Page 25 of My Rogue, My Ruin
One who had given her a necklace worth more than anycommonbandit would consider parting with.
Taking the wooden case from the bedside table to her lap, she studied the box for a long moment before lifting the lid to examine the contents. With a swift indrawn breath, she slammed the lid shut. And then opened it again, barely a second later. She sighed, marveling at the perfect cut and color of the jewels. The rubies, a deep crimson with the barest hint of violet, were magnificent. She had to admit that Lana had been correct—the man did have exceptional taste.
A part of Brynn wanted to believe that they were a gift, and not something that had been stolen. Now it seemed that Lana’s inane romantic notions were starting to spread. She allowed herself the brief, if reckless, fantasy that the gentleman thief had bought the spectacular gems just for her. The tempting memories of his sculpted lips, his chiseled length, and those uncalloused fingers grazing the slope of her nape slid into her mind. With a gasp, Brynn shook her head in self-disgust.
Could she be any more foolish?
The bandit could be a nobleman, but she would be deceiving herself if she thought him in any way agentleman. Instead of fantasizing about him, she should be trying to find a way to unmask the rogue—as she should have done in that cottage instead of being overcome by immoral urges.
Brynn slid her forefinger across the glittering row of gems, her heart quickening. Perhaps there was a way she could discern the identity of the bandit, if he were indeed a peer of the realm as she suspected. Maybe he’d be in attendance at the Gainsbridge Masquerade. After all, there were still a few families left in Essex before the season drew them back to London. The thought made her heart race into a full gallop.
It’s a game, nothing more, she told herself. A game she’d play to determine the identity of the infamous Masked Marauder. Suddenly, the prospect of the Gainsbridge affair became much more appealing than resting in bed with a sore chest and an overactive imagination.
“Lana,” she called, after taking a moment to be sure of her decision. Her maid reappeared in the dressing room entrance, her arms piled with Brynn’s clothing. “Please let Mama know that I’m well and will attend the ball.”
“I am afraid Lady Dinsmore has already left, but your brother is still here.”
Brynn suppressed a thrilled smile. It was as if the fates were aligning to her cause. “Wonderful, please pass along that I will be accompanying him.”
Lana grinned in delight, and she dropped the clothes into a chair. Something wistful appeared in her eyes for a second but it was quickly shuttered. “Which gown will you wear? The lavender silk?”
“No.” Brynn had other plans. She’d show that pompous thief what the opposite of being “in mourning” was. “The silver satin.”
Lana’s eyes turned into round, shining orbs. “You’re going to wear the rubies, aren’t you?” she whispered. “Do you think he’ll be there? Your gentleman thief?”
Brynn didn’t bother to argue that he wasn’theranything. Instead, she quirked an eyebrow. “I hope so. Otherwise, it will be a waste of a perfectly lovely dress, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter Seven
After Lana had tied her corset to the point of pain and closed the final fastenings of the dress, Brynn looked in the mirror with a critical eye. She wanted everything to be just so—and for the dress to be the perfect foil for the necklace. She squinted at her reflection. Her hair should be up, leaving the slim column of her neck bare. Lana seemed to know this instinctively, and she quickly set about twisting and tucking Brynn’s hair into a simple upswept style. She pinned it at the crown with a diamond-encrusted comb, pulling a few tendrils free to frame her face.
“Now for the rubies,” Lana said.
As the maid draped the cool jewels across her bare throat, Brynn drew a deep breath and had a brief moment of panic. What if shedidrecognize the thief? And what if he recognizedher? What then? Brynn discarded the thought. He’d been delirious and had thought her a boy. No, she would be safe. She’d deal with recognizinghimif the moment presented itself.
“My lady, you have never looked more radiant,” Lana breathed.
“Thank you, Lana, but I expect that’s because of the rubies, not me.”
Brynn studied herself. The dress itself was stunning, comprised of layers and layers of silvery chiffon and satin with a daringly low bodice—lower than she’d ever worn. She had seen a fashion plate of the dress in Cordelia’sCostume Parisienearlier in the summer, and she and Cordelia had fawned over it. Brynn had ordered one to be made for her straightaway, but had never thought she’d actually wear the revealing confection. Until now.
The only splash of color was the ruby necklace, the largest gem dipping nearly into the hollow between her breasts and drawing attention to the flushed expanse of her décolletage. Lana deftly fastened the scrap of silver silk she’d fashioned into a fetching demi mask with a handful of white feathers, and the final effect made Brynn’s lips part in sublime delight.
Hawksfield won’t know what hit him.
Brynn blinked at the unexpected thought. She intended to lure thebandit, not Hawksfield. Then again, she was feeling rather daring in this dress. Perhaps she would render Hawksfield speechless for onceanddiscover her masked highwayman.
“You are definitely going to set thetonon its ear. Perhaps even upside down.” Her maid grinned as she helped Brynn down the stairs into the foyer, where Lana held her own middle and spun in a graceful circle, her eyes alight. “Have a dance for me, if you please.”
Brynn shook her head at Lana’s giddy, if odd, request, and tugged the velvet stole over the neckline of her dress. There was no need for her brother, who was waiting in the carriage, to see the plunging cut of her bodice and insist she return to her room for a more appropriate gown.
“You look lovely, sister,” he said as she joined him, his inspection a mere cursory glance in the shadowy carriage. He nodded to the coachman, and they were off.
“And you look rather dashing,” she said. He was immaculately dressed in a black jacket, waistcoat, trousers, and a snowy-white shirt.
Gray didn’t respond to her flattery. Instead he eyed her with a serious look. “Are you feeling quite well?”
“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t go otherwise.”
