Page 18 of A Rake's Redemption
“I willnae be needing avariety, now will I? Ye gave me your word nae ten minutes ago ye would nae push me into Society. All I need is one or two simple day dresses.”
She needed a lot more than that, but a man needed to pick his battles. “Fine. Day dresses for now. I still want to purchase them. Shall we plan on going to the shops tomorrow about eleven o’clock?” Inis looked unsettled. For a moment, he thought she might refuse, but then she nodded.
“Eleven o’clock.”
Alex nodded back, not wanting to make any further gaffes. But as he turned away, he could imagine exactly how she’d look in one of those negligees.
Chapter Six
Inis stared after Alex as he left the stable. Had she just seen a smile on his face before he turned around? Or maybe it was a smirk. She frowned and jabbed the shovel under a load of muck and threw it on top of the pile. He really didn’t have to go on and on about how much he wouldn’t think about making her one of his bed partners. She knew she lacked the lush curves men wanted in women they took to their beds.
Notthat she wished to be taken to Alex’s bed. Of course she didn’t. Sweet Mary. According to his friend Caroline, the man was a notorious rake. Inis tossed another shovelful of manure. A rake with a bevy of admiring females. Females who actually formed a club so they could talk about his skills and prowess.
She paused and frowned again. Like what kind of skills? She had seen plenty of animals rutting during mating season. Not terribly appealing. She’d also stumbled upon a milkmaid and a stable boy once in a barn on her uncle’s country estate. The maid’s skirts had been hiked up and the boy’s breeches were down, his white arse rising and lowering like a pump handle. They were both grunting like swine at a trough and neither of them had seen or heard her. Inis hadn’t found the scene particularly appealing, either. She certainly didn’t understand why anyone would want to talk about such a thing, let alone brag on it. Most of Irish aristocratic women were jaded and cynical, and Inis suspected the English women would be even more. What did Alexander Ashleydothat made the ladies atwitter and want to compete with each other for his return to their beds?
She laid the shovel aside and went to fetch a wheelbarrow. She wouldn’t deny that Alex was attractive with his high cheekbones, straight nose, and full, wide mouth, or the way his longish dark hair fell over his forehead. She’d have to be stumbling-about-in-the-dark blind not to see that. He moved with feline grace, too, in spite of being tall and broad of shoulder. Young debutantes probably sighed and near swooned when he signed their dance cards, thinking him a courtly knight. He certainly was smooth with words and was quick witted—although she did wonder about his wits when it came to this scheme of his.
He was also a gambler. She was living proof of that since he’d won her in a wager. Alexander Ashley apparently liked high stakes and high risks as well, since not only was he playing with flames, he was setting fires by systematically cuckolding the nobility. Taking their wives to bed was bad enough, but then gifting each of them with a negligee?Identicalnegligees. What if their titled husbands ever found out?
She shook her head to clear it. What the man did was none of her business. He was, first and foremost, an obvious rake who managed to captivate women with his charm. She would not allow herself to fall under the spell he used to mesmerize those other women. Tomorrow, she would allow him to purchase one dress for her and she would pay him back. And they wouldn’t even look at night rails…silk, lace, or otherwise.
…
Alex walked toward the foyer at five minutes before eleven o’clock the next morning, wondering how long Inis would make him wait. Most women considered twenty to thirty minutes a minimum before they put in an appearance, so he was pleasantly surprised to see her already standing in the hall when he arrived.
He eyed the poorly fitted dress she wore. The simple muslin garment belonged to Fern, one of Alex’s maids, and it hung as loosely as a sack on Inis’s slight frame. He would have sent a note to Caroline to borrow one of her gowns for this excursion, but Caroline was much taller and even more buxom than Fern. Inis would have looked even more the waif than she did now. He glanced down at her feet, relieved that she wore the slippers he’d also rewarded Fern generously for, although he could see they were several sizes too large as well.
“I would really prefer to wear my own clothes,” Inis said, as though she had read his thoughts.
Alex shook his head. “Riding in breeches is one thing. Parading you on Regent Street in them is quite another. Better no one takes notice of you.”
“I doona think I will blend in dressed like this, either.”
“We only have to get you from the carriage to the modiste shop.” Alex handed her a shawl he’d borrowed from Elsie. “You will have your own clothing from which to choose soon enough.”
“One dress will suffice,” Inis said and raised a foot, only to have the slipper dangle off her toes. “And perhaps a pair of shoes.”
Bloody hell. She wasn’t wearing any stockings. He could see the delicate bones of her ankle and the fair skin of her slim foot. His cock jerked as he thought about running his hand along her naked calf and up her thigh. Alex swallowed hard. “You will get blisters without stockings.”
“I doona have any,” Inis replied. “My wool socks would nae fit inside the slippers so I went without.”
She probably wasn’t wearing pantaloons, either. He managed—barely—to push aside the carnal thought of finding the warmth at the apex of those slender legs. His wayward shaft jerked again, and he quickly grabbed his overcoat from the rack by the door to cover his growing bulge. “We had best be on our way.”
Inis followed him down the steps to where his coach and two matched chestnuts waited. She started toward the horses to check the hitches, but he put his hand on her arm. “You are not the horse handler on this trip.”
She lowered her brows. “’Tis a precaution.”
“And a good one if we were going to journey out of town,” Alex replied, “but I can assure you we will not be moving faster than a turtle can crawl once we get close to Regent Street. The carriage could probably lose all four wheels, and we’d only feel a slight bump as it stopped.”
“I hope that does nae happen, just the same,” Inis answered and opened the carriage door to pull down the step.
Alex stepped forward and offered his hand. “Let me help you.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “Ye doona think I can step into a carriage by myself?”
“I am quite sure that you can, but ladies always accept a gentleman’s assistance.” Alex smiled. “First lesson.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it and put her hand in his. It felt small in his, but the grip of her fingers closing over his palm was surprisingly strong. He could also feel the beginnings of calluses on the tips and made a mental note to purchase a pair of durable leather gloves for her to use.
