Mandy thought on that, then nodded before turning to the wardrobe to pull out the gown. She eyed it critically but seeming satisfied, helped her mistress dress. Hoops and petticoats went on and then the two-tiered skirt. The overskirt was ivory silk that was almost the same shade as her hair. It hung over the apple green silk underskirt in a swooping scalloped hem that was trimmed in a long ivory fringe. The hem of the green was edged in smaller scallops finished with a wide green and ivory striped ribbon. The same green was also appliqued in long scalloped cutouts on the ivory overskirt. The bodice’s shoulder-baring neckline mirrored the scalloped hem of the skirt and was trimmed by a shorter ivory fringe that tickled against her bare arms. A green and ivory striped belt emphasized her tiny waist.
By comparison to the wide skirts, the bodice seemed minimal. A jade cameo set at the low V between her breasts that drew attention to the swell of her breasts. It was far more subtle than the red, but elegant and alluring nonetheless.
“Lord Ayr will be agog, my lady,” Mandy said with a smile as she set the latch on the matching necklace. “You are perfect.”
Perfectly attired?
Perfectly excited was more like it.
Chapter Fourteen
“Good evening, Lord Ayr.”
Hero’s soft greeting drifted across the first-floor rotunda, capturing Ian’s attention as he emerged from his rooms that evening. Across the hall he found her doing the same from her rooms on the other side of the grand staircase. Impossible as it seemed, she was even lovelier than she’d been earlier that day. Unlike the previous night, tonight Hero wore modest jewels. A choker of three pearl strands with a large jade cameo accented her long neck. Matching earrings dangled from her ears.
He thought that the jade would perfectly match the green edge of her eyes. Though the polished jade shone even in the dim light, her eyes sparkled brightly. He took a step toward her, but instead of approaching him, she indicated with a tilt of her head that she was going toward the Blue Drawing Room and walked along her half of the oval of the grand staircase, trailing her fingers lightly along the balustrade while he matched her progress on his side.
Ian watched Hero as she went, disappearing behind each column only to quickly reappear, casting him sidelong glances flirtatiously from beneath her lashes as she did so. She paused just before the halfway point of the oval near the drawing room and waited for Ian there. “Good evening, Lord Ayr,” she said with a smile as he reached her.
“Good evening, Lady Ayr,” he responded with a bow. “Thank you again for a pleasant afternoon.”
“Thank you for a pleasant day,” she countered pertly, reaching up to adjust his cravat. “Don’t you look dashing tonight.”
An inordinate degree of pleasure suffused Ian though the compliment was a standard one. Reaching out, he smoothed her hair from her temple unnecessarily, since every strand was in place, but he wanted to touch her and any excuse would do. Unable to help himself, he ran his finger down her long neck, bared by her bound hair. He would love to see those golden locks hanging loose about her. “And you are exquisite, though there is something in your eyes. They are dancing with the devil tonight. Why is that?”
She lowered her eyes, thick lashes fanned out across her pink cheeks. Her hands left his cravat to smooth down his shirtfront. “Oh, nothing really. Just…”
“Wondering?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. His pulse already racing, he bent his head to whisper in her ear, “Anticipating?”
She inhaled sharply and swayed toward him even while she shook her head. “Of course not. This is hardly the time…”
“No?” Ian brushed the back of his fingers down the slope of her bosom. “I shouldn’t take my kiss right here? Isn’t that what you were hoping for?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Not here. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He leaned closer, his lips just inches from hers.
“Yes,” she sighed, and he brushed his lips gently over hers, triumphantly claiming the kiss that he’d yearned for.
“Daughter, is that you?” Beaumont bellowed from the drawing room. “Come in! Come in! You simply must see this!”
Rolling his eyes, Ian shook his head at Hero. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to love him or hate him.”
“I did say this wasn’t the right time,” she teased, but there was regret in her eyes as well, along with lingering passion. Ian was hard put not to drag her off to his chamber and leave her father to his own devices.
She reached out and caressed his cheek, her lips parted as if she meant to speak, but the duke yelled once more. “I shall come in, Papa, only if you promise me you are decently clothed,” she said, even as she entered the room.
“I am. I am.”
Stifling his burgeoning desires once again, Ian followed her into the drawing room, only to come up short at the sight of the duke lying on his back in the middle of the library floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I say there, Harry, are you all right then?”
“This is the most marvelous thing.”
“Papa has been examining the ceiling friezes since he arrived,” Hero explained, biting back a smile. “He feels that lying in the center of the room provides the most advantageous viewpoint to study them.”
“Is that so?”
“Perhaps it was a good thing you missed breakfast this morning,” she went on, humor lacing her voice. “He took the opportunity to lie on the table to get a closer look.”
