Read Online The Naked Prince by Sally Mackenzie - Free Book Online Page A

She held up the card she’d just finished.
    Lady Imogene took it from her. “It’s rather an odd shape, isn’t it? Like a melted heart.”
    It looked more like two red mountains decorated with snippets of ribbon and tufts of feathers.
    â€œIt’s a dress,” Mrs. Butterwick said.
    â€œA dress? It doesn’t look anything like a dress.”
    â€œIt depends on your perspective. Open it.”
    Lady Imogene rolled her eyes and opened the card—it was hinged on the mountain peaks so it lifted up. “Oh!” She started giggling.
    Jo frowned. The second layer was all lace. Through the lace one could see the mountain peaks weren’t peaks at all, but knees. And the sides were two legs spread—
    Lady Imogene lifted the lace, gasped, and then shouted with laughter.
    Oh, Lord. A hot blush flooded Jo’s face. She must be redder than Mrs. Butterwick’s valentine.
    â€œBrilliant,” Lady Greyham said, clapping.
    Mrs. Handley nodded. “It looks so real. How did you know what to draw? Can’t say I’ve ever seen that part of me.”
    Mrs. Petwell sniggered. “Sir Humphrey helped you, did he?”
    â€œHe did not.” Mrs. Butterwick took the card back from Lady Imogene. “I used a hand mirror. Haven’t you ever looked at your female parts, Sophia?”
    â€œNo, why would I?” Mrs. Petwell grinned. “I’m far too busy examining Lord Benedict’s male parts.”
    â€œI think it’s very clever,” Lady Imogene said. “And I’m sure Sir Humphrey will wish to see if your portrayal is completely accurate.”
    â€œOf course he will. I’m expecting we’ll repair to bed immediately so he can do just that.”
    Everyone but Jo laughed.
    â€œWell, ladies,” Lady Greyham said, “I believe Mrs. Butterwick has thrown down the gauntlet. Let us see if anyone can outdo her in creativity.”
    â€œHow will we determine the winner?” Lady Imogene asked.
    â€œWe will have to observe the gentlemen’s falls when they read their valentines,” Lady Noughton said. “The card that provokes the largest, ah, reaction wins.”
    â€œThat’s not entirely fair, Maria,” Mrs. Petwell said. “We all know men are not equally endowed. I’ve personally examined both Lord Benedict’s and Mr. Maiden’s . . . attractions. Bennie is much larger”—she smiled at Lady Chutley—“though both gentlemen satisfy. We ladies know size is not the important issue, don’t we?”
    Jo ducked her head and pretended to examine the assortment of ribbon in front of her, though what she was really seeing was gentlemen’s breeches. Good God.
    If she survived this party, writing letters to an unmarried male would be the least of the blots on her reputation. And to think Papa had urged her to attend, had even said a little sin would do her good! Had he had the slightest notion how thick sin would be all around her?
    When she’d sat at her bedroom desk, she’d had a vague mental image of the gentleman she’d been writing to all these months. She’d pictured a pleasant-looking, bespectacled man, not young but not old, scholarly, with a gentle voice. But now that she’d met Lord Kenderly, she wanted to touch him, press up against him as she had behind the curtains last night, feel his skin on hers—and, yes, examine his most male organ. The thought was scandalous, shocking—and after less than twenty-four hours at Greyham Manor, it felt oddly reasonable.
    Oh, damn, she was throbbing again. She pushed some bits of lace around, praying no one would notice her heightened color.
    Of course God didn’t answer her prayer. He must be laughing at the old spinster adrift in such sinful waters.
    â€œAre we embarrassing the little virgin in our midst?” Lady Noughton’s voice grated.
    Jo ignored her and glued some lace to the heart she’d