worst of the reeking foulness, and settled into it to think.
Her worst fear was that Julian would return to his rooms in the company of the demi-rep with whom he had spent the night. She did not think she could bear the comparison between herself—especially attired so indecorously in travel-stained clothes—and a beautiful, sensuous, sexually experienced woman.
So change into your walking dress
.
At least if she were dressed like a lady, Julian might be more likely to see her as a prospective bride. It would still be difficult for her to compete with a “beautiful, sensuous, sexually experienced” demi-rep. She threw out “beautiful” and “sexually experienced.” Julian would expect neither from her. As for “sensuous,” she would simply have to rely on instinct to guide her.
Eliza had no trouble getting out of Julian’s clothes. She brushed her hair, then pinned up part of it, leaving her face edged by wispy curls and a tangle of chestnut hair down her back.
Her pale blue merino day dress was horribly wrinkled from having been crumpled up in the cloth bag, but she hoped it would not be so bad once she had it on.
Getting it on proved more of a challenge than she had expected. Eliza was too used to having a maid. There was no way she could button up the dress by herself. It fell open halfway down her back, where she could not reach.
She stood pressing the square-cut neck to her throat, adjusting the short, puffy sleeves at her shoulders, when the doorknob began to turn. She felt a spurt of panic.
Oh, dear God! It must be Julian
.
She could not let him see her like this! She looked for a place to hide and realized how futile that would be. At some point she would have to come out and ask Julian to help her button up her dress.
It might as well be now.
She faced the door, her heart racing, her handclutching the blue merino wool against her breast. And waited for Julian to enter.
Eliza gasped when she saw who was standing in the doorway.
Chapter 6
M arcus stared, dumbstruck, at the half-dressed woman in Julian’s room. His body sprang to life, responding with decided interest to the female standing before him with tangled, waist-length chestnut hair cascading over her bared shoulders. Then it dawned on him who she was. And where she was.
During the hour he had been delayed helping to right an overturned cart of potatoes, and the gentleman’s curricle that was also involved in the accident, Miss Sheringham had somehow found her way here. And been ravished.
He felt outraged that Julian had taken such advantage of her, even if she was besotted with him. He searched the room for his friend, ready to seek an accounting on Miss Sheringham’s behalf. He would make sure Julian did the honorable thing and married her. Except, there were no dragons in sight to slay. Julian was nowhere to be seen.
Since he could not take out his temper on Julian, Miss Sheringham got the brunt of it. “Where is he?”
Miss Sheringham clutched her dress to her bosom. “Who?”
“The gentleman who lives here,” he said curtly.
“I have not seen him.”
“Then explain why are you in such dishabille, Miss Sheringham,” he asked in a deadly voice.
“Oh.” Her face pinkened as she grabbed at the puffed sleeves of the dress, pulling them farther onto her shoulders. She spoke with a quiet dignity that impressed him. “I was merely changing from Julian’s borrowed clothes into a dress, Captain. You burst in here before I was able to finish.”
He heard the accusation in the last half of her speech and felt himself flushing. He never flushed. But then, he had never lost the upper hand with a woman, either. Until now.
He had not stopped to knock before he entered. He had not even bothered to ask the hotel clerk whether Julian was in his rooms, because he knew his friend rarely rose before noon. Today he obviously had.
“How did you get here?” Marcus demanded, taking the offensive to rid himself of
Her worst fear was that Julian would return to his rooms in the company of the demi-rep with whom he had spent the night. She did not think she could bear the comparison between herself—especially attired so indecorously in travel-stained clothes—and a beautiful, sensuous, sexually experienced woman.
So change into your walking dress
.
At least if she were dressed like a lady, Julian might be more likely to see her as a prospective bride. It would still be difficult for her to compete with a “beautiful, sensuous, sexually experienced” demi-rep. She threw out “beautiful” and “sexually experienced.” Julian would expect neither from her. As for “sensuous,” she would simply have to rely on instinct to guide her.
Eliza had no trouble getting out of Julian’s clothes. She brushed her hair, then pinned up part of it, leaving her face edged by wispy curls and a tangle of chestnut hair down her back.
Her pale blue merino day dress was horribly wrinkled from having been crumpled up in the cloth bag, but she hoped it would not be so bad once she had it on.
Getting it on proved more of a challenge than she had expected. Eliza was too used to having a maid. There was no way she could button up the dress by herself. It fell open halfway down her back, where she could not reach.
She stood pressing the square-cut neck to her throat, adjusting the short, puffy sleeves at her shoulders, when the doorknob began to turn. She felt a spurt of panic.
Oh, dear God! It must be Julian
.
She could not let him see her like this! She looked for a place to hide and realized how futile that would be. At some point she would have to come out and ask Julian to help her button up her dress.
It might as well be now.
She faced the door, her heart racing, her handclutching the blue merino wool against her breast. And waited for Julian to enter.
Eliza gasped when she saw who was standing in the doorway.
Chapter 6
M arcus stared, dumbstruck, at the half-dressed woman in Julian’s room. His body sprang to life, responding with decided interest to the female standing before him with tangled, waist-length chestnut hair cascading over her bared shoulders. Then it dawned on him who she was. And where she was.
During the hour he had been delayed helping to right an overturned cart of potatoes, and the gentleman’s curricle that was also involved in the accident, Miss Sheringham had somehow found her way here. And been ravished.
He felt outraged that Julian had taken such advantage of her, even if she was besotted with him. He searched the room for his friend, ready to seek an accounting on Miss Sheringham’s behalf. He would make sure Julian did the honorable thing and married her. Except, there were no dragons in sight to slay. Julian was nowhere to be seen.
Since he could not take out his temper on Julian, Miss Sheringham got the brunt of it. “Where is he?”
Miss Sheringham clutched her dress to her bosom. “Who?”
“The gentleman who lives here,” he said curtly.
“I have not seen him.”
“Then explain why are you in such dishabille, Miss Sheringham,” he asked in a deadly voice.
“Oh.” Her face pinkened as she grabbed at the puffed sleeves of the dress, pulling them farther onto her shoulders. She spoke with a quiet dignity that impressed him. “I was merely changing from Julian’s borrowed clothes into a dress, Captain. You burst in here before I was able to finish.”
He heard the accusation in the last half of her speech and felt himself flushing. He never flushed. But then, he had never lost the upper hand with a woman, either. Until now.
He had not stopped to knock before he entered. He had not even bothered to ask the hotel clerk whether Julian was in his rooms, because he knew his friend rarely rose before noon. Today he obviously had.
“How did you get here?” Marcus demanded, taking the offensive to rid himself of
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