Page 29 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

His mouth went dry. “I see.”

“I need assistance.”

Damnation. This was ridiculous. He stood and walked around the screen. Her arms were piled with the yards of fabric from her skirts, her long legs covered in the wool trousers. She turned her back to him, revealing an extensive line of buttons.

“If you could unbutton them, then I should be able to do the rest,” she said.

He started at the top, careful not to touch her, just the buttons themselves. He didn’t need any other reason to want her, and knowing that her skin was soft as silk would only further whet his appetite. He was not even a quarter of the way down the buttons when her scent engulfed him: lemon and sugar.

“How many buttons does this damned dress have?” he asked.

“Normally this is work for ladies’ maids. I apologize if it is too much for your delicate fingers,” she said.

He grinned in spite of himself. She was clever. And beautiful. It was a dangerous combination. Dangerous and distracting. Finally, he finished with the row of pearl buttons and the dress gaped open, revealing the thin shift covering her stays and her long pale neck that begged for kisses.

“Is that all?” he asked, taking a step backward.

“I believe so.” Her voice came out breathless. She was aware of him, too. It did not help in pretending not to desire her.

He stepped back around the screen, quite relieved to have a barrier between them once again. Several long moments passed where he heard her make small noises of frustration as she maneuvered her body into the foreign clothing. Clothing that would no longer hide her body beneath yards of material, but rather accentuate every curve with tailored lines. What the devil had he been thinking?

“I’m ready,” she said from behind the screen, but she made no move to come around.

“Are you going to show me?” he asked.

“You will laugh at me. I believe I look rather ridiculous, though, I have no looking glass to confirm it,” she said.

“I can guarantee I will not laugh.”

She peeked around the edge of the screen and exhaled, blowing a stray curl out of her face. Then she stepped out, and all words fled his thoughts.

“I look silly, don’t I?” she asked.

“Silly is not at all what comes to mind,” he said. He twirled a finger indicating she should turn around so he could see her from other angles. She did as he bade her. Her shirt tucked into her trousers and then a waistcoat finished the look.

Christ! Her backside was delicious—he’d need to get her a coat with long tails to cover those curves, else that would no doubt give her away—as was the delicate arch of her neck, subtle hint at breasts… What had she done with her breasts? He knew she’d had them earlier, but now all visible signs of cleavage or supple skin were gone.

“What did you do with your breasts?” he asked, unable to squelch his curiosity.

“I, uh…” Her hand went to her chest. “I bound them. Is it noticeable?”

He forced his glance away. “No, it is well done. I was merely surprised.” He was a complete cad for doing all of this. For speaking to her about her breasts. For taking liberties with her body as he measured her for trousers. For the first time in his life he was thankful that his parents had passed, else they would string him up by a pole for all to see. He might not have been raised a gentleman by Society’s standards, but he knew how to behave as one.

This was for Lucy, he reminded himself. Otherwise he wouldn’t be playing such a dangerous game with the delectable Iris Bennington.

“Now what?” she asked.

Precisely. Now what? He’d given her liquor and taught her to play cards, and now he’d gotten her dressed in pants. He took in the length of her—even with her hair up and her breasts bound and her prancing about his study in trousers, she looked every inch a woman. A delectable woman.

“Walk to my desk then back again,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

He waved his hands to indicate what he meant, and she followed, though confusion still etched her features.

She crossed to his desk. “What am I doing?”

“At the moment, you do not look like a man.” He didn’t see how she’d ever pass for one. Her features were far too delicate, from her pert nose to the graceful arch of her neck to her luscious curves and feminine hands. “This is never going to work.”

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