Page 21 of A Lady Most Wayward
I kissed her. What was I thinking? That I wanted to do far more than kiss her. And what does that make me? What would Liza say about my behaviour?
But for the life of Philippa, she couldn’t conjure Liza’s face or imagine her censure. That alone was enough reason to never again allow herself to be so weak with Olivia.
Lady Smithwick was guilty of aiding the Devil’s Sons’ leader in heinous crimes. Nothing about her should appeal to Philippa, yet even now, she watched the shadowy figure hidden behind the changing screen, and her body ached in places long forgotten.
Mayhap she isn’t lying. We are all capable of doing terrible things to protect the ones we love.
No. She would not entertain such ideas. Her mind was trying to justify the needs of her body, and Philippa would not allow such hypocrisy.
But if her child’s life is at risk, can I truly blame her for doing what she must to protect Hyacinth? Would I not do the same to ensure Hannah’s safety? Or Millie’s? Or Penny’s? Or Ivy’s… even if she did force me into this hideous dress?
Philippa shook her head. Olivia was a consummate liar. A seducer of men. If not a member of the Devil’s Sons, at least complicit in their crimes. Her motives did not justify the actions she took in helping Percival.
A soft sigh came from behind the screen as Olivia’s corset flipped over the top of it and hung like a white flag of surrender. But Philippa was no fool. The woman wasn’t surrendering anything.
Philippa needed to keep her focus on the case and secure Olivia’s confession.
‘The sooner the better,’ Philippa murmured.
Olivia emerged from behind the screen in the frilled nightgown.
‘Did you say something?’
The cotton hugging Olivia’s form so closely was of fine quality. If the room had decent lighting, Philippa would have been able to discern the shape of Olivia’s breasts. Mayhap even determine the colour of her nipples.
Not that I want to know.
Philippa blinked hard. ‘No.’ She turned back to her carpet bag and was relieved to find a silk set of pants and a sleeveless shirt. Her preferred nightclothes in comforting indigo blue so dark it looked black.
Olivia climbed into the bed they would be sharing, and Philippa slipped behind the dressing screen and twisted into a variety of embarrassing positions to reach the buttons running down the back of her dress. Once the wooden clasps were free, she quickly divested herself of the dreaded gown. Donning her nightclothes, she folded the dress and considered throwing it on the fire, but that seemed excessively wasteful.
‘Will you blow out the candle on your side?’ Olivia had already doused one of the flames. Her hair was loose, and it coiled around her face in wild disarray. Her bare arms peeked out of the blanket, pale and glowing in the dim light.
Philippa’s pulse thudded at her wrists, behind her ears, in her chest where her heart stuttered.
It was going to be a long night.
Rubbing her finger against her thumb, Philippa approached the bed and willed her nerves to settle. This was ridiculous. She was just sharing a bed, nothing more. But tension tightened her limbs and made it difficult to take a deep breath.
‘Goodnight, Philippa.’ Olivia didn’t smile. She didn’t lick her lips or bat her eyes. She didn’t coil her hair around a delicate finger. She just held Philippa’s gaze with her own steady green one.
My God. What does she see? The duchess? The Queen’s Deadliest Damsel? Or just me?
It was a terrifying thought. For while Philippa was used to garnering more than her fair share of attention as the infamous Duchess of Dorsett. The Queen’s confidante. Winterbourne’s untouchable widow. A striking femme fatale with sharp features and even sharper wit. Few people saw her as simply a woman. Flesh and blood. Fears and flaws. Desires and doubts.
But I think she sees all of it… all of me.
Troubling indeed.
7
Olivia nodded off in the carriage once again. She jerked awake and realised her boot had found its way between the duchess’. Again. Pulling her foot back, she glared at the duchess. It was her fault Olivia was so tired. She’d slept horribly the night before.
Because it is impossible to relax around this woman.
Every time Philippa had shifted in the bed, every sigh she’d made, even the scent of her, invaded Olivia’s dreams. She had woken countless times throughout the night with an aching awareness. If she reached out her arm, her hand had brushed against Philippa’s bare skin. If she turned her head, Philippa’s hair had tickled her cheek. If she stretched her leg, Philippa’s toes had bumped her calf. It was disconcerting. Unsettling.
Arousing.
