Page 26 of In a Rake's Embrace
The modiste worked silently, her tape measure moving over Agatha’s waist, hips, and shoulders. Agatha could feel Thomas’s gaze on her, the weight of his attention tangible as the fabric that would soon adorn her body. She stood still, her bare skin prickling with awareness, knowing he saw everything—the curve of her waist, the flush rising along her neck, the faint tremor in her fingers, the globes of her buttocks and her thighs.
A few gowns that previous clients had failed to collect were altered to fit her on the spot. Thomas had her feet and hands measured, and the modiste called her assistant from the back room, who went to another shop to purchase boots, gloves, and other fripperies. When she emerged from the private room, she was garbed in a lovely rose-colored, high-waisted gown. New stockings hugged her legs, and a charming bonnet perched atopthe chignon Daphne had helped her arranged. Agatha could hardly recognize herself in the mirror’s reflection.
Thomas’s gaze swept over her once, a flicker of approval in his eyes, though he said nothing about her transformation. The modiste assured them she and her team of seamstresses would have the gowns ready in three weeks, and they left her shop.
“Madam Rebecca announced the auction is in three weeks,” Thomas clipped. “She claimed to change the date as the season is drawing to a close, and many of the gentlemen she wishes to attend will withdraw to the countryside if you wait beyond that time.”
“She informed me of it earlier. I believe I will be ready.”
“Good. My carriage will be at your disposal to take you back toAphroditeor wherever you wish. I will see you in two days for our next lesson.”
Agatha peered up at him. “Why not tonight?”
“I’m escorting my mother and brother to Bath,” he explained, and just as he finished speaking, a carriage clattered to a stop at their feet.
The carriage door swung open, and a young man with a cherubic face popped his head through the window, grinning widely.
“Thomas! I’m heading to your home,” he said excitedly before his eyes landed on Agatha. His expression changed, his eyes widening as he stammered, “She’s ... she’sbeautiful.”
Agatha smiled, her cheeks warming. “It’s always lovely when a handsome gentleman pays such flattering compliments. Thank you.”
The young man beamed like she had given him a pot of gold.
Thomas stepped forward. “Agatha, this is my brother, Lord Ronald.” He gestured to the woman sitting next to his brother in the carriage. “Mother, allow me to present Miss AgathaWoodville to you. Miss Woodville, my mother, the Countess of Radbourne.”
Agatha quickly dipped into a curtsy. It wasn’t as graceful as Bea’s or Ellen’s, but she felt she managed well enough. Ronald smiled broadly, but the countess peered down her nose with an air of detached arrogance, her gaze cool and assessing.
Agatha’s stomach twisted under the weight of the countess’s stare.
“Oh, is this a friend, Radbourne? You have never deigned to present a lady friend to me before, most astonishing.”
Agatha flushed, suddenly conscious of how she must appear to Thomas’s family. Did the countess think she was his mistress? The judgment in her eyes suggested as much. Agatha fought the urge to squirm, determined to maintain her composure despite the uncomfortable scrutiny.
“Lovely to meet you both,” Agatha said, keeping her voice steady despite her heart pounding.
The countess nodded stiffly, offering no warmth in return, and Agatha wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. Whatever they were, she knew this encounter had left an impression—one she wasn’t entirely sure was favorable.
“Go,” Thomas said, nodding toward the carriage. “My coachman is at your disposal. He has orders to take you anywhere you’d like in town.”
Her throat tightened, but she managed to smile at the earl and the countess, dipped into a graceful curtsy, and quickly made her way to the waiting carriage, conscious of his stare on her retreating figure.
CHAPTER 11
Agatha delicately waved her hand before the mirror in her chamber, practicing the graceful motion she had admired each time the earl had made it look effortless. She had been struck by how a simple movement could appear so refined. For the past two days, she diligently practiced walking more elegantly, speaking with a crisper accent, and refining her posture. Every detail mattered.
She had made full use of the earl’s carriage, taking trips to Hyde Park, where she observed the ladies of society as they strolled with poise. Agatha had studied their walk—the subtle lift of their skirts, the delicate way they tilted their heads when listening, the demure smiles they offered, never too wide. She even noted the soft, measured way they spoke, each word chosen with care, as though they were as much a part of their appearance as their gowns and parasols.
Earlier, while speaking with Bea, Agatha had noticed the spark of admiration in her friend’s eyes. And when Madam Rebecca heard her adopting the proper accent and tone, she gasped in surprise. Agatha couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as she moved to the bed and lay down, glancing at the notes shehad made from the etiquette books delivered to her that evening after their shopping trip. The earl had left a note, urging her to read them.
Each of the three books discussed the essential points of conduct expected of a lady in society. As she scanned her notes, Agatha smiled wryly at how much there was to remember. Some of the key points she had written down included:
-It was improper to express opinions on people and characters upon a recent acquaintance, even with a gentleman who might have won you at an auction. A lady should listen politely and never ramble.
-A lady must always walk with her back straight, her steps light and controlled, never in haste. Walking too quickly was seen as unladylike and lacking refinement.
-A lady should never laugh loudly in public. Like everything else, laughter should be restrained, more of a polite chuckle than an outburst.
Agatha snorted. It must be tedious to be a lady of theton.
