Read Online The Trouble With Moonlight by Donna MacMeans - Free Book Online
Authors: Donna MacMeans
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legs. “I see what you mean.” He tossed the munisak across the bed, cocked a brow, and strode purposefully toward the wardrobe.
Panic seized her. Her fingers dug into the edge of the wardrobe door as the last defense between her and total ravishment. Her throat tightened making words difficult. “What are you doing?”
He stopped on the other side of the wooden panel, close enough to pull it from her grip. “I thought Lady Kensington might have something here that would suit. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” He fumbled among the contents of the wardrobe.
"L ... Lady Kensington?” Her grip loosened slightly on the door.
“She and Lord Kensington are at their country estate. They have allowed me to borrow their residence while I search for some vital information for the good of the Crown.”
“This is not your house?” Yet this room and the library seemed so attuned to him.
He stopped his searching and turned to her. Heat rose from her chest as she realized only a thin wooden door separated her bare skin from his perusal. Hoping that the shadows would hide her blush, she pulled back slightly from the thin glow of the candlelight.
“I’ve made my home in India,” he said. “There are certain aspects of living in London that no longer agree with me. But”—he glanced over his shoulder, about the room—“I must admit that I appreciate Lord Kensington’s generosity. One could grow accustomed to living in such luxury, I suppose. ”
“Then there isn’t another woman in residence here?”
He laughed, a hearty sound. “Heavens, no, Miss Havershaw. I believe most of the servants went on with the Kensingtons. There’s a housekeeper who brings two girls with her during the day. Pickering, my assistant, plays butler and cooks when Mrs. Harrison is away. Otherwise, he prefers to keep to himself above stairs.” He glanced upward before turning his gaze back to hers. “Truly a skeleton staff. I’m afraid my needs don’t require much effort. I’m accustomed to doing for myself.”
He was so close, inches away in fact. His eyes glittered in the candlelight, and the flickering shadows accentuated the fine line of his lips and jaw. He had a magnetism that pulled at her. Indeed, she discovered she had pressed herself tightly against her side of the panel as if drawn to him. His gaze flickered to her lips. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth.
The movement apparently surprised him as he stiffened and turned his attention back to the wardrobe.
“Perhaps this will do for now.” He pulled out a diaphanous nightgown that would never be worn outside of an intimate encounter. “I’m afraid Lady Kensington is shorter and a bit broader in certain places than yourself. Of course, in your unbound state . . .” He looked toward the panel almost as if he could see through the wood. Her body heated as if she were standing before a roaring fire and not just a cold piece of cabinetry. He quickly dropped his gaze as if he too felt discomfort, and held the gown aloft. “Perhaps combined with the munisak, this will provide adequate coverage until you unpack your own garments.”
She pulled the nightgown from his grasp. “Stay there,” she ordered as she slipped deeper into the shadows between the matched wardrobes. Only a moment passed while she slipped the nightgown over her head and let the white, barely opaque fabric settle around her body. The expensive night rail was hardly better than nothing at all, which might be good and well for a married woman, but not appropriate for a single miss. Even one with her vastly limited prospects.
“I believe I shall still require the munisak,” she said. Within short order, his hand appeared around the door with the pink garment. She slipped it on and tied the ribbon before she would venture from her hiding spot. Even though she had stood naked before him in full-phase, she was suddenly shy to be seen without her numerous layers of foundation garments and clothing.
Panic seized her. Her fingers dug into the edge of the wardrobe door as the last defense between her and total ravishment. Her throat tightened making words difficult. “What are you doing?”
He stopped on the other side of the wooden panel, close enough to pull it from her grip. “I thought Lady Kensington might have something here that would suit. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.” He fumbled among the contents of the wardrobe.
"L ... Lady Kensington?” Her grip loosened slightly on the door.
“She and Lord Kensington are at their country estate. They have allowed me to borrow their residence while I search for some vital information for the good of the Crown.”
“This is not your house?” Yet this room and the library seemed so attuned to him.
He stopped his searching and turned to her. Heat rose from her chest as she realized only a thin wooden door separated her bare skin from his perusal. Hoping that the shadows would hide her blush, she pulled back slightly from the thin glow of the candlelight.
“I’ve made my home in India,” he said. “There are certain aspects of living in London that no longer agree with me. But”—he glanced over his shoulder, about the room—“I must admit that I appreciate Lord Kensington’s generosity. One could grow accustomed to living in such luxury, I suppose. ”
“Then there isn’t another woman in residence here?”
He laughed, a hearty sound. “Heavens, no, Miss Havershaw. I believe most of the servants went on with the Kensingtons. There’s a housekeeper who brings two girls with her during the day. Pickering, my assistant, plays butler and cooks when Mrs. Harrison is away. Otherwise, he prefers to keep to himself above stairs.” He glanced upward before turning his gaze back to hers. “Truly a skeleton staff. I’m afraid my needs don’t require much effort. I’m accustomed to doing for myself.”
He was so close, inches away in fact. His eyes glittered in the candlelight, and the flickering shadows accentuated the fine line of his lips and jaw. He had a magnetism that pulled at her. Indeed, she discovered she had pressed herself tightly against her side of the panel as if drawn to him. His gaze flickered to her lips. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth.
The movement apparently surprised him as he stiffened and turned his attention back to the wardrobe.
“Perhaps this will do for now.” He pulled out a diaphanous nightgown that would never be worn outside of an intimate encounter. “I’m afraid Lady Kensington is shorter and a bit broader in certain places than yourself. Of course, in your unbound state . . .” He looked toward the panel almost as if he could see through the wood. Her body heated as if she were standing before a roaring fire and not just a cold piece of cabinetry. He quickly dropped his gaze as if he too felt discomfort, and held the gown aloft. “Perhaps combined with the munisak, this will provide adequate coverage until you unpack your own garments.”
She pulled the nightgown from his grasp. “Stay there,” she ordered as she slipped deeper into the shadows between the matched wardrobes. Only a moment passed while she slipped the nightgown over her head and let the white, barely opaque fabric settle around her body. The expensive night rail was hardly better than nothing at all, which might be good and well for a married woman, but not appropriate for a single miss. Even one with her vastly limited prospects.
“I believe I shall still require the munisak,” she said. Within short order, his hand appeared around the door with the pink garment. She slipped it on and tied the ribbon before she would venture from her hiding spot. Even though she had stood naked before him in full-phase, she was suddenly shy to be seen without her numerous layers of foundation garments and clothing.
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