laughing eyes was right. What choice did she have? The longer she remained here, the sooner her absence would be noted. And Hannah had no wish to incite her uncle’s wrath.
After a slow breath, during which she questioned her sanity, Hannah replied, “The clasp of my garter is pinching my skin. I cannot release it without making it worse.”
“Then you are in luck, sweet damsel, for I happen to know my way around lady’s garters quite well. I shall have you freed in no time.”
Before she could think twice or attempt to stop him, he took two long strides to her side and lowered himself to one knee. He smiled up at her with his hand hovering over her skirts; those green eyes boldly meeting hers.
“May I?” he asked. His voice was low, almost intimate if not for the humor still present in its layered tones.
Hannah stared at him, her body taut and resistant except for the wild flutter racing through her insides. “Just do it,” she whispered. She glanced away from him to study the grain pattern in the wood paneling on the wall beside her. “Quickly, please.”
“Is it your right or left leg?” he inquired casually, as though he did this sort of thing all the time.
“Right,” she answered with a tight jaw.
Rather than raising her skirts as she had done and as she expected, he reached beneath its embroidered hem. Hannah felt the lightest brush of his fingers over the delicate bones of her ankle before he moved his warm palm up the curve of her calf. Hannah pressed her tongue firmly against the back of her teeth, resisting the urge to jump out of his reach.
It was disconcerting in the oddest way to have a gentleman kneeling at her side, reaching beneath her skirts while she just stood there allowing it.
She must have lost her mind.
His touch was self-assured and unhurried as he wrapped his hand around her leg. The tips of his fingers tickled a sensitive spot behind her knee and Hannah instinctively pulled away. It was only a very slight movement, but it was enough for the garter to twist so sharply a small sound of pain escaped her throat.
If not for his firm grip around her knee, she likely would have stumbled.
“Easy, sweetheart. Almost there.”
His voice was soothing, as though he spoke to a skittish horse.
On one level, Hannah rejected the patronizing tone as righteous pride rose in her chest. But on another level, a deeper and more visceral level, the tactic worked and she felt her muscles softening. Of course, the fact that he moved his hands over her limb with such gentle pressure and tantalizing confidence may also have contributed to the easing of tension in her body.
As he smoothed his hand higher, she felt a teasing brush against the bare skin of her thigh, causing gooseflesh to spread over her body. In the very next second, pain flared where the clasp of her garter caught her flesh.
He paused his tactile exploration the moment she drew in the swift breath.
“It seems this task will require some visualization,” he explained.
“Drat,” Hannah muttered before she could stop herself. She had gone this far, may as well see it through. “Just get it done, please.”
She kept her gaze trained on the wall as she felt him lift her skirts with his free hand. The air against her silk-clad legs sent a delicate shiver across her skin. She wondered if other young ladies making their London debut had to suffer such humiliating indignities.
Likely not.
Such a thing seemed specifically suited for her.
Just one of the many ridiculous faux pas she had committed since arriving in England two years ago. Except this was a little different in that she knew the impropriety of allowing a man to touch her in such a way, let alone view her nearly naked limbs.
If anyone should find out…
Maybe she would be sent back to her parents?
The possibility had merit.
Hannah winced as he probed around the clasp with gentle pressure. Though he was obviously trying to be careful, his touch still increased her
After a slow breath, during which she questioned her sanity, Hannah replied, “The clasp of my garter is pinching my skin. I cannot release it without making it worse.”
“Then you are in luck, sweet damsel, for I happen to know my way around lady’s garters quite well. I shall have you freed in no time.”
Before she could think twice or attempt to stop him, he took two long strides to her side and lowered himself to one knee. He smiled up at her with his hand hovering over her skirts; those green eyes boldly meeting hers.
“May I?” he asked. His voice was low, almost intimate if not for the humor still present in its layered tones.
Hannah stared at him, her body taut and resistant except for the wild flutter racing through her insides. “Just do it,” she whispered. She glanced away from him to study the grain pattern in the wood paneling on the wall beside her. “Quickly, please.”
“Is it your right or left leg?” he inquired casually, as though he did this sort of thing all the time.
“Right,” she answered with a tight jaw.
Rather than raising her skirts as she had done and as she expected, he reached beneath its embroidered hem. Hannah felt the lightest brush of his fingers over the delicate bones of her ankle before he moved his warm palm up the curve of her calf. Hannah pressed her tongue firmly against the back of her teeth, resisting the urge to jump out of his reach.
It was disconcerting in the oddest way to have a gentleman kneeling at her side, reaching beneath her skirts while she just stood there allowing it.
She must have lost her mind.
His touch was self-assured and unhurried as he wrapped his hand around her leg. The tips of his fingers tickled a sensitive spot behind her knee and Hannah instinctively pulled away. It was only a very slight movement, but it was enough for the garter to twist so sharply a small sound of pain escaped her throat.
If not for his firm grip around her knee, she likely would have stumbled.
“Easy, sweetheart. Almost there.”
His voice was soothing, as though he spoke to a skittish horse.
On one level, Hannah rejected the patronizing tone as righteous pride rose in her chest. But on another level, a deeper and more visceral level, the tactic worked and she felt her muscles softening. Of course, the fact that he moved his hands over her limb with such gentle pressure and tantalizing confidence may also have contributed to the easing of tension in her body.
As he smoothed his hand higher, she felt a teasing brush against the bare skin of her thigh, causing gooseflesh to spread over her body. In the very next second, pain flared where the clasp of her garter caught her flesh.
He paused his tactile exploration the moment she drew in the swift breath.
“It seems this task will require some visualization,” he explained.
“Drat,” Hannah muttered before she could stop herself. She had gone this far, may as well see it through. “Just get it done, please.”
She kept her gaze trained on the wall as she felt him lift her skirts with his free hand. The air against her silk-clad legs sent a delicate shiver across her skin. She wondered if other young ladies making their London debut had to suffer such humiliating indignities.
Likely not.
Such a thing seemed specifically suited for her.
Just one of the many ridiculous faux pas she had committed since arriving in England two years ago. Except this was a little different in that she knew the impropriety of allowing a man to touch her in such a way, let alone view her nearly naked limbs.
If anyone should find out…
Maybe she would be sent back to her parents?
The possibility had merit.
Hannah winced as he probed around the clasp with gentle pressure. Though he was obviously trying to be careful, his touch still increased her
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