Page 24 of A Rake's Redemption
Inis hesitated. She probably smelled like the barn. The maid was no doubt excited to open the boxes, but Inis didn’t want anyone seeing the blue gown. “I will do it after I bathe. I already asked for water to be sent up.” Elsie looked disappointed, but who knew what was in so many boxes? Inis didn’t want to take the chance on that. “I really do nae expect ye to wait on me.”
Elsie gave the boxes a dubious look as she nodded and left. Inis sighed. The servants would be brimming over with curiosity. She certainly didn’t want to provoke more gossip by keeping the contents secret. Maybe she could hide the blue gown and then ask Elsie to help her put away the day dresses.
Satisfied with that compromise, she waited for the hot water, then made quick work of the bath. Wrapped in a serviceable flannel wrapper borrowed from Elsie, she sat down on her narrow bed and pulled the first box toward her. It contained the light green dress she’d ordered.
The next two boxes contained day dresses in the lilac and yellow Madame Dubois had agreed would be good colors. The fourth box held the blue gown. Inis had to admit it was lovely. The high-fitted bodice had two layers of small ruched pleats that would make her appear more buxom as well as a fichu of lighter blue lace that would fill in for lack of cleavage. The same shade of lace trimmed the short, puffed sleeves and several narrow strips had been sewn onto the slim, flowing skirt. It was simple, but elegant without being too daring. At the bottom of the box were matching satin slippers that, to Inis’s surprise, fit perfectly.
She took a moment to admire the ensemble before folding the gown carefully and putting it back in the box. It seemed a shame to hide something so pretty, but it would never do to have the servants think Alex was purchasing a ball gown for her. Especially one she had no intention of wearing. She replaced the cover and slid the box under her bed. Since she cleaned her own room, it should be safe there.
She turned to the remaining boxes, wondering what else Alex had added to the wardrobe. She finished unpacking and then stood and gaped at everything lying on her bed. Lord have mercy. Madame Dubois must have employed a dozen seamstresses to get this done. There was a pair of long gloves for the gown, as well as a pair of short kid gloves and a pelisse of superfine dark blue broadcloth, warmly lined. What amazed Inis even more was the rest of what she’d unpacked. Two cotton-lawn night rails and a soft, woolen wrapper, matching slippers for her day dresses as well as a pair of half boots, several pairs of silk stockings, and three muslin chemises so finely woven they might have been silk. And pantaloons with pink satin drawstrings. She felt her face warm at the thought Alex had ordered those.
A small fortune was amassed on Inis’s bed. No wonder he’d said she would be employed for a long time. It would take more than a year’s wages, maybe two, to pay for all this. She drew her brows together. Had he done this on purpose so she would have to stay? He’d said he didn’t believe in indenturing servants, but what else was she now? Most of it had been custom made, so she couldn’t return it.
She’d hoped to save enough money to find a small place of her own in a remote village and be independent. Perhaps do some traveling eventually. Now those dreams would have to wait until she could repay Alex for a wardrobe she did not want.
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach, and she sat down on the straight-back chair next to a small table before her legs decided not to support her. When the rest of the staff saw the amount and quality of clothing, they would only come to one conclusion. Alex was lavishing a great deal of money on her because he had taken her for his leman, or intended to. The staff would think she had been given a private chamber on the fourth floor to make nocturnal visits convenient for him. He hadn’t assigned her any duties other than working with Goldie, which would also be seen as showing her favor.
Another thought crept unbidden into her mind. Was it possible that was what Alex meant to do? The idea was ludicrous of course. She wasn’t one of the big-bosomed women with a plump behind and feminine curves that men liked to ogle. Nor did she try to interest a man by being coy and flirtatious. She’d watched too many girls do that and thought the whole idea silly, although men seemed to fall all over their own feet at such interchanges.
Why would he even be interested in her? She wasn’t even sure why she was thinking about such a thing. Probably because of the incident in the barn earlier when he’d stepped close and lowered his head so she could feel for horns. Horns. She’d acted like a wanton and actually run her fingers through his hair. Sweet Mary. How could a man’s hair feel so soft and smell so clean?
A flush swept over her entire body, and she squirmed. Was he toying with her? He had a reputation of being a rake. Maybe he was one of those men who saw every woman as a challenge, like a trophy he had to win, regardless of what shape or size they were. Caroline had said that Alex hada listof female conquests. It sounded like they’d all been willingly seduced, too. Well, that wasn’t going to happen with her.
She looked at the clothing and sighed again. Just because she would not allow herself to fall for Alex’s beguiling ways, didn’t mean the staff would believe her. She might be able to keep the blue ball gown from being seen, but she couldn’t hide the rest of the clothes. The servants had seen the boxes delivered. Gossip was probably swirling about faster than an autumn leaf in a windstorm.
Drat the man for putting her in this position. She knew if she tried to explain—or deny—any interest in her employer, it would only make her appear more involved. She squared her shoulders. The only thing she could do was make sure she acted as prim and proper as a convent nun around Alexander Ashley.
…
“You have been nursing that drink for more than an hour,” Brice said to Alex as they sat at White’s that evening. “If you are not in the mood to drink or game, why not just go home?”
Because he was a coward.
Alex didn’t voice the thought, but he felt like one. How upset would Inis be when she discovered what he’d done? He’d scurried out of the house like a rat leaving the proverbial sinking ship before she’d had a chance to go to her chamber and see the actual number of boxes that had been delivered.
She had been adamant she needed only one dress. He’d never known any female that didn’t want more than one dress. He knew she had pride and didn’t want to accept charity. He wished he could simply tell her he had more than sufficient funds, thanks to a trust that even his brother couldn’t breach, to cover the costs many times over. But that would sound like bragging to someone who grew up poor. He didn’t want to insult her. He could offer to increase her wages, although he figured she’d probably be too stubborn to accept that idea. Or he could have Madame Dubois present him with a bill substantially lower than the amount he’d spent. Inis probably had no idea of what fine clothing cost.
“Your body is planted in the chair, but I am wondering if your mind has taken flight?”
Alex pulled himself out of his mental dilemma. “Sorry. I was thinking about cost overruns.”
“On which business?”
“Not a business exactly,” Alex replied. “Although I suppose in a sense it is.”
Brice gave him an apprising look. “Does this have to do with that Irish girl hostler you hired? And that harebrained scheme of yours?”
Alex nodded and took a sip of brandy. “How did you know?”
Brice grinned. “Fairly easy to figure, old chap. First, you take in an orphan girl. Then you offer to teach her to be a lady with all the trappings that go along with that position. It is only natural for her to take advantage of that. What is she demanding? Silks? Furs? Jewels?”
“No.” Alex set his glass down. “Exactly the opposite. At the modiste shop, she insisted one day dress would be enough, and she turned down an offer of sapphires.”
Brice nearly choked on his cognac. “No such female creature exists.”
Alex grimaced. “I can assure you one does.” When he finished telling Brice what had taken place at the shop and how he’d arranged for a few extra things to be made, his friend whistled.
“A few ‘extra things’ is not a full, costly wardrobe, my friend. There is not a woman alive naive enough to think such a windfall is not a bribe for sexual favors. Most women would probably acquiesce, knowing there is more where that came from.” Brice shook his head. “Somehow, I get the idea that Inis is not one of those females.”
