers in a delicate caress, and his other hand slipped lower, lower…
Daniel jolted awake, his chest heaving with rapid breaths. Sweat glued his sheets to him—at least, where they weren’t tented in an absurd fashion over a straining hardness that he’d not experienced in a long time.
With a groan, he allowed himself to collapse back into the pillows, and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to bring himself under control.
God above! He had only known Hetty Smith for three days. He had no call to be thinking, let alonedreamingsuch things about the girl. For all he’d brought it upon himself, he was rather mortified.
