The Victorians were thought to be prudish, but historic drawers were akin to modern lingerie.Crotchless.It was practical, of course. Their dresses were heavy things, and being able to use the toilet was a challenge in such dresses.
That didn’t explain why a modern woman would wear such drawers, though.
Is this woman wearing crotchless Victorian drawers? Surely not.
Toni wanted to know, wanted to investigate the matter. Lesbian in historical garb? Yes, please. She looked like Toni’s fantasy come to life.
The woman’s gaze zeroed in on Toni like an invitation, and Toni was on her feet and across the pub before the thought fully settled. If the stranger was going to turn her gaze toward Toni, there was zero reason to ignore her. The woman was one of Toni’s favorite types—slightly shorter than her, fit enough that she’d be willing to go hiking or to the gym, and obviously possessing at least a passing interestin history, according to her attire. And the fact that she was busty wasn’t exactly a deterrent. Toni was always a little extra pleased when her lovers possessed a sort of pin-up girl set of curves.
More than a few people were looking at the new woman like she was a lost damsel, but Toni was certain that they were thinking more villainous than heroic thoughts.
Not that Iwasn’tlooking at her like a dessert in convincingly historical boots.
The stranger shivered.
And though Toni wasn’t sure if it was a chill or nerves, she slipped her blazer off and held it out. “Here.”
The woman stared at her.
“You shivered.” Toni’s gaze dropped to the woman’s chest, despite her best efforts. It was a chest that deserved extra looks, and up close, the dark areolas around pert inviting nipples were making Toni extra sure that she deserved an award for not staring. The stranger had glorious breasts.
The woman clutched the blazer to her chest like a shield but didn’t put it on. “Who are you?” she whispered.
“Antonia.Toni.” Toni took her blazer back and helped the woman into it. The sleeves hung over her hands, covering the large fire opal ring on her right middle finger.
When she pulled the front of the blazer closed and buttoned it, the woman stared up at her. “I’m Lady Adelaine Stewart.”
“Lady? Is there a costume ball nearby, Miss Stewart?” Toni teased. “You seem to have missed the evening gown.…”
“I was rehearsing,” Adelaine said, sounding more serious for a moment. “Stage production.”
“Ah.” Toni glanced around the pub. No one was watching them now, likely presuming that the not-quite-dressed woman was here to meet Toni, since Miss Stewart had stared directly at her upon arrival—and Toni had gone to her side like she’d been summoned.
I don’tthinkI know her.
Surely it was a coincidence. Her table was likely just the firstplace the stranger’s glance had fallen.I wouldn’t forget someone like her!Toni might have bedded the occasional woman whose name she couldn’t recall, but she didn’t forget the shape of a woman’s body—especially a shape like this.
“Did you mean to wander intothisbar, Miss Stewart?”
“I did.” She looked around, wide-eyed. “But…”
Miss Stewart looked as if she were on the verge of a swoon. She was obviously quite committed to her persona.
“Do you need an escort to a car? Or train?” Toni offered.
“No. I am here.” She straightened her shoulders, and Toni briefly cursed her decision to button the blazer. “With you, in fact.”
At a guess, Toni would say Adelaine was only a number of years younger than her own thirty-two years.Mid to late twenties?She had soft hands, the sort that looked like she’d never seen hard work, and impeccable posture. She was shorter than Toni, softer in some indefinably vulnerable way, and had the sort of mouth that was made for gasps of surprise.
In all, she was a Victorian historian’s perfect thirst trap.
A flicker of familiarity hit Toni. Had they met before? Toni hadn’t spent much time in Scotland. This was only her second trip. Maybe Miss Stewart was a type? Maybe she was a conference attendee? Toni tried to recall all the people she’d spoken to that day, the faces in the seats, and she couldn’t place Miss Stewart there.
“Do you live here?” Toni asked. “In Scotland?”
“Yes,” Miss Stewart said. “Why?”
“I was wondering if we’d met before,” Toni admitted. She didn’t exactly phrase it as a question, but she pointed out, “You seemed to be looking at me when you walked in.”
