Chapter 17
Seven
Bethany stared at herself in the looking glass, and then twisted around in an attempt to see the back of her new gown. Madam Chantal had emphatically assured her that the lower bodice and exposed back were quite appropriate for a married lady.
If said married lady wished to appear in public half-naked, that was.
“His Lordship won’t be able to take his eyes off you, if you don’t mind my saying.” Polly reached forward to smooth the skirt of the gown, which consisted of a brushed gold satin and a jeweled over-lace. Matching puffed sleeves, that weren’t really sleeves at all, encircled the tops of her upper arms but left her shoulders bared.
“I’ll need a fichu.”
“I don’t believe a covering will work with this style. And your back would still be bared. Best to leave it off.” Polly didn’t hesitate to voice her opinion. “Married ladies are allowed considerably more leeway in their manner of dress. You are no longer a debutante.”
Bethany practically gaped at herself in the mirror.
The effect was rather striking. And Felicity had essentially told her the same thing Polly was now.
Would Chase like it?
Pink flushed her bared cleavage and then crept up her neck and into her cheeks as she remembered what he’d promised they would do after the ball.
“Are you overheated?” Polly frowned in concern.
“Oh. It… it is a little warm.” Bethany quickly grabbed her fan and waved it below her face.
A knock sounded at the door to the antechamber, saving her from uttering further untruths, and a moment later, the object of her thoughts stepped inside.
“Are you ready? I’ve had the carriage brought around and your mother is expecting us.”
Chase, too, had apparently gone all out to dress for the evening.
His jacket was gold, although a few shades darker than her gown, and his waistcoat a pale yellow accented with mahogany embroidery, which happened to match the color of his trousers. When she finally got around to meeting his gaze, she realized he was inspecting her eveningwear as well.
“We match.” She laughed nervously.
His perusal caused her breasts to feel heavy, almost achy, and a warm longing built between her thighs.
“You look beautiful.” He didn’t seem to be teasing her for once. The compliment seemed sincere.
How many times had she longed to capture his attention in just this way, and yet the sensation was a surprisingly disquieting one.
She dropped her gaze and brushed at the skirt. Must every little thing cause her to doubt herself? “It’s new.”
When she looked up again, he was checking the timepiece hanging from his pocket. “Shall we face the music then?”
Ah, yes. Circumstances demand they confront the disapprovingtontogether.
What with reliving the kisses he’d given her that afternoon and contemplating the night ahead—not the ball but the actual night—she’d nearly forgotten that her family’s acceptance by London’s elite depended upon the outcome of this ball.
“I suppose so.” She moved to take his arm, but Polly halted her.
“Your slippers, My Lady.” The maid dangled two russet velvet slippers from their silk gold ties in front of her, unable to keep the amusement from her face.
“Of course.” Not a very dignified start to the evening.
Chase laughed softly even as she lowered herself onto the cushioned bench at her vanity. His laughter died off when Bethany lifted her skirts to tie the ribbon.
Was he admiring her ankles and calves? She drew her skirt slightly higher. And perhaps a hint of her knees?
