How to Claim a Governess’s Heart - Bridget Barton Page 0,85
giggle.
Bridget made a point to roll her eyes at the comment and blushed. She knew exactly what Mrs. Smith was referring too. Never in her life had she worn a dress without a high neckline or a fichu for modesty’s sake. However, this dress had a very low neckline, leaving a diamond exposure of cleavage between hemline and mantlet.
“Perhaps a tucker would be wise?” Bridget suggested.
“Absolutely not. Not a single lady will be wearing one with a full dress.”
“You don’t know that. Perhaps he is taking me to an evening service.”
“We both know that Lord John said he was to take you out for a surprise and show you off to society. I think we both can agree that no member of society plans on a religious gathering on a Friday night. You will be off to a ball, or a party, or maybe even the theatre,” Mrs. Smith mused.
Twenty minutes later, Bridget descended the stairs feeling no more comfortable in her own skin or any wiser to the event she would be attending that evening. Lord John waited just outside the parlour, pacing back and forth nervously.
He stopped when Bridget appeared and took in her full beauty. Bridget worried for a moment that the surprised look on his face suggested she had done wrong in purchasing so much, but when his face split into a stomach-flipping smile, she knew that her choices had pleased him.
“You are beautiful every moment of the day, but tonight you have taken my breath away,” Lord John softly spoke as he kissed her glove hand.
Lord John was also looking the part of a fine gentleman ready for a night out on the town. Most days, he dressed rather casually for someone of his birth, but tonight he had made sure to look his very best. His tall black boots shined brightly, his black pantaloons and coat were brushed to perfection, and his white cravat was tied especially intricately.
Despite all of this, his face was the same that Bridget had grown to love. She could tell he had freshly shaved, leaving his chiselled jaw so smooth her fingers itched to touch it.
Wrapping her arm in his, she breathed in the sweet scent of sandalwood and lemon. She allowed him to lead her out of the house and to a waiting carriage just outside the gate. They were not the only ones exiting their home. The whole street was alive with fashionable people entering their own carriages and driving down the cobbled road to events.
“Are you going to tell me where you are taking me?” Bridget asked as she stepped into the carriage.
“Not at all,” Lord John said with a jovial laugh. “I thought about forcing you to keep the blinds on the carriage down as well. The line to the front will be so long, I am sure, that I figured that much of a wait would be torturous. Still, you will have to wait until the building is before us to know what plans I have for you tonight.”
Bridget did her best to wait patiently as they drove in the carriage. She could tell that Lord John was relishing every moment of her squirming.
“The theatre?” Bridget burst out as her head popped out of the window and into the cold night air.
They had rounded the street where the Theatre Royal rested like a tremendous glowing edifice among waiting carriages. Bridget hadn’t believed that this was their destination until their own carriage pulled in line with the rest.
“Come back inside before you fall out completely,” Lord John called to her with a laugh.
Bridget felt like a little child. She couldn’t ever remember being so excited. She did her best to exit their carriage when their time finally came with as much decorum as she could muster.
“Not quite as many as I expected would be here,” Lord John said, measuring the small crowd making their way up the steps. “But then I thought you would prefer to be on time for the opening act. Most won't arrive till at least the second act.”
“We are actually going to watch a whole production at the Theatre Royal?” Bridget whispered in awe as they made their way up the steps and inside. “What are we to see?” she said with a sudden realisation that she didn’t know.
“It was too perfect to pass up. Higgins let me borrow his family’s box for the night. We will be watching A Midsummer’s Night Dream,” Lord John said with a broad smile.