After escorting her to her rooms, he’d leave her with a tender kiss on her cheek.
And the growing frustration of unsated desire.
And the growing desire to do something about it.
“My lady?”
Hero started with a blush. “Yes, Mandy?”
Her maid raised a curious brow. “I was wondering which gown you would like for dinner tonight?”
“The pink organdy, I think.”
“Oh.” Mandy’s frown pulled Hero away from her own thoughts. “You don’t think so?”
“It’s a lovely gown, my lady.”
Hero matched Mandy’s frown with one of her own, wondering what had prompted such a response. The gown was beautiful. The starched organdy had a gathered bodice and loose bell sleeves that were perfect for a hot summer night. “I thought we agreed that in coming to Cuilean and given the heat of the summer, putting off my mourning would be acceptable as long as I wasn’t out in Society.”
“It’s not that, my lady. I was just thinking that perhaps the trio of ruffles at the bottom are a wee bit girlish?”
“Too girlish for what?” Hero teased. “Am I getting too old for a flounce or two?”
“Oh, no, my lady,” Mandy rushed to assure her, then bit back a smile when she saw the amusement on her mistress’s face. Emboldened, she added more confidently, “Perhaps the red silk?”
Hero's eyes widened. “The red? Isn’t that a bit sophisticated for a simple dinner at Cuilean?”
“I thought that perhaps Lord Ayr might appreciate the…” Mandy pointed with one finger to a spot low on her bosom.
Turning away to hide her blush and what it might reveal, Hero sat at her dressing table so that the maid could go to work on her hair. The maid brushed her long hair silently for a few moments until Hero found herself asking, “What makes you think I’m trying to impress the marquess?”
“Aren’t you, my lady?”
“You’re being rather cheeky.” The admonishment was stern, but Hero knew it wouldn’t stop her lady’s maid from voicing her thoughts. After ten years, Mandy often felt she had earned the right to her opinion.
“Look at him, my lady,” Mandy said as she twisted a lock of hair and expertly jabbed in a hairpin to secure it before moving on to another. “He’s what the maids in the scullery call a braw, bonny lad. It’s plain he’s taken a shine to you as well.”
“Is it?” Hero’s heart raced at the thought.
“Mm,” Mandy hummed in the affirmative as she braided a long narrow strand and looped it around the twisted curls. “Just as it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him.”
She cringed at that. “Is it?”
The maid only patted her shoulder. “I’ve been with you a long time, my lady. The others don’t see what I can. But why not take a chance with the marquess? You could do worse.”
“I’ve hardly been widowed a year.”
“To a man old enough to be your father,” Mandy replied promptly. “Think what it would be like with a man like Lord Ayr.”
Alas, that was all she’d been able to think about. His all too brief but tantalizing kisses and his promise to kiss her properly. What exactly did properly entail?
How could it possibly be more exhilarating?
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try something that would be more inviting to him.
“So the red?” Mandy said with a smile when she saw the light in Hero’s eyes.
“No, no, but perhaps the ivory silk?”
