Page 33 of A Scandalous Proposition
Her grace’s dresser helped Florentina into her gown of emerald sarsenet. Trimmed with festoons of silk and tied beneath her breasts with a tasselled ribbon, it made her feel feminine to her fingertips. The bodice was cut low, and the lightweight, close-fitting skirts whispered about her legs so softly that they might almost not have been there. The thought of seeing Adam for the first time since the disastrous episode in the summerhouse made her feel sick with nerves, and she was grateful for the boost to her confidence that the gown afforded her.
Even so, the uncertainties continued to multiply. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection, finding it difficult to remain still whilst Edith put the finishing touches to her hair. She wore no jewellery because she no longer possessed any. All of that had been left behind when she fled Spain. But she did have a beautifully painted fan with mother-of-pearl sticks, a gift from the dowager. She picked it up, grateful to find an occupation for her nervous fingers.
‘My dear, you look lovely.’ The dowager beamed in evident satisfaction when Florentina presented herself for inspection. ‘You will be the belle of the ball.’
‘I don’t think that will endear me to the duchess, ma’am.’
‘Oh, it wasn’t the duchess’s good opinion I had in mind. Now then, we ought to be making our way to?’
‘Lord Fitzroy, your grace.’
Neither lady had heard the butler enter the room and Florentina had little time to prepare herself before Adam’s imposing figure filled the doorway. When she found the courage to turn her eyes in his direction, the sight of him in his dress uniform deprived her of the ability to breathe. If she’d thought him handsome before, that was nothing to the way he looked now. She was transfixed and knew she was staring like a simpleton. She gulped, attempting to moisten her dry throat, conscious of her heart pounding at double its usual rate.
‘Good evening, Mother. Mrs Grantley.’ He swept an elegant bow. ‘I am come to escort you both to the Court.’
‘Why, Adam, what a delightful surprise!’ The dowager reached up to kiss her son’s cheek. ‘How thoughtful of you. And how handsome you look. Did I not say that he would, Tina?’
‘Indeed, ma’am.’
Somehow Florentina found her voice, gulping yet again as she became conscious of Adam’s searing gaze resting on her face. And lower. The situation called for some light and witty comment, but she couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. The dowager’s eyes flitted between them, and her amused expression reminded Florentina that she was still gaping at him. She quickly averted her gaze.
‘You need not have put yourself out on my behalf, my dear,’ the duchess said.
‘It’s no trouble whatsoever.’
The dowager ran her fingers across her son’s green coat. Its skirts, fronted with white cassimerei, joined a circle of black velvet embroidered with silver. His waist was circled with a crimson woven-silk sash, and a ceremonial sword dangled at his side. A pelisse with fur trimming was casually slung over his sword shoulder and held in place with a decorative chain. His hair was as tousled as always, the scar above his eye lending his rugged features added distinction. But for all his splendid attire, it was his expressive eyes, alight with amusement, that held Florentina’s attention. She’d never seem him looking more relaxed, or in better humour, and wondered what had happened to put him in such a congenial frame of mind.
‘I am so proud of my brave son.’ The dowager kissed him again. ‘But I fear you have had a wasted journey. Philippa won’t want us there so early.’
‘But I want you there, Mother.’ His tone of firm conviction brooked no argument. ‘Both of you.’ He looked directly at Florentina, his gaze once again lingering upon her features for a little too long. As they did so, his lips turned up in a sinfully tempting manner, causing Florentina’s blush to deepen.
‘In that case, I only hope you know what you’re doing.’ The dowager gathered up her reticule and shawl and took his proffered arm.
‘Don’t I always, Mother?’
‘Modest too,’ Florentina muttered, loud enough for him to hear.
The dowager kept up a steady stream of conversation as they strolled across the park, to which Florentina was obliged to attend but didn’t contribute. Speaking about trivialities?or about anything at all?would have been beyond her at that point. But Adam answered his mother’s questions in a relaxed tone, seemingly as much at his ease as Florentina was agitated.
She was ashamed of the sensations that swamped her senses whenever she considered their ill-fated tryst of the previous evening. She thought about it now as they passed the summerhouse and the feeling spread through her entire body, heating her face. Adam looked down at her and winked. Since his mother was present, she valiantly resisted the urge to kick his ankle.
When they reached the steps to the Court, Florentina took a deep breath and strove to banish her salacious thoughts as she prepared for the ordeal to come. Her fingers tightened on Adam’s arm.
‘Courage, I won’t allow anyone to bully you,’ he said with an intimate smile.
Kennedy opened the door before they had ascended the final steps.
‘Good evening, Kennedy,’ the dowager said. ‘How is your sore knee?’
‘Much better, I thank you, your grace.’
‘Good. Mrs Bentley’s herbal remedy seldom fail.’
‘It cured the malady almost at once, your grace.’
Adam chuckled. ‘I dare say it did.’
‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ The dowager tapped her son’s arm.
