“No, not prior to your arrival,” Jenny answered tentatively. She was clearly a little uneasy discussing her master, but Amelia was grateful for the modicum of information she could glean at all. “From what I understand, he would mostly stay in his residence in Mayfair and would only return now and again to host balls for the Season.”
“Is that so?” Amelia was tempted to question her further about that but decided not to push her luck. “Then I suppose there is not much you could know.”
“No, Your Grace.” Jenny paused. “Although…”
“Yes?” Amelia encouraged gently, not wanting to scare her off.
Jenny was avoiding Amelia’s eyes. “I admit that I do not know much about His Grace. But his invitation to dine suggests he values your company, does it not?
“I doubt that,” Amelia scoffed. For some reason, she found it easy talking to Jenny. “But I appreciate your optimism. And thank you for answering my questions; I hope I didn't make you too uneasy.”
“Not at all, Your Grace.”
Amelia gave a small, reassuring smile. “Have you lived in London all your life?”
Jenny’s eyes lit up at the question. She helped the purple dress over Amelia’s head and began to lace up the back of it. “Actually, I come from the countryside near Sussex,” she shared, and then went into stark detail about her life in the small village she’d grown up in.
"Do you have any siblings?” Amelia asked once she found a break in the conversation.
“Unfortunately not, Your Grace,” Jenny sighed. “Ma and Pa really tried again but they were never blessed with another child. I was never lonely though! I had many cousins and friends in the village to spend time with. I had quite the lively childhood.”
“What brought you to London then?”
“My Pa grew sick,” Jenny’s tone remained chipper, despite the topic. “He could no longer work the farm, so I moved to London to earn money and support them. I send back half of my wages to them every month.”
“That is very commendable of you, Jenny.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she responded with a modest smile.
“So tell me more about this lively childhood of yours,” Amelia encouraged and happily listened to every detail, pleased to find how chatty Jenny could become once she was comfortable. So engrossed was she in the conversation that she didn’t pay much mind to the task of getting dressed until Jenny trailed off, took a step back, and stared at Amelia from head to toe with a gaping expression.
“What is it?” Amelia asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Your Grace,” Jenny quickly replied, though her stunned expression did not lift.
With a frown, Amelia picked up the rather weighty fabric of the gown’s skirts and made her way over to the mirror of her vanity. Her jaw went slack at what stared back at her.
The violet dress was the most inappropriate excuse for fashion she had ever witnessed. It mimicked proper and fashionable evening gowns with the capped sleeves and the light boning around the waist. But the neckline dipped so daringly low that her bosom was all but spilling over the top. And, to make matters even more shocking, sections of the dress were crafted from white lace rather than muslin, showcasing glimpses of her skin at her waist, hips, and navel.
Amelia was left utterly speechless, her face flushing a deep shade of red. She… she couldn’t believe that she’d thought, even for a second, that Gideon’s intentions were pure. He had warned her that he was a rake through and through and he was making every attempt of showing her.
Amelia resolved there and then to never make the mistake of giving him the benefit of the doubt, ever, again.
CHAPTER 15
Deep down, Gideon didn’t think she would do it.
Amelia had shown her true colors as of late, revealing herself to be far more rebellious and stubborn than he’d initially thought. She was not afraid to challenge him head-on—when she wasn’t trembling like a leaf before him. And he struggled to recall the last time she’d regarded him with anything resembling fear.
What hecouldremember, however, was the overwhelming desire that had consumed him the previous night when thinking about her, driving him to seek release just to banish her from her mind. He had envisioned her in merely her undergarments, picturing her undressing until she was entirely bared before him. It had been a fleeting indulgence during a moment of weakness.
Seeing her now, the memory of that night came rushing back to him.
He swallowed past the lump quickly forming in his throat, captivated by the gentle sway of her hips as she approached the dining table. The indigo dress clung to her curves snugly, the small slivers of skin it revealed flooding his mind with insatiable desire. He leaned back in his chair, unabashedly studying her from head to toe, his gaze lingering a second too long on her bosom.
Gideon truly did not expect her to wear the dress once she realized how provocative it was. He was also secretly pleased that she had chosen to challenge him once again.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she greeted, her tone laced with frost. She gracefully seated herself opposite him.
