Beauty Tempts the Beast (Sins for All Seasons #6) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,47

me search for it?”

She took the opportunity to appreciate the smoothness of his long strides as he made his way to a bookcase with glass doors near the entry into the room. A click sounded as he pulled open one of the doors, and when he closed it. As he neared her, he extended a book. Reverently, she took it and skimmed her fingers over the wavy grain of the violet hard cover. Then she turned it in order to admire the spine where the title and his name were etched in gold. She wanted to caress the man as much as she did the book. She lifted her gaze to his. “Will you mind if I read it?”

“You may have it, do with it as you will.”

“I don’t want to take your copy—”

“I have another. Several, in fact.” He returned to his chair but remained standing.

She edged around hers, eased onto the plush cushion, and took a sip of the sherry, waiting while he settled.

Studying her, he took a long swallow of what she was fairly certain was scotch. “During dinner, each of the ladies shared their account of the afternoon, but you held silent. So now tell me the truth of it.”

She was grateful they weren’t going to immediately leap into her lessons. “It went fairly well, even if they are a bit unruly at times. I’m given to understand you had a very nice frock made for each of them. I need them to wear it during lessons.”

“Then have them do so.”

“When I suggested it, I learned you told them the frocks may only be worn on the day they leave—and they see your word as sacrosanct. However, if they are to have any success, they need to view themselves differently, as ladies. And they can’t do that if they are flaunting their attributes.”

“I’ll talk with them.”

“Thank you.”

His gaze traveled the length of her in an assessing way that had her wishing she was dressed in something similar to what the ladies had been wearing that afternoon.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to a seamstress to have some frocks made for you.”

“That’s very generous of you, but not necessary.”

“You have the gray, a blue”—that she’d worn the second night he’d seen her at the pub—“the green. Have you anything else?”

A flannel nightdress and undergarments, although she didn’t think he really had any interest in those items. She didn’t want to acknowledge how worn the gray and the blue were becoming. “I find them to be sufficient.”

“You just successfully argued that a person’s clothing should reflect who they are and what they want from life. Shouldn’t the same apply to you? Shouldn’t you have clothing worthy of a seductress?”

With her own words, he’d trapped her into doing what he wanted. It annoyed her that he should be so clever.

She looked toward the fire, remembering a time when she would have stalked from the room in a fit of temper, would have rained down oaths, would have seen servants sacked, for an irritation much less potent than the anger roiling through her for having fallen into his snare. But that was back when she had options, relied on no one’s mercy, because her father had wielded such power that the tentacles of it reached out and cradled her, so she mirrored that power. But she no longer had the luxury of showing her annoyance, or the authority to insist those surrounding her work diligently to make matters right. As a mistress, her future would be determined by the whims of a man and her ability not to show her upset with him. She feared she wouldn’t be up to the task, that she didn’t possess the acting skills necessary to disguise her displeasure.

She turned her attention back to him. “You’re quite right. I thank you for your kind consideration. A trip to the dressmaker would be welcome.”

If he gloated with his success, she would call it a night. Only he didn’t. He simply continued to study her.

“I forgot to mention, and I don’t know if you discerned it this afternoon, but all the ladies read. If there are any books that would help you in achieving your goal, give me the titles and I’ll see them delivered here.”

“I’m surprised. I would have thought not knowing one’s letters would have been a factor in leading them to this occupation.”

“Women turn to this life for all sorts of reasons. Some have the ability to read, some don’t. My sister Fancy offers free reading