“But he hates me,” Meg had countered.
“Décolletage works wonders.” Lucy had winked at her.
The other ladies nodded and agreed with Lucy. “Men really are quite simple when it comes down to it,” Jane said, finally taking a bite of her coveted teacake.
“I must admit, there’s some truth to that,” Sarah said, biting her lip.
“Décolletage has worked for me in the past,” Cass added, shrugging.
It was unanimous, but now that Meg was sitting alone in her bedchamber with plenty of décolletage visible, she realized she’d failed to ask the ladies what to do if he didn’t even speak to her. Should she knock on his bedchamber door and show him her décolletage?Thatseemed exceedingly awkward. As the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of him, she began to wonder if she would have to march into his bedchamber after all.
Hart hadn’t come home for dinner. She’d eaten alone at the huge dining table with the servants giving her varying degrees of pitying looks. She heard two of the maids whispering about Hart, and the wordroguehad definitely been discernible. The consensus among the staff was that they’d always expected their master totake a wife and ignore her. His reputation preceded him. This was why Sarah hadn’t encouraged their match. Oh, why hadn’t Meg listened to Sarah?
Meg looked down at herself. Was she enticing? Was she desirable? According to her mother she never would be, but Lucy proclaimed there was no way her husband could ignore her if she wore the right garment. Of course Lucy had ensured shehadthe right garment. Meg contemplated the lovely lacy shift Lucy had had made for her as a (albeit inappropriate) wedding gift.
Meg had picked out a soft light-blue gown and matching robe, and ensured her décolletage was on full display, before she sat on the bed, attempting to read, and waiting to hear her husband come home.
As minutes turned into an hour, she had doubts he’d ever return, but before midnight she heard noises in his bedchamber and the unmistakable sound of him dismissing his valet. Confound it, the timbre of his voice still gave her gooseflesh. The man was being a complete ass but she loved him madly. Did it even matter anymore, why? Her heart belonged to a man who hated her, and she was about to stoop to trying to seduce her own husband.
After another quarter hour passed, she suspected he wasn’t going to come into her room. Very well, she’d go to him. Courage, Lucy had said. Be bold. This would take every drop of boldness she had.
She stood, set her book on the nightstand, smoothed her hands down the front of her diaphanous gown, and took a deep breath. She considered wearing her dressing gown over the skimpy concoction, but decided against it. If seduction was her goal, she might as well get right to it.
She made her way across the wide expanse between her bed and the door that led to Hart’s bedchamber. Blood pounded in her ears with each step.
When she came to the door, she took another deep breath before rapping twice and pushing open the handle with her sweating hand.
She took a tentative step inside her husband’s bedchamber. He stood next to the bed, his shirt and boots off, wearing only his breeches. The firelight glanced off his muscled abdomen and Meg swallowed. Oh, this was going to be more difficult than she’d thought. What if he refused her?
He turned to face her. “What are you doing here?” His voice was harsh, accusing.
“I came to… I wanted to…” She couldn’t force the words past her dry lips. All she could do was stare, fascinated, at his naked torso and the six muscles that stood out in sharp relief on his abdomen.
His eyes flared, possibly because of what was visible under her flimsy gown. She could only hope.
“Wanted to what?” His voice was still harsh.
“I thought perhaps…” No. She still couldn’t say it and she was turning red under her blue gown. That couldn’t possibly be an attractive combination. She needed to retreat.
“Perhapswhat?” His voice bit through the silence.
She clung to the last bit of courage she possessed. “Perhaps we might…”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you think I’ve changed my mind?”
She met his gaze. “Have you?”
He made his way toward her and stopped a pace in front of her. His eyes moved up and down her body.“Where did you get that gown?” he asked, the edge lingering in his voice.
“Lucy gave it—”
The flare in his eyes burned out. “Ah, Lucy. Of course, Lucy. Your partner in scheming. Still trying to help you, I see.”
She shouldn’t have mentioned Lucy. “You don’t like it?” Meg countered, lifting her chin even higher.
“On the contrary, what husband wouldn’t?”
She swallowed. “A husband who wants to punish his wife for something she didn’t do.” Meg had no idea where this defiance was coming from, but she would not allow him to control the situation. If he refused her, so be it.
