Page 25 of The Gilded Lady
The response had been automatic. What was she sorry for? Him losing touch with his sisters? His mother’s death? “For the pain on your face when you told me that.”
His expression didn’t change but something in his eyes did. She’d surprised him. She didn’t know why but that made her happy. Able’s deep voice rumbled out from one of the curtained alcoves where he was being fitted by Sainsbury himself. Sainsbury’s assistant came bustling in a moment later, effectively breaking up whatever moment had been happening between them.
“You’re in luck. We have a shirt that we can alter to fit.” The man came to a stop next to the dais and set a few waistcoats in various shades of gray and black on a rack next to it. “Take off your shirt, Mr. Pierce, if you please, so that I can note the adjustments we need to make.”
Zane’s hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and Glory couldn’t keep her eyes from the bronze skin he revealed in the mirror as he unbuttoned each one. She nearly leaned forward until she caught herself when he revealed the indentation between the well-formed muscles of his chest. The line went allthe way down to his stomach, where she could just make out ridges of muscle. His thick fingers pulled the tail of his shirt from his trousers and she silently gaped at the bare expanse of skin revealed to her.
Her fingers curled into the arms of her chair and her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. It wasn’t from fear this time. No one could harm her, and this was in no way sexual. Maybe that was the very reason she actually experienced arousal instead of apprehension. Well, that, coupled with the memory of that kiss and being pressed against him. He was shrugging out of the garment before she came to her senses enough to realize that she had no business watching such an intimate scene.
“I—I’m sorry. I should leave you to your privacy.”
She pushed out of the chair, but his voice froze her in place. “Stay.”
That one word filled the room, echoing in her mind. Her gaze found his in the mirror again, but she couldn’t tell what he meant by that word. Nevertheless, she found herself sinking back into the soft cushion of the chair. Only when she was settled, did he continue. One shoulder, hardened and sculpted with muscle, shrugged out of the shirt, followed by the second. His muscles rippled and bunched under his smooth skin as he moved. Scars crisscrossed his right shoulder in a pattern of pink and white. She couldn’t tell what had made them, but the wounds must have been painful. Her heart ached that he’d had to endure whatever it was that had happened. They were too wide to be healed cuts from a knife, but they had a similar slashing pattern. There were more scars along his rib cage, an accumulation of nicks and cuts from his rough lifestyle, she supposed.
He paused with the shirt drooped at his waist as he unfastened it at his wrists before handing the shirt off to the assistant. As the man draped it over the rack, Zane stood tall in front of her.His back and chest were so defined she imagined that an artist would have an easy time sculpting him from stone. Her gaze transferred to the mirror so that she could see his front. One of the scars from his shoulder blade curled around his shoulder. Closing her hands into fists, she imagined what it would feel like to run her palms over him. A light patch of dark hair started at his lower belly, and she imagined it abrading her skin as she traced it. It led downward, disappearing into his pants.
The assistant came back over, breaking her line of sight. Thankfully. She hadn’t realized she was basically panting and took a moment to collect herself as he helped Zane into the shirt. He pinned and prodded, adjusting the fabric, before holding up a selection of waistcoats.
“Whichever one she prefers.” She heard Zane say a moment before the assistant brought the samples over for her.
She managed to get herself together enough to select the charcoal silk shot through with dark gray piping. She was starting to think that she might be able to make it through the rest of the fitting as Zane shrugged into the waistcoat. He turned to face her, holding out his arms so that she could get a good look.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’ll do.”
He smirked, his eyes catching hers and holding on. Apparently it was no secret how he affected her. However, she actually managed to smile back. This flirting between them was starting to be fun. She knew now—after that kiss—that he wouldn’t push it too far, and as a result, she could feel herself relaxing around him. Maybe they had no future, but they could have flirting.
“Happy to meet your high standards, pretty lady.”
She laughed. He did look good. Better than good. Sainsbury’s assistant had pinned in the waist, showing off Zane’s powerful, but lean frame. God, she’d have to keep some of her moreforward ladies off him when he showed up tonight like that. They all knew the rule against liaisons among staff, but it might be worth repeating it before the night was over.
“I think we may have less luck with the pants, but we’ll see what we can do.” The assistant’s voice interrupted her musing as he picked up a stack of trousers and held one up to Zane’s long legs. “Why don’t you take those off and try this pair? I’ll see what I can do to alter them.”
The second Zane’s hands made to go for the fastening on his pants, she fled the room. There was no way she could make it through seeing that part of him. As she came to a stop at the counter in the front room, she fanned herself to calm down, but she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. She kept imagining what was hidden in those pants and giggling like a schoolgirl.
It felt good to giggle. It had been years since she could remember laughing so much in the span of an hour, and never had it been over a man. At fourteen she’d been robbed of her adolescence, and couldn’t ever remember feeling such ridiculous infatuation over a man. Her hand went to her stomach as she marveled at the butterflies that fluttered around as she tried to imagine Zane naked.
She wondered if this is what her sister had felt when she’d gone all soft and weak every time the boy who brought them fish came to the yard. She’d had a sweet spot for him, always making sure that she was on the porch when he came by. Only this was no mere fish boy. Zane was a man, fully formed and powerful. A ripple of pleasure coursed through her belly. It was a foolish feeling and she knew it, but she allowed herself to indulge in the novelty for a little longer. After all, he’d be gone soon and she’d only have these moments to remember.
“Hello, Miss Winters. I’ve never seen you looking so radiant.”
Glory gasped as she turned toward the sound of the low, slightly menacing voice to see a man standing in the shadows.
Chapter Eleven
William Harvey stood inside the shop’s doorway. If the little bell on the front door had rung when he’d entered, Glory had been too preoccupied to notice. She couldn’t quite understand why her heart was racing now. He’d alarmed her, but it was only Harvey, not someone worse. Not him.
Her eyes drifted closed in relief. Clearly she was letting this mysterious letter get the better of her. Or maybe Zane’s overzealous vigilance was getting to her. He was making her overly suspicious that every shadowed figure that moved was her past coming to get her.
“I’ve startled you.” Harvey looked pointedly at the hand covering her heart before looking up at her face. She could’ve sworn his gaze left a layer of grime as it roved over her bosom on the way up.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” She held her hands clasped before her in an attempt to appear calm.
“I’m surprised to see you here too, my dear. I didn’t realize you offered tailor services to your customers.”
Harvey had a way of always trying to remind her of her place in the world. She tightened her mouth in annoyance, but tried not to show any emotion. Emotion was weakness to men like him. To all men really. She hadn’t met one who hadn’t tried to use it against her.
