Read Lady Myddelton's Lover for Free Online

Redgrave was a frequent visitor during the early days of my widowhood, and to her, we are practically betrothed.”
                  “Just who is he, exactly?” Another thought crossed visibly over his face. “And how old is he?”
                  “Oh, Richard!” She laughed, sitting up to look down at him. “Sir Carleton does not think of me in that manner and neither do I of him.”
                  “I like the way my name sounds in your voice,” He said abruptly, casually pressing a finger into the flesh of her belly.
                  “No…” She darted an amazed glance down his body. “You can’t—we can’t—”
                  “I can,” He said cheerfully, pulling her down to him. “And we can.”

Chapter 6
     
                  They managed to disengage from the delights of the flesh to dress as best they could and leave the drawing room before dinner. Her skin felt sensitive and flushed beneath her silk combinations, and she turned this way and that in front of the mirrored doors of her closet, moving her fingers to the pink scrapes on her neck from Richard’s beard. These were the most conspicuous of marks he left on her body, others being in more intimate, squirmy places she was shocked to think about. She laughed inwardly—she should be far beyond shock after this afternoon. The corners of her lips curved in an amusement she could not entirely contain, and as Victorine stepped into the room, her freshly pressed dinner gown hung carefully over her arms, Aline had to avert her eyes to hide her feelings from her lady’s maid.
                  As she dressed, she suddenly felt powerful and sensual, the tight lacing of her S-corset accentuating the curve of her waist and the thrust of her bosom and backside. The beaded and sequined overdress clicked delicately as Victorine lowered the emerald satin gown over her head and fastened the tapes at her back. Aline adjusted the fringe of silver and black beads spilling over her bodice from the décolleté neckline, shuffling her feet to disentangle them from the sweeping train covered with lacquered black sequins and bugle beads that Victorine bent to straighten and lay flat. The color of the gown heightened her eyes and her complexion, lending a rich, almost blazing luster to the redness of her hair. She twined a curl about a finger, wishing she could leave her hair down for the night.
                  Silly , she mocked her reflection; she was no longer a girl. Moreover, whatever would people say?
                  She sat to allow Victorine to dress her hair, her lids drooping beneath the very soothing sensation of having her hair brushed and combed, and twisted and pinned. She reached automatically for the rats of hair inside of the silver box on her dressing table, but paused, her fingers hovering over the bundles of old hair used to give body to her coiffures. Victorine waited expectantly.
                  “My lady?”
                  “No,” Aline closed the lid. “No rats tonight, Victorine.”
                  “But my lady, your hair will not ‘poof’.” Her lady’s maid looked offended by the breach in fashion.
                  “I don’t need my hair to ‘poof’ tonight,” She said firmly. “Something simple I think—a Psyche knot.”
                  “Yes, my lady,” Victorine said, though she looked disapproving.
                  She fastened a pair of diamond earrings to her lobes as Victorine placed the finishing touches on her hair and slid a comb with an aigrette feather into the low Psyche knot. Her lady’s maid clasped the catch on the diamond necklace about her neck, and Aline rose from the chair, collecting her fan and chain Dorothy bag from the table. Victorine fetched her opera cape and Aline looped the toggle closure around her neck, the black