After a moment, Isla squeezed her hand. “Just think about it, won’t you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but went out the door, closing it quietly behind her. Once she was gone, Hyacinth turned back to the bed to find Jenny was collecting the gowns Isla had chosen, to take them downstairs.
The maid took up the sky blue gown, draped it over her arm, and—
“Leave the blue, Jenny.”
Hyacinth covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide. The words had rushed from her lips before she realized she was going to say them. “No, I mean, of course you should take it—”
“No, no. I can’t carry them all at once, miss. I’ll just come back for it later, shall I?” Jenny smiled, then hurried out the door before Hyacinth could argue, leaving the blue gown spread out across the bed.
Hyacinth stared at it for a long moment, then reached out and ran one finger down the gleaming silk folds of the skirt. It felt like a dream under her fingertip, as if the strains of a waltz had been woven into the fabric.
But then it was a dream, wasn’t it? That was all a gown like this could ever be to her.
Hyacinth dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. Such foolishness, to fuss over a gown she’d never wear, and really, it wasn’t so very special, was it? It was a blue silk ball gown, nothing more. Just one of at least five such gowns in her closet.
But even as she lectured herself for her selfishness, Hyacinth caught up the gown and crossed to the mirror. She wouldn’t put it on, of course—she didn’t fancy being stuck with dozens of pins—but if she just held it up in front of her, perhaps that would ease the longing ache in her chest. Then she’d see at once it wasn’t as special as she imagined it was, or meant for her alone to wear—
“You’re not giving that gown to my sister.”
For an instant Hyacinth froze, her eyes closing as the low, deep voice stroked across her nerve endings, but then she whirled around, and her heart leapt from her chest.
Lachlan Ramsey was standing in the doorway.
On theinsideof her bedchamber.
“My goodness! Mr. Ramsey, what are you…this is my bedchamber! You can’t be in here with me.” She stared at him, aghast. “You can’t be in herewithoutme, either! You just…you can’t be in here at all!”
Hyacinth was so shocked she hardly knew what she said, but Lachlan Ramsey eyed her calmly, and then, as cool as you please, he closed the door behind him, crossed the room, and took the gown out of her hands.
The slippery material slid through her nerveless fingers. “How did you know where my bedchamber was?” There were at least a dozen things—of far greater importance—she should have asked. For some reason, this question rose to her lips.
“I followed you upstairs, waited around the corner until your maid left the room, and now here I am. Nothing so remarkable in it.”
Hyacinth felt her eyes go so wide she was afraid they were about to fall out of her head. He said it so casually, as if he made a habit of sneaking about hallways and following young ladies into their bedchambers.
Then again, perhaps he did.
“But my grandmother! She’ll have seen you!” If Lady Chase should find Lachlan Ramsey in her bedchamber—dear God, either it would put a period to that dear lady’s existence, or else Hyacinth would find herself wed to the man within a fortnight.
“Youcannotbe in my bedchamber, Mr. Ramsey! You must leave, at once.” Without thinking, she hurried across the room, braced her hands against his chest, and tried to shove him toward the door.
He didn’t move a single inch. Hyacinth planted her feet on the floor and shoved harder, putting all her strength behind it, but it was no use. She’d have more success trying to knock over a stone wall.
He sighed, as if she were making a great fuss over nothing. “Your grandmother is in the garden with Ciaran and Isla. I told her I wanted a look into the library, and so they went on without me. We don’t have long, however, so let me make myself understood. You will not give this gown to Isla. I forbid it.”
Heforbidit?Heforbid it!
Why, it was no wonder Isla knew how to deal out a stinging slap when the situation demanded it. With her brothers, she’d had no choice but to learn to assert herself.
“Youforbid it? You haven’t any right to forbid me anything, Mr. Ramsey.”
Hyacinth wasn’t sure what response she’d expected, but it wasn’t the twitch of his lips, or the ghost of a grin that followed it.
“What’s wrong, Miss Somerset? Are youoverwrought?”
She threw her hands in the air. “You lied to my grandmother, followed my maid up the stairs, sneaked into my bedchamber, and snatched my gown away from me. Yes, Mr. Ramsey. I think it’s fair to say I’moverwrought.”
