Page 23 of Portrait of a Lady
He studied his surroundings, taking in the view from halfway up the tulip staircase framing the entrance hall in a perfect spiral. The long-case clock on the landing chimed nine times, while the sound of low voices and shuffling feet came at them from above. His satchel hung limp at his side as he traced the pattern of the rug with his gaze.
After a moment, Patience called out that her mistress was ready. The footman muttered something that sounded like ‘bloody finally’, before leading Hugh on once again. He was directed to the second door on the right and abandoned in the corridor, both servants rushing back downstairs.
Hugh ran a hand over his lapels to ensure everything lay as it should before knocking. Evelyn’s muffled voice reached out at him through the door
He stepped inside with a smile, expecting to be greeted by a demure woman wearing a shy smile and perhaps a modest evening gown. What he found, however, was the opposite of that. His satchel fell to the floor with a thunk, his mouth dropping open so fast it was a wonder his jaw didn’t detach from his face entirely. The woman before him was certainly Evelyn, however, she proved the opposite of the woman he had met last night.
Standing beside the bed with one hand on her hip and the other braced on a post, she made him forget for a moment thathewas the courtesan. She created quite the wanton picture in a brocade dressing gown arranged to conceal and reveal all at once. It hung off one shoulder, low enough to display the top of her breasts, while remaining belted at the waist. One pale leg peeked out from the folds of the fabric. Her feet were bare, and her hair hung loose down her back in a silken tumble, a few locks resting against the exposed shoulder. His mouth went dry as he raked her from head to toe with his gaze, drinking in the sight of her while trying to reconcile this woman with the one from last night.
Clearing his throat, he stepped farther into the room and closed the door behind him. “Hello.”
She seemed to try to smile, but her lips trembled, so she schooled her face back into the placid one she’d been wearing a moment ago.
“Hello, Hugh,” she murmured, starting toward him with slow, measured steps. “I thought it would be more intimate for us to dine in here.”
“I see,” he replied as she paused just before him, placing both hands upon his chest. “I wish I’d gotten word of the expected attire. I left my dressing gown at home.”
Uncertainty appeared in her gaze for a moment before it was gone, and she began loosening his coat buttons. “Let me take your coat. If you are amenable, perhaps we ought to begin now and eat afterward.”
She couldn’t have shocked him more thoroughly had she slapped his face, leaving him momentarily speechless as she attempted to peel his coat off his shoulders and failed. Her hands shook as she tried pulling it past his elbows and found the tailoring too exact to achieve it without help.
“Eat...after?” he managed as she circled behind him and began tugging to pull him free of his sleeves. “Evelyn—”
“How do you want me?”
Her question stunned him into silence once again, and he could only gape at her as she came around to face him, reaching eagerly for his cravat.
“How do I—”
“Yes,” she said. “I thought perhaps for the first time you might want me on my back, but I want you to know I am not averse to exploring other options.”
What the devil was happening here? Evelyn had turned from shy spinster to coy seductress in the span of one day, a change that had him wondering which side of her was real. Thinking back to the gardens, he recalled her awed reaction to being touched and kissed, her shock at the smallest intimacies such as his mouth on her breast. No woman could fake those reactions with such sincerity.
Which meant she was putting on this performance for his benefit. When she went up on tiptoe to kiss him, arms wrapped tight around his neck, he detected the scent of sherry on her breath. Admiration welled in him, even as he lamented that she’d felt the need to get foxed in order to go through with this. He had to admit, he liked that she wanted to please him, but didn’t want her to become something she wasn’t in the process.
“Evelyn…”
He trailed off when she propelled him toward the bed and gave him a little push. Hugh went down with a little huff of shock, propping himself up just as she climbed over him. His cock leaped when she straddled him, settling against his groin at just the right angle. Were they naked, he could be inside her with a thrust of his hips.
“I saw a drawing in a book in which the couple were positioned like this and thought it seemed rather interesting,” she blurted, resting both hands on his shoulders. “But if you don’t like that, I saw another…”
She rolled from on top of him so fast he was surprised it didn’t send his head spinning off his shoulders. Then, in a move that might have made him laugh if she weren’t completely serious, she went onto her hands and knees.
“This one seemed rather primitive, but Patience swears it is most...oh!”
Hugh came swiftly to a sitting position as she swayed, overtaken by the effects of drink, and went toppling right off the side of the bed. He peered down at her, his brow furrowed in concern as well as a need to keep his face from displaying his amusement. To laugh at her now would ruin all the progress they had made last night.
“Evelyn, are you all right?”
She lay where she’d fallen, curled into herself with one hand covering her flushed face. Surprisingly, he found her current position most enticing, as the dressing gown had fallen open to expose her shapely legs.
“Oh, God...I’ve made a cake of myself, haven’t I?”
Propping his chin in one hand and staring down at her with a little smile, he shrugged. “No, of course not. I always fall off the bed after over-imbibing.”
She peered at him through the space between her fingers, like a child ensuring all was safe before coming out of hiding. “I thought the sherry would help fortify my nerves.”
“You were nervous?”
