No Groom at the Inn: A Dukes Behaving Badly Novella Read Online Free Page B

that Madame Fairfax happened to have on hand. The rest she’d promised for the following day. Sophronia hated to think of what the workers would have to do to make that happen, but she needed the clothing in order to make this work, so she couldn’t spare sympathy for a tired dressmaker. Hopefully the women there would be compensated. She’d tell her betrothed of her concern, perhaps ask him to send them some of what he had promised to give her. “And here are some of my disguises, so you can help me dress for dinner.”
    Maria followed her, her hand reaching in to touch the gowns with a near palpable reverence. “Oh, my goodness, these are lovely. Not only will we get our cottage, you’ll have these gorgeous gowns, as well.”
    “And no chickens to waste them on,” Sophronia muttered under her breath.
    J amie wasn’t prepared for the sight he saw as Sophronia walked down the stairs for dinner. He’d known she was tall, and slender, but beyond that, he hadn’t noticed much except her suitability for the task.
    But now, dressed in one of Madame Fairfax’s gowns, she was a different word than “beautiful”—she was glorious. The amber sheen of the silk brought out the gold highlights in her brown hair, and made her brown eyes glint gold, as well. The gown was simply adorned, something Madame Fairfax had insisted on, since Sophronia was so tall, and any kind of furbelow would make her look awkward.
    Jamie had to admit that Madame was correct. Sophronia looked like she was a goddess in truth, descended from Mount Olympus to take pity on mere mortals by blessing them with her presence. Her figure was flattered by the cut of the gown, the soft swell of her breasts showing above the fabric, the center dipping down in a V that made him want to see what was underneath.
    Her waist was tiny, and then the gown flared out below, no doubt hiding long, lissome legs. She met his gaze, a hesitant look in her eyes, and he felt his chest tighten that she didn’t know, that she didn’t enter the room knowing what she looked like, and the effect she was having on him.
    But given that this was an entirely fake betrothal, perhaps it was good that she didn’t realize any of it. He was intrigued, of course, but he most definitely did not want to become entangled—that was the whole purpose of this deception, to keep his way of life and make his mother happy.
    Although the thought did cross his mind that they were technically betrothed, after all, so he might have to do some of the things one did with one’s betrothed.
    If one were quite, quite intrigued.
    And not determined to leave the country at the earliest possible moment.
    “You look lovely, Sophronia,” he said, taking her hand in his and raising her fingers to his mouth. Her eyes widened as his lips made contact with her skin, and he wondered for a moment what she would do, how she would react, if he were to turn her hand over and press a kiss into her palm.
    And then immediately vowed to himself he absolutely should not satisfy his curiosity. It would not be fair, either to her or to himself, to mix that possibility into their business agreement.
    They were to be intimately acquainted for less than a month, and then they would leave one another, him to travel, knowing his mother was pleased, and her to her cottage, wherever that might be.
    “Let us go in to dinner. Mother is waiting,” he said, retaining her hand in his and leading her to the dining room.
    “Just one moment, please.” She sounded shaky, and he had to wonder if she was having second thoughts.
    “I don’t—I just wanted to say thank you for this.” She uttered a little snort. “Thank you for the opportunity to pretend to be someone I am not so I can avoid having to deal with poultry for the rest of my life.”
    That explained the chickens—somewhat. “You are welcome,” he said.
    “Only,” she asked, “what will you tell your mother later on? I won’t be in London when this is over. How will