Page 20 of A Rake's Redemption
“Nae.”
He sighed. “You are quite stubborn, you know.”
“So I’ve been told,” Inis replied. “I willnae have ye be looking at me in my chemise.”
He looked amused again, but he nodded and spoke rapidly to the modiste in French before he turned back.
Relieved, Inis followed the woman into the back room where several seamstresses were busy at work. Madame Dubois clapped her hands and one of them came forward. The modiste spoke in rapid-fire French and the other woman nodded, then disappeared through the curtain to the front room where the bolts of cloth were kept.
A curtain partitioned off an area to allow for privacy in measuring, and Inis was grateful. She wasn’t a prude, but she didn’t care for snide comments made about her lack of feminine assets. In this case, though, she wore no stockings and the coarse material of the dress made her look like Alex had indeed taken her off the streets. At least Madame Dubois was professional enough to pretend not to notice Inis’s bare feet and the too-big faded chemise.
She gasped when the seamstress returned, nearly invisible behind a dozen bolts of material in an array of colors.
“I just need one dress,” she said.
“Monsieur Ashley wanted you to have a choice in colors and fabric,” Madame Dubois said. “Which is your favorite?”
Inis looked over the bolts the other woman had laid on an adjacent table. The materials—linen, superfine muslin, soft wool—were suitable for day dresses. No satins, silks, or velvets among them. At least Alex wasn’t trying to impose his idea for a full wardrobe, then. The colors ranged from pale blues and lilacs to light greens and yellows. Thankfully, the seamstress had avoided pinks, which clashed with red hair.
“The lilac, I think,” Inis said, fingering a bolt of soft, finely woven linen.
Madame Dubois nodded her head. “An excellent choice. Come, see yourself in the looking glass.”
Inis turned to the long mirror set in a mahogany Chippendale frame, balanced with four cabriole legs and sturdy claw-and-ball feet. Madame Dubois held up a length of yellow muslin. “I think this is a good color for you, too,” she said and then put it down to pick up a green. “And this shade is pale enough that it brings out the golden streaks in your hair.”
Inis hadn’t been aware she had any gold in her hair, but as the modiste spread out a length of the green cloth, Inis saw what she meant.
“Perhaps I will take that then instead of the lilac.”
If the mirror had not been to her side, her peripheral vision would not have caught Alex parting the curtain to enter the back room where she stood in a state of undress. Three things crossed her mind. She needed to cover herself, grab her dress, which was too far away, and bolt from the room, but her limbs wouldn’t move. She could only stand there and stare into the mirror, feeling like a wooden puppet whose strings were drawn too tight.
Alex appeared not to notice. “I found this out in front,” he said as he unrolled a length of royal-blue satin from a bolt and came forward to drape it over her shoulder. His fingers grazed her arm as he did so, the feather-light touch breaking her state of inertia. She felt his closeness and caught his scent—fresh soap and leather—as he reached his arm over her other shoulder to draw the fabric completely across her front.
“You see how it makes your eyes shine like sapphires?”
She hardly heard what he said. She was all too aware of standing inside his warm-scented embrace wearing nothing more than a chemise. She moved slightly, which was a mistake. Sweet Mary and all the saints. Not only could she feel the wool of his top coat brushing her bare arms, but she had backed against his chest, which was as solid as an oak door. Alex adjusted the satin, shifting his weight as he did so, his legs brushing the sides of her thighs. Her knees felt like butter—rapidly melting butter—as his body heat encircled her. She was quite trapped, not able to move forward, the strip of material binding her as surely as any rope.
“Absolu,” Madame Dubois exclaimed. “And perhaps a necklace of sapphires?”
Alex nodded. “I think you are right.”
Inis’s breath caught as he brought his thumb up and lightly traced her neckline. His thumb was callused, creating a pleasant friction against the soft skin of her throat. He leaned closer, and his warm breath teased her ear. “Perhaps a single strand interspersed with diamonds? Would you like that?”
Inis stared into the mirror and caught Alex’s gaze. His eyes looked more the color of a forest at the moment and one dark brow arched up in question. He was obviously waiting for an answer. What had been the question?
“Sapphires and diamonds.Parfait,” Madame Dubois said.
Jewels. They were talking about jewels. Her mind began to function again as Alex let the satin slip down and stepped back to fold it over the bolt. She reached for her dress and pulled it over her head, dislodging the pins that kept her hair somewhat in place. It now cascaded wildly in all directions. She tossed her head to get the long strands out of her eyes while at the same time trying to do the buttons to her bodice. Thankfully, servants’ dresses closed in front, and she didn’t require assistance. Her fingers shook, though, and when she was finished, she noticed she had an extra buttonhole at the top, but she wasn’t about to undo the blasted thing. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
“Sapphires and diamonds will nae be necessary, my lord.” She eyed the blue satin Madame Dubois now was holding. It really was a pretty color. “I will nae need a ball gown, either.”
“But you will,” Alex said. “I do not intend to keep you hidden forever.”
“Excusez moi,” Madame Dubois said diplomatically. “I shall go see to your account.”
Inis waited until the woman was out of earshot. “What do you think you are doing, Mr. Ashley?”
“Alexander, please,” Alex said and picked up her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “You will look beautiful in that gown.”
