Surprisingly, she realized that the shame and embarrassment she felt that she would feel… were conspicuously absent. In their place was a languor she’d never known before, a sense of rightness.
Tenderly, she stroked through his hair, the thick dark hair slid through her fingers like rough silk. He lifted his head, and, staring into his glimmering gem eyes, she smiled.
“Lessons, you say?” she asked.
“It is the best way to get you acclaimed to sexual pleasure,” he said while sitting up.
Rubbing her throat, Ariadne asked, “… When is the next lesson?”
Cedric roared with laughter while he pulled her to his side. “I’ve created a monster.”
“So,” Clara rested her teacup down. “I must ask, your message was unclear. What do you mean by needing nightclothes?”
It was two days after her first tryst with Cedric, and while she treasured that moment, she did not forget his comment about her nightclothes.
“It seems my nightclothes are… voluminous.” She said bashfully.
Clara’s delicate brows knotted in two, “How big are they?”
“Come with me?” Ariadne stood and left the tearoom for her bedroom while Clara was in step with her.
Entering the bedchamber, she headed to her wardrobe while Clara’s eyes roamed over the walls and furniture, even stepping forward to trace her fingers over the gilt on a framed portrait.
Finding one of the garments in question, Ariadne turned around and unfurled the night-rail. “This is what I mean.”
Clara’s mouth dropped, “How many—how many flounces and frills are on that thing?” She stepped forward and grasped the body of the nightgown. “This has enough cloth, ruffles, flounces,and trimmings to adorn every girl in the orphanage you patronize. How many buttons are on this?”
“I don’t know,” Ariadne sighed, “Growing up, this is all the style I knew.”
“Fifteen,” Clara gasped in horror. “Fifteen buttons. Goodness gracious. It’s an army of restriction.”
“Restriction?” Ariadne blinked.
Clara folded the nightgown. “What if your husband has one of those moments whenardortakes over, and he wants to initiate intimacy, and this is what he has to battle with? It goes up to your neck, Ariadne.”
She reddened. “I was told modesty was the best attribute in a marriage.”
“Outside, yes.” Clara chuckled, “But not in the bedroom. Please do not tell me that you have drawers with this, too.”
“Erm, yes,” Ariadne replied, her face positively aflame. “The point is, I need your help to find a way where he overlooks these things?”
“I have a way,” Clara laughed, “It involves a firepit and a match.”
Sinking to a seat, Ariadne covered her face with both hands, “Oh, God.”
Her friend dropped a soft hand on her shoulder, “Don’t get your hair in a twist. I know exactly where to go to help. But I must ask, do you only want nightclothes?”
It took her a moment to get her friend's meaning. “You think my dresses are not good enough?”
Clara gave her a sympathetic smile, “They are a bit homey and dated, for your position, I think you need to get a step above the rest.” Seated near her, Clara said, “Knowing your circumstances and the talk about you that is already circling the Ton, you do not need to give them another reason to gossip.”
Ariadne was not so sure about that.
“Let's start with the nightclothes first,” she said.
“The modiste on Bond Street,” Clara said. “At first, she started only with unmentionables, but she does gowns if she is persuaded enough.”
“That sounds…” Ariadne didn’t know the fitting word. “…challenging. Is it hard to get an appointment?”
