Page 55 of A Rogue's Rules for Seduction
She shook her head, took a step back, and then another, before hurrying past him as if she feared what she might do when presented with dangerous temptation. The same temptation that continued to scorch a path through him.
He wanted her, that much was certain. It was as certain as the fact that she wanted him. But if they gave in to the hunger that blazed between them, there’d be no going back. She’d learn the truth about him, and when she left him, he’d be destroyed.
Chapter 17
Willa strode into the ballroom-turned-theater for the evening’s performance, heading toward the two rows of seats that had been set up for the audience in front of the lantern-lit stage, when a slightly panicked Tabitha rushed toward her.
“There isn’t a moment to spare,” her brother’s wife said. Tabitha cast a glance toward the other guests in their chairs, fanning themselves and chatting eagerly in anticipation of the entertainment. “Youmusthurry.”
With surprising strength given her scholarly inclinations, Tabitha grasped Willa’s arm. She pulled Willa toward the stage’s makeshift wings, which had been created by hanging velvet curtains from a quickly assembled scaffold.
“Hurry forwhat?” Willa asked.
“Mr. Longbridge has decided that he wants a tableau vivant flanking his scene with the baron,” Tabitha explained. She drew Willa behind thecurtain on stage left. It was shadowed back here, but there was enough light to see that fabric and a golden belt studded with paste jewels were draped on a chair. “Something to highlight the action onstage. Here—put this on.”
Tabitha thrust the fabric and belt at Willa.
At Willa’s questioning look, Tabitha clarified, “You’re to be Hippolyta. The belt is your girdle.”
“There’s a Hercules, I’m assuming,” Willa said.
“The ninth labor of Hercules, to be exact,” the other woman said. “The legendary hero was tasked with obtaining the jeweled, golden belt of Hippolyta, the queen of the Amazons.”
“Some tellings of the myth suggested that Hippolyta and Hercules became lovers,” Willa noted. “Then it all went to hell and turned into a battle between Hercules and the Amazons.”
“In that version, the hero slays Hippolyta.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “Typical.”
Presumably, the tableau that Mr. Longbridge desired only included the more romantic part.
Willa examined the filmy and revealing costume. It resembled an ancient Greek peplos, fastened at the shoulders with brooches of faux gold, and made of gauzy white silk. Whoever wore it would be quite exposed—but then, formal etiquette and propriety were two guests that hadn’t been invited to this house party.
“Hurry,” Tabitha urged. “The scene is going to begin shortly.”
“Whyme?” Willa asked, frowning. “There are other women who could play the part—especially as there’s no dialogue.”
“Mrs. McDaniel hurt her ankle and Miss Steele was too fatigued after the day’s labors. Make haste,” Tabitha added in an urgent whisper as the audience quieted. “Lady Marwood is about to introduce the scene.”
For a moment, Willa considered refusing. But then, what was the harm in it? All she had to do was strike a pose and hold it as Mr. Longbridge and Baron Hunsdon attempted to seduce each other. No one would be paying any attention to her, not if it meant watching two renowned roués work their alluring wiles on one another. And it was unlikely that any of the guests would return to London full of tales of Willa in a revealing costume, not when they’d all cast aside decorum themselves.
And Dom would see her in this scandalous ensemble. She played with fire, and yet welcomed the burn. Anything was better than this suspended state, balanced between the past and the unknown future.
“Help me with this,” she said to Tabitha.
With a look of relief, her brother’s wife moved to assist Willa in removing her gown and donning the costume. It wasn’t exactly easy to manage the task in such a brief amount of time, and in such a confined space, but in short order, Willa stood in thediaphanous peplos. There had been no hope for it but to remove her stockings, since they would have looked patently ridiculous worn with the provided pair of golden sandals. Hippolyta’s famed girdle was cinched about her waist, causing the fabric to drape most provocatively around her hips. Though she’d removed her stays, she still wore her shift, which might have spoiled the costume’s appearance slightly, but it was impossible for Willa to take the stage in front of her family with nothing beneath her long tunic.
“For Your Majesty.” Tabitha placed a paste-encrusted diadem on Willa’s head. “Now, the performance awaits you.”
Her brother’s wife motioned for Willa to take her place onstage.
Willa took one deep breath before striding out in front of the audience. She was alone, no sign of either Mr. Longbridge or the baron, and a tremor of unexpected nerves shook her as she felt the eyes of a dozen people on her. She was used to drawing attention to herself at balls through admittedly unruly behavior, but standing on a stage seemed entirely different. More exposed, somehow.
“Here’s Hippolyta!” someone in the crowd cried.
“And here comes Hercules,” somebody added.
Clad in a short chiton and draped in a faux lion skin, a bewildered-looking Dom emerged from the other side of the stage.
