Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(66)
While Monique chatted and showed her pictures of the new, heavily ornamented style of hems, Lily silently reflected on the events of the morning. She had dressed and left stealthily at dawn, while Alex was still sleeping. He had been exhausted, his tawny body stretched out among the white sheets in a long, unguarded sprawl. Ever since then, she had been wavering between uneasiness and a strange elation. It was indecent to have such a feeling of well-being. Undoubtedly she was being gossiped about in every parlor and coffeehouse in London.
But, amazing as it was, she had no regrets. She couldn’t help thinking about last night with a sense of ironic wonder. She would never have expected that Alex, with his cold eyes and remoteness, would have turned into such a tender lover, so erotic and gentle…even now, it seemed like a dream. She had been convinced she understood him, and now she was utterly confused on the subject of the earl of Raiford. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had to avoid him until her head was clear. Thank God Alex would probably return to his familiar life in the country, satisfied that he had received payment for his loss of Penelope.
Now she had to turn her attention to the matter of five thousand pounds, which she had to have by tomorrow night. There would be high-stakes gambling at Craven’s this evening. If she didn’t win the money there, she would pawn all her jewelry, and perhaps some of her gowns. She might be able to scrape enough together.
“…Can’t you tell me a little something about him?” Monique wheedled. “And without meaning to pry indelicately, cherie, what about the betrothal between Raiford and your sister? Does that matter stand as before?”
Ignoring the questions, Lily smiled wryly. “Monique, enough about this. I’ve come here to ask a favor.”
“Anything,” Monique said, instantly diverted. “Anything at all.”
“There is a masked assembly tonight at Craven’s. It is very important that I have something special to wear. I know there is no time, that you have other things to work on, but perhaps you could throw together something—”
“Oui, oui, I quite understand.” Monique said emphatically. “This is a great emergency—your first public appearance since le scandale. All eyes will be upon you tonight. You must have something extraordinary to wear.”
“I’ll have to buy on credit,” Lily said uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes.
“As much as you desire,” came the immediate response. “With Lord Raiford’s wealth at your disposal, you could comfortably purchase half the city!”
Lily shrugged and smiled lamely, refraining from telling her that she had no intention of being Raiford’s—or anyone else’s—kept woman. And that she had precious little wealth at her disposal. “I want to be wearing the most daring costume at the assembly tonight,” she said. “If I must brazen this out, I’ll do it with style.” Her only choice was to flaunt herself without a hint of shame. Moreover, she wanted a costume so completely distracting that none of the men she gambled with tonight would be able to concentrate on his cards.
“What a clever girl. Bien, we’ll make you a costume that will set the city back on its heels.” Monique regarded her with a calculating gaze. “Perhaps…it would do very well if we…ah, yes…”
“What?”
Monique gave her a pleased grin. “We shall dress you, cherie, as the very first temptress.”
“Delilah?” Lily asked. “Or do you mean Salome?”
“Non, ma petit… I am referring to the woman, Eve!”
“Eve?”
“Bien sûr, it will be talked of for decades!”
“Well,” Lily said weakly, “it shouldn’t take long to put that costume together.”
Alex went to Swans’ Court on Bayswater Road, an estate that had been in the Raiford family since it had been acquired by his great-grandfather William. The mansion was designed in the classical style, with symmetrical wings, Greek columns, and cool, wide halls of marble and white sculpted plaster. There was a large stable yard and a coachhouse that could accommodate fifteen carriages. Although Alex seldom stayed there, he had employed a nominal staff to maintain the place and see to the comfort of occasional visitors.
The door was answered by Mrs. Hodges, the elderly housekeeper. Her pleasant face, surrounded by white wispy curls, registered surprise at the sight of him. Hurriedly she welcomed him inside. “My lord, we received no word of your arrival, or I would have made ready—”
“That’s quite all right,” Alex interrupted. “I wasn’t able to send advance notice, but I’ll be staying the week. Perhaps longer. I’m not certain.”
“Yes, my lord. I’ll inform the cook—she’ll want to stock the pantry. Will you be having breakfast, my lord, or shall I tell her to leave for market straightaway?”
“No breakfast,” Alex said with a smile. “I’ll have a look around the house, Mrs. Hodges.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Alex doubted he would be hungry for quite some time. Before he had left Craven’s apartments, a housemaid had brought up a tray laden with eggs, breads, puddings, ham and sausage, and fruit. A man identifying himself as Craven’s personal valet had brushed and pressed his clothes and gave Alex the most precise shave of his life. Servants had filled a hip bath with hot water and stood by with thick towels, soap, and expensive cologne.
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