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Lady Isabel frowned, then let out a sigh of defeat. “Most of the rooms are in the process of being redecorated. Perhaps the maids forgot to—” She frowned, not quite believing her own theory.
She paced back toward her vanity table, uneasiness evident on her face.
She really should not have been walking in the piece of silk she’d called a nightgown. The skirt swooshed around her ankles, baring her right leg up to her thigh every time she made a step.
She leaned against her vanity, and the pose just made the slit more pronounced. Her hair also moved away from her front, baring the low decolletage of her gown.
Vane blinked, not wanting to look away, although he knew he should. Lady Isabel sensed his uneasiness, or perhaps she noticed that nothing could save her half-clad form from revealing too much skin as she crossed her arms over her chest again.
“Did you say your valet insisted you spend the night in this room?”
“Not so much insisted that I spend the night here, merely let me know that there is no other place for me to occupy.”
“Hmm… apparently, every other room is miraculously occupied or being redecorated?”
“It seems so.”
Lady Isabel nodded. “You must think me a completely incompetent mistress.”
Vane frowned.Where did that come from?
“But it’s not my fault. At least not in the sense you think.” She heaved a sigh and started pacing again. “I try to befriend a six-year-old and get my ankle twisted. I try to give you heirs, and you banish me until I can provide evidence that I am not with child!”
“Banish isn’t exactly—”
She continued speaking, not paying him any heed. “And our servants think me incapable of luring my husband into my bed, which, let’s be honest, is true.” She let out a nervous laugh. “And they must have plotted to trick you into sleeping in my chamber!”
“What?” Rhys barked and took a step forward.
She was out of her mind. She had to be. Why would their servants meddle like this?
Lady Isabel nodded. “Anthea, my lady’s maid, told me they were discussing the lack of nights we spend together. I am completely mortified.” She covered her face with her palms.
“Were they the ones who tricked you into that poor excuse of a nightgown, too?”
“What? No!” Lady Isabel uncovered her blushing face. “No, this was a gift from a… friend.”
“Which friend?” Rhys’s suspicions rose to the forefront of his mind again.
Lady Isabel groaned. “I need to change now.”
Rhys still didn’t know why she was wearing the overly salacious attire. He couldn’t imagine it being comfortable to sleep in every night. Women wore things like this for one reason only: to easily shed after exchanging a few kisses with their lovers.
The nightgown had the desired effect on Vane, too. He doubted that’s what she wanted, though. Vane wasn’t looking forward to spending the night with the half-clad vixen either. But he somehow enjoyed making her uncomfortable. So he said, “Why? Didn’t you just don it in preparation for bed?”
She cleared her throat. “I did. But I thought I’d be alone.”
“Allow me to be candid. That attire is wasted without anyone being able to see it.”
Lady Isabel pulled her arms tighter around herself. “I shall go change,” she said testily.
Rhys let out a sigh. “Does that mean I am allowed to spend the night in your room?” he called after her as she walked toward her dressing room.
Lady Isabel nodded. “I suppose you can.”
“I should probably dismiss the lot if what you say about our servants is true.”
Lady Isabel shook her head. “They have good intentions. And it is your fault they acted this way.”
