Read Online Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) by Jackie Ivie - Free Book Online

of looking at her as if he was ready to throw up his hands - but hell would have to ice over first.
    ***
    “That’s a luv. Pin it nice and tight so Brandy can be sure of yer intentions.”
    She gasped exaggeratedly while the seamstress tried to measure her. The woman’s hands trembled so hard, it was impossible to tell how she managed to hold onto her pins. It was probably more due to how Gillian watched from over at the door. Arms crossed. Leaning against the jamb.
    “You shouldn’t make the poor dear suffer your presence, My Lord. Can’t you see she’s at her wit’s end protecting my virtue?”
    Brandy lifted her head and cackled, more to prevent a blush than anything else, but he wouldn’t know that. The sound jarred with the refined voice she just used. She watched Gil watch the seamstress’ eyes widen and knew she’d conquered another person with her act.
    “But darling. I’m a newly-wedded husband. I really thought you’d enjoy my...presence, as you put it,” Gil replied.
    The seamstress turned a glorious shade of red, and Brandy nearly matched it with his insinuation. Damn him! she thought. It was bad enough he’d brought this woman and now made Brandy stand, nearly naked, for her. And he’d threatened her. If she refused, he promised to hold her in place with his own hands. What a sly one he was.
    It was just unnecessary that he was stunning, too.
    Brandy had seen the look in the sewing woman’s eyes when she first saw Gillian Tremayne. It took all Brandy’s will not to react at the time. Curse the man and his entire staff of tender-hearted fools! They’d be better off wasting their time and energy on the horses than her.
    “My Lord, if I may interrupt?”
    Brandy looked up as another of her jailers knocked. She was just thankful it was another female. Since he’d decided his wife needed a new wardrobe, she’d feared what would happen, and look. Here it was.
    He’d hired a Mistress Vale to fashion a complete wardrobe for his wife. Mistress Vale did have a way about her. She was quite artistic. T he fabrics she was bent on draping Brandy’s body with made her swallow more than once. It was insane. The grand fellow, Gil, shouldn’t waste his funds dressing her so beautifully and elegantly. It was stupid. And generous.
    And wonderful .
    “What is it, Molly?”
    “It’s the Lady Bridget, My Lord. She’s waiting your presence in the morning room. Mum.”  She bobbed a curtsey to Brandy at the end of her announcement. Brandy barely acknowledged, while Gil frowned.
    “I should’ve known it wouldn’t last,” he said. “No matter where I hid, she’d find me.” He smiled at Molly, who blushed.
    Brandy opened her mouth to chide the little snit, and then snapped it shut. What was she thinking? If a simple chambermaid blushes at his smile, what’s that to me?
    “Tell her I’ll be right along, will you, Molly? I’m not quite finished here…w atching my lovely bride.”
    Brandy glared . He smiled right back at her, and damn it, if she didn’t blush just as much as Molly had. Oh! He was horrid.
    “I trust you’re not uncomfortable with my presence, love?” he asked.
    He’d called her that endearment so often it should be sticking in his craw by now. Yet this time, with the warmth he was using, Brandy didn’t know if her swollen tongue would let her reply. He disarmed her so easily, it was as if she had no wits at all.
    “Well, yer piece is beginnin’ to pall on me, she is,” Brandy replied. “Could ye be a nice little lad now an’ take a bit o’ air? It would do us both good, it would.”
    “My piece?” 
    He choked, and she raised her chin.
    “And then there’s yer lady below, too. Cor! But yer a fine one, what with keepin’ the three of us waitin’ on yer favors.”
    Mistress Vale dropped her scissors, and Brandy easily sidestepped, ignoring whatever expression Gil had on his face. She told herself she didn’t care about his reaction, anyway. But when he laughed, her