Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,110
the writing desk in an effort to spread her before him when Mr. Jeffers sought them out at his mother’s behest.
“Do you wish horses to be saddled for a survey of the property, my lord?” the man asked, looking at his feet since he’d surprised them in an embrace. “Her ladyship thought some fresh air might be welcome after spending all day yesterday cooped up in your coach.”
Jasper looked at Julia, who was staring out the window to keep from having to look the butler in the eyes after being caught kissing.
Almost imperceptibly, she nodded her agreement.
“Yes,” Jasper told the man. “We shall go for a ride, and please invite my mother.”
After he left, Julia rounded on him. “Now your butler thinks I’m no better than a Drury Lane vestal.”
“Nonsense,” Jasper soothed her. “I’m sure Jeffers thinks you an absolute angel and that I’m a worthless thatch-gallows, the very worst of bad characters!” He took her hand and led her out of the library.
“I hope you don’t mind my inviting my mother. I fear if she isn’t with us, I might find a place just past the terraced gardens and lay you upon the chilly ground.”
“That doesn’t sound particularly inviting,” Julia confessed.
Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles, feeling like a randy lad, unable to get enough.
“I vow I would warm you from the inside out.”
When her step faltered as she undoubtedly imagined him thrusting inside her — for that was all he could think of — he added, “It will have to wait until tonight.”
AS PROMISED, AFTER the long ride and a walk around the outside of the house, Julia found Emily in her room with gowns!
“There’s a bath already drawn for you, miss,” the maid said, and Julia could easily have hugged her.
Chilled to the bone, sore from both the horse-riding and the walk, a bath was precisely what she needed to get through the rest of the evening.
Moreover, she would be ready for what came later.
“Shall I help you in the bath, miss? I’ve brought a hair cleanser, too.”
“Do we have time?” Julia asked, already beginning to strip off the same clothing she’d worn all the previous day.
“Oh yes, miss. I’ve got extra towels to dry your hair, and the bellows trick my mum taught me. If we start with your hair and let you sit a bit, then the egg froth can dry enough to rinse it out with the rum and rose-water.”
“Very well, Emily. I shall put myself in your capable hands.”
Two hours later, with her hair nearly dry and still hanging around her shoulders in need of styling, the maid showed her what gowns she’d scavenged.
“I found a trunk, miss, with some lovely gowns, but I need more time to clean them. They had a musty odor I didn’t think you’d care for.”
“Thank you.” Julia was happy to avoid spending the next few hours smelling like a damp cellar.
“But there were more gowns in a wardrobe on the next floor up. Mrs. Bowman said they’d be all right for you to use. I’m thinking the blue, what with your eyes and fair hair.”
“Perfect,” Julia agreed, until Emily opened the now-full armoire and drew out the first dress.
Dear God! The size wasn’t bad and the length would suit so she wouldn’t trip, but...
“I know they’re a wee bit out of fashion, miss.”
Wee bit? Emily had a flair for understatement. Julia nearly laughed except she feared she would look absurd. It was like dressing for a masked ball except instead of a costume, she was choosing something from a time when King George was still young and perfectly sane, or his father before him.
“Are they all ... of a similar look?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Very well. Let’s get on with it. The longer we wait, the more outdated the gowns will become.”
Apparently, this struck Emily as hilarious, for she dissolved into laughter before going about her duty and helping Julia into first a clean but well-worn and thus extraordinarily soft shift, and then her own stays — thank goodness! — before holding up a—
“What the devil!” Julia exclaimed before she could tame her tongue.
“Pocket hoops, miss. Mrs. Bowman recalled her mother wearing them and said you’ll need these for the sides of the gown. We’re just lucky they were kept in the trunk.”
Lucky wasn’t exactly the word Julia was thinking.
After letting Emily tie the infernal contraption around her waist, Julia had a three-tiered cage of striped fabric attached to each hip. Then she held up her