Page 29 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel

“Are you wearing the dress I sent you, beneath that cloak?” There was a hint of suspicion in his tone, as if he expected her to have chosen something less revealing.

“I am.”

He gave a satisfied nod, and she took her time studying his own outfit. His coat was in the Italian style: a pale blue silk with floral embroidery at the sleeves, cut to perfection to emphasize his broad shoulders. His white shirt held a profusion of ruffles, its lace-edged cuffs peeking out from his sleeves, and a frothy cravat was secured with an aquamarine pin impressive enough to have been “borrowed” from the crown jewels.

“You look like a dandy,” she said.

On any other man, the ensemble would have looked ridiculous, almost feminine, but onhimthe flamboyant clothes only served to accentuate his intense masculinity.

The paradoxical contrast of hard muscle and soft silk, the impeccable contours of his thighs beneath his pale buckskin breeches, produced a swooping, quivery sensation in her stomach.

Ellie glanced down, fully expecting him to have jeweled heels on his shoes, like a gentleman of the last century, but his black court shoes were unadorned save for a pair of silver buckles.

His lips curved in a self-mocking smile. “Buonasera, mia bella.”

The sound of his sinfully deep voice made her toes curl.

“I’m afraid I don’t speak Italian. Only a little French.”

“I said ‘good evening,’” he translated. His eyes studied her face and ridiculous hair. “It’s a shame you dislike the name Nell. You put me in mind of Nell Gwynn.”

“King Charles the Second’s mistress? The orange seller?”

He nodded, pleased by her knowledge of history. “An infamous courtesan. But she was also a fine actress, praised by Samuel Pepys for her performances on the stage. Pretty, witty Nell.”

“I’m going to need all my acting ability to be Carlotta the Courtesan,” Ellie huffed. “I’m not as well-versed in deception as you are.”

“You’ll be perfect.”

She had no time to worry about it, since they arrived at the Willinghams’ town house in short order and she pushed aside her nerves as Harry escorted her up the steps.

A liveried footman took her cloak and she glanced at Harry as her outfit was finally revealed, keen to see his reaction.

For the briefest of moments, he seemed at a loss for words. His eyes roved her from head to toe in a hot sweep that made her entire body flush, and his lips parted on what she hoped was shocked inhale.

Justoncein her life, she wanted to rob a man of breath.

“I am very much regretting my promise to give up crime,” he muttered softly.

She frowned. “How so?”

Those wicked dimples appeared. “Because I want to steal you away from here and keep you all to myself.”

Ellie blushed, and took his offered arm, and together they ascended the stairs.

Chapter Fourteen

Ellie pressed close to Harry as they entered the crowded ballroom, her stomach churning with dread that she’d see someone she knew, and be recognized. The room was a blur without her spectacles, so she wouldn’t even see if potential disaster was coming her way until it was too late.

“Smile,” Harry whispered, leaning close to her ear. “You’re a goddess with the power to render men speechless with desire, remember?”

Ellie forced a smile, wishing it was true.

“It seems the Willinghams have some interesting acquaintances,” he commented, raking the crowd with his gaze.

“They’re not regarded as the bestton,” Ellie murmured. “Willingham’s a bit of a boor, and their support of Bonaparte didn’t help their popularity, so now you could say they linger at the edges of fashionable society.”

Harry nodded. “Shall we dance?”