Page 16 of In a Rake's Embrace
Her eyes widened as though the idea had never occurred to her. “Shopping?”
“Yes,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “The madam’s modiste will likely dress you like a courtesan, designed to lure men in with obvious displays of flesh. But that’s not the image you should project.”
She blinked, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What image should I project, then?”
Thomas studied her for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll have you dressed like a lady,” he said. “But one with just a hint of sensuality. That dichotomy will intrigue men far more than if you were paraded about like one of the ladies here. You need to be different and the subtlety of it will drive them mad.”
Her blush deepened, and she glanced away, clearly flustered. “I hadn’t considered that ...”
“That’s why you have me,” he replied smoothly, returning to his seat. “You need to stand apart. The men here expect indulgence, but they also crave something more ... elusive. And you, Miss Woodville, will become a mystery they’ll pay any sum to unravel.”
She swallowed, looking torn between discomfort and fascination. Her eyes were so damn expressive, revealing the emotions dancing behind their shimmering depths to anyone observant enough to notice.
“But I don’t have the money to procure such a wardrobe. Madam Rebecca said she would advance a modest sum as an investor in this venture, but I do not believe it will cover even one of the gowns ladies of high society wear.”
“As it is my suggestion,” he said coolly, “you will leave this to me.”
Miss Woodville stared at him, her hands twisting together in front of her. After a long moment, she nodded. “I will.”
Thomas smiled. “Good. We’ll arrange a private session tomorrow with one of theton’s most sought-after modistes.”
“Please tell me how I can repay your generosity.”
“There is no repayment needed.”
She shook her head, a small frown pleating her brow. “This is illogical. You do not know me ... yet you are so kind.”
Thomas scoffed. “I am simply a man who likes to do things thoroughly. Do not read it to be more than what it is.”
“I see.” She canted her head. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Thomas ... call me by my name.”
That delicate flush swept up her neck to her face once more. “Thomas. I ... I am Agatha. My family calls me Aga.”
“Let us start your first lesson, Agatha.”
She smiled and sauntered closer. “I am ready.”
Holding her gaze for several moments, he softly said, “Remove all your clothes and boots. Remain in your stockings only.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. “My chemisette as well?”
“Only the stockings will remain.”
After what felt like an eternity, she lifted her trembling fingers to her mouth and muttered, “Yes, I can do that.”
He watched in sheer fascination as she began to pace, talking to herself like he wasn’t in the room.
“Those statues are practically naked, and I look at them all the time. It’sperfectlynormal.” She folded her arms under her bosom, her pacing growing more frantic.
Thomas leaned back against the sofa, bemused by the gentle amusement curling through him.
“There was that time I jumped into the lake! I was nearly naked!” she snapped, as if trying to convince herself. “This is the same.”
With a sharp turn, she faced him, her chin jutting forward in defiance of her own sensibilities. Agatha stooped down and unlaced her boots, tugging them off with hasty motions. Next, she dragged her simple, worn dress over her head, revealing stockings riddled with holes. Even the thin white shift she wore beneath her gown looked as if it would fall apart at any moment. She gripped the hem of the shift, met his gaze, and began to lift it. A sharp tremor ran through her, and her eyes widened in sudden alarm. A small squeak escaped her lips.
