Page 21 of One Night with a Prince
“The whole ensemble. Whatever it takes.”
Beaming her approval, Mrs. Watts hurried off to gather up her wares. While she bustled about, Gavin strolled up to Christabel. “Mrs. Watts works with a milliner and a cobbler who will make sure you have bonnets, caps, slippers, and any other matching fripperies. As for reticules—”
“My present reticules will be sufficient. I don’t need all that.” With a sigh, she turned from the satin as a pilgrim turns from temptation.
It reminded him of his boyhood, when he’d watched futilely as his mother tore her gaze from the rich gowns in shop windows that she couldn’t afford, thanks to Prinny. And that he couldn’t afford to get for her. “Yes, but you want ‘all that,’ don’t you?”
She lifted her clear-eyed gaze to him. “It doesn’t matter what I want. You’ve already spent too much as it is.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Her features hardened. “You’ll expect something in return.”
“Yes, I’ll expect you to wear the gowns,” he snapped.
“You know what I mean. And gowns weren’t part of our bargain.”
He frowned. The idea of her feeling obligated to accept his advances because he’d bought some clothes didn’t sit well. It smacked too much of a whore’s transaction with her customer. And Christabel, like his mother, was no whore. “Think of it as my way of atoning for my part in your current situation.”
“Is that what it is?”
“No. But if that makes you feel better—”
“I would feel better if you wouldn’t spend so much money on me that I can’t repay without…without…”
“Sharing my bed?”
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlShe stuck out her chin. “Yes.”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other. If I’m to convince Stokely to invite you to his party, you have to dress well. My reward has already been established; this is simply part of earning my barony.”
She eyed him skeptically.
His exasperation grew. “Consider it this way—if I didn’t spend money on clothes for you, I’d spend it on loose women, wine, and song. By taking the gowns, you’re saving me from other wicked pursuits.”
He bit back a smile. “And I know how keen respectable women are on saving men from wickedness.”
“Notthis respectable woman.” A sad little frown marred her smooth brow. “The last time I tried saving a man, I failed spectacularly. I don’t plan to try again.”
Haversham, no doubt. And why did her cynicism annoy him? He was just as cynical, if not more so. She picked up a monstrous reticule and a shawl she’d draped over a nearby chair. “Are we going for a drive or not?”
He eyed her reticule suspiciously. “It depends.” Before she could stop him, he snatched it from her and peered inside. Lifting one eyebrow, he dug out her pistol. “I’m not going anywhere with you carting a loaded pistol.”
“It’s not loaded,” she protested.
“Then it’s no use to you at present anyway.” He shoved it into his coat pocket, then offered her his arm.
“Shall we go?”
“Now see here, that belongs to me!”
“And you’ll get it back upon our return.”
She sniffed. “So we actuallyare going for a drive then? I thought you might have said that last night just to disguise what we were really doing today.”
“That was part of it. Iversley and Draker know the true situation between us, but I cautioned them not to tell their wives. So the ladies would naturally assume the worst if they heard about my buying you gowns. You seemed to be enjoying yourself at dinner, and I didn’t want to make things awkward for you.”
Taking his arm, she let him lead her into the hall, where the servants handed her a horrid black bonnet.
