Maggie removed the pelisse and stood awkwardly as Madame Dubonet examined her. After a moment, the modiste nodded. “
Oui
, I think we have something that will fit her.” She snapped her fingers and dainty Giselle appeared. “Please search the storeroom and see if you can find a daydress or two that would fit Maggie.” She gestured to the maid.
Madame Dubonet took Penny back to the fitting room where Penny removed her daydress and put on one of the new ones. The modiste lowered the neckline so that it barely covered Penny’s zona and then pinned it in place. “You’re fortunate your maid is of a similar size and shape. Eventually you’ll be able to hand down your clothing to her.”
Penny nodded even as she told herself that if her plan succeeded, she wouldn’t need a maid or new garments.
Please let this work
.
Please let Revington fall in love with me so I don’t have to marry him.
Chapter Six
Marcus sat up and rubbed at the crick in his neck. He really should give in and purchase another bed. Or perhaps a whole bedroom suite. Even after he’d married Penny, they’d inevitably visit London on occasion and when they did, they’d need separate bedchambers.
Of course, right now, he’d happily share a bed with her. He got up and paced across the spare bedchamber to get his dressing gown. He’d been looking forward to that part of being married. She was quite an appealing female. He liked that she was no frail, delicate creature but fit and healthy. She rode a horse as well as any man he knew and yet when she climbed down from the horse, she moved with an elegant grace that was very, very female.
The tantalizing memory of Penny wearing breeches aroused him, and he let out a groan. He didn’t want to wait a whole month to bed her. Why the devil had he agreed to such a ridiculous wager? He wasn’t short of blunt, and he could afford to pay James to manage his affairs. But if he tried to get out of the agreement now, James would taunt him mercilessly and claim he was canceling the wager because he was afraid he’d lose. How ridiculous! Of course he wouldn’t fall in love with Penny.
It was true she was much more appealing than he’d anticipated. He found he liked her, which was remarkable, given how little use he usually had for women. But Penny was so practical and no-nonsense; it was quite refreshing. She obviously had a good head on her shoulders or the horse operation wouldn’t be so prosperous. That idiot Withersby clearly wasn’t responsible for that. It had to be Penny.
As he put on his dressing gown, he considered what an intriguing contradiction his prospective wife was—intelligent and capable but also touchingly naïve. He found her artless innocence quite arousing, and he was looking forward to teaching her all the finer points of lovemaking. Growing up on a farm, she obviously knew about sex. But he doubted she knew anything about the delicious pleasures the experience could offer.
Damn. At this rate he’d never be able to get dressed. He could hardly call in Bowes while he had a raging erection that even his dressing gown wouldn’t hide. For that matter, putting on trousers while he was in this state would be very uncomfortable. He must think of something besides Penny.
He’d focus on Horngate. The thought of taking control of the property aroused pleasure of another sort. He wished now he’d taken the time to look around and have Penny show him the horse operation. There was no reason to be in such a hurry to get to London. But at the time he’d been so keen to get the wedding over with that he hadn’t wanted to bother with such things.
And then there was the startling way he’d met her. He recalled the shock of seeing her come tearing up on that enormous stallion, her hair flying around her flushed, lovely face and her blue eyes sparkling. The graceful way she’d dismounted and then the striking picture she’d made in a man’s shirt and tight breeches. Ah, the breeches…
Bloody hell! He was doing it again! He’d have to think of something else. Something tedious and annoying. Like the fact that since he was stuck in London for a month, he might as well try to win some more blunt while he had the opportunity. But that would have to wait. Today he’d promised Penny he would show her the sights.
At last, with his thoughts suitably subdued, he rang for Bowes.
****
“What do you think?” Penny took a step back from the looking glass so Maggie could get the full effect of her new attire.
Her new maid shook her head. “I can scarce believe it’s you, miss. You’re a bloomin’ vision, you are.”
Penny shared her maid’s astonishment. She scarcely recognized herself either. Madame Dubonet had skillfully fashioned the dress to make the most of Penny’s modest bosom; a remarkable amount of cleavage showed above the rose-colored ribbon framing the gown’s deep neckline. The color was also skillfully chosen. The pale pink made her skin seem to glow. She gave a delighted laugh. “Now all we have to do is add the rest of the ensemble, and I’ll be all ready to go sightseeing with Mr. Revington.”
“You’re going to wear that now, in the daytime?”
“Well, it is called a daydress,” Penny responded to the Irishwoman’s shock. “Believe it or not, the gowns I’m meant to wear for evening events are even skimpier.”
Maggie’s copper-colored brows shot up. “La, miss, you’ll look like an opera dancer or an actress!”
Penny couldn’t help a small smile. “Do you think Mr. Revington will approve?”
“Approve may not be the particular word I’d use. But I’m quite certain he’ll take notice of you.”
“That’s the idea, Maggie. I want Revington to see me as a woman, rather than an awkward country miss he has to marry in order to acquire Horngate.”
Maggie frowned and drew near. “I hope you won’t think I’m too forward, miss, in bringing this up. But I do think there’s something about your plan you may not have considered. When he sees you in this gown, Mr. Revington’s likely to want to take you to bed, whether you’re wed yet or not. And while that might be the very thing to encourage his ‘fondness’, are you willing to go along? Because if you put out the bait…” She nodded toward the dress. “Then you have to deal with what you catch. Otherwise you’ll make Mr. Revington angry rather than pleased with you.”
Penny frowned and chewed her lower lip. What was she going to do if Revington decided to exert his marital rights before they were married? Maggie was right. If she refused him, he might be angry. And did she truly want to refuse him? The thought of being intimate with Revington filled her with foreboding, but also a shivery expectation. He was like no other man she’d ever known, so masculine, fierce and implacable. A stallion among a herd of geldings.
Suddenly aware of Maggie watching her, she responded, “I suspect you’re right. But if I’m to wed him, I’ll end up being intimate with him anyway, so there’s no reason not to go through with it now. As far as society goes, since I’m staying in his house without a female relative or a proper chaperone, I’m ruined anyway.”
Maggie smiled, showing her dimples. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his belly, but there’s no sign that works with Revington. Perhaps it’s another part of his person you must appeal to.”
****
He might have known she’d take hours, Marcus thought with irritation as he waited in the drawing room. Offer to take a woman somewhere, and she fussed and fiddled half the day. He’d thought Penny was more practical than that, but it appeared she was as tardy as other members of her sex. A pity if she’d already been corrupted by Madame Dubonet and lost that ingenuous charm of hers. He rather liked the grubby hoyden he’d met in the drive of Horngate. She’d been a delightful change from the coy, manipulative women of the
ton.
He paced across to the window to check on the phaeton and team. Hearing a faint sound, he turned. For a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His gaze moved down Penny’s slender form, then returned to the expanse of lush creamy flesh exposed by the low neckline of her dress. He swallowed hard, then choked out, “What the devil are you wearing?”
She gave him an innocent smile. “It’s my new daydress. Do you like it?”
Gone was the sweetly pretty young miss he’d brought to London. She’d been transformed into a sensual, sophisticated, breathtaking…goddess. It wasn’t just the lush décolletage the gown revealed, but the color of the fabric. Some subtle shade of pink that made her look edible. He longed to kiss and lick and nibble every inch of the silken, creamy skin the garment exposed. And then move on to the parts concealed by the soft, shimmery fabric. The very thought made him instantly aroused.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on Penny’s face. “The dress is fashionable, I’m certain. But if you don’t want to catch a chill, you’d best put on your pelisse.”
Penny hurried to do as he suggested. Despite having carefully planned this moment, when it actually came time to appear before Revington in the skimpy gown, she’d experienced an attack of nerves. It had taken all her willpower to walk boldly into the drawing room, despite feeling half-naked.
Revington’s expression had turned quite strange, almost savage. But then a moment later, his normal reserve had prevailed and he’d carried on in his usual impatient style.
She donned her pelisse and started for the door. Then she remembered the other part of her plan. Turning, she said, “I wondered if rather than driving today, you could have footman take the reins and sit in the carriage with me. That way you’ll be able to tell me about the sights as we travel through the city.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw; she wondered whether he disliked the thought of spending time with her. Too bad, she thought stubbornly. For her plan to work, she needed to force him into close proximity.
****
As the carriage wound through the vivid spring greenery of Hyde Park, Penny tried to assess the mood of the man next to her. He’d said very little since they set out, answering her questions, but volunteering nothing. Trying again, she said, “So this is Rotten Row, where the fashionable go riding?”
“Yes.”
Not much she could do with that. His refusal to contribute to the conversation was getting rather aggravating.
A moment later, they pulled up next to an open carriage. Penny couldn’t help gaping at the extremely heavy-set man wearing a daffodil yellow waistcoat. Was that how fashionable men dressed in London?
The man lifted a gloved hand. “I say there, Revington, you old dog.” He gave a terse order to his driver and the vehicle halted. Apparently taking his cue from the other driver, the footman driving Revington’s rig also pulled the team to a halt.
“Bloody hell,” Revington muttered. Then the next moment he said in a perfectly cordial voice, “Good day, Lord Haversfield. You’re looking well.”
“As are you, Revington.” Haversfield raised a quizzing glass and scrutinized Penny. “And who is that with you?”
Revington cleared his throat. “Lord Haversfield, may I make known to you Penelope Montgomery, my…er…fiancée.”
Haversfield removed the glass. He gazed at Revington a few moments, then chortled, “You don’t say, Revington. Wherever did you find her? She’s quite a fetching creature. A diamond of the first water.”
Revington cleared his throat again. “Our families recently became acquainted. Found we had some business interests in common.”
“Gads, but you’re a sly one, Revington. Why, if I’d known such a luscious bit of muslin was available on the marriage mart, I might have been tempted to get leg-shackled myself.”
“I rather doubt it. You’re not known for romantic gestures, Harry.”
“For that matter, neither are you. What’s the story here, Revington? Is she an heiress as well as a beauty? Have you finally decided to seek your fortune by less chancy methods than cards and dice?”
Revington’s voice became even crisper. “None of your business, my lord. And if you think I’ve lost my touch, how about a game or two. Say tonight at White’s?”
Haversfield shook his head. “I’m not that much of a fool. You’ve fleeced me for all you’re going to get.”
“Sorry to hear that, your lordship. Good day to you.” To the driver, Revington said, “Move on, Benjamin.”
“Good day to you as well,” Haversfield called as their carriage pulled away. “I’m charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss Montgomery. Hopefully I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Like hell you will,” muttered Revington under his breath.
“Do you dislike Lord Haversfield for some reason?” Penny asked as they left the other carriage behind.
Revington shot her a hooded look. “He’s no better or worse than most of his kind. Bit of a lecher though. If we go out in society, he’s the sort of man you need to steer clear of.”
“I would like to attend a party or two,” Penny said. In fact, she rather dreaded the notion, but having observed how Haversfield’s keen regard had aroused Revington’s jealousy, she decided she should take advantage of this weakness. “Given that I have a whole new wardrobe, it seems a waste not to make use of it. In addition to several daydresses similar to this one, Madame Dubonet insisted I must have at least two gowns for evening functions.”
“Of course,” Revington said tightly. He fell silent again, and a short while later suggested they return to the townhouse.
She agreed, with a stab of irritation. They’d been out driving barely an hour. Did he think that constituted seeing the sights?
Of course, going back to the townhouse suited her goals better than driving around the city, especially since he was practically ignoring her. Her plan was to seduce him so he would warm to her and possibly fall in love. It seemed rather far-fetched, but she had no other ideas. Having sex with him was bound to help her cause. It would force him to see her as a woman, rather than the unpleasant encumbrance he’d acquired along with Horngate.
Although the logic of her plan was clear, she felt apprehensive about carrying it out. The thought of being close to Revington, of being naked with him, filled her stomach with butterflies. She’d never even kissed a man, other than her father. As for the rest of it, well…she knew the basics, but not much else.
Her mind filled with images of Hero at stud. It didn’t appear that enjoyable for the mares, and she suspected they only allowed it because they were in season and nature drove them to do it. Did female humans tolerate it for the same reason—because it was some basic drive? Or did some, like Elizabeth Valant, enjoy it?