a little shriek and impulsively hugged him.
“Cousin, please,” he protested. “You’ll wrinkle my cravat!”
“Sorry.” She stepped back, still smiling. “Tonight, then?”
“Tonight!” He looked thunderstruck. “My dear, at least give me a chance to prepare myself.”
“Pooh. There’s no preparation necessary. It’s better to strike while the iron’s hot.” She knew from following Stonehaven that it had been several days since he had gone to Madame Beauclaire’s, so this evening seemed an opportune moment. However, she could hardly tell Geoffrey her reasoning.
“Where do you get such vulgar expressions?” Geoffrey drawled. “All right. You win. Tonight it will be.”
It took all Julia’s and Phoebe’s combined efforts to get her ready in time. She had decided to wear one of Phoebe’s dresses, since a married woman’s wardrobe allowed for a more flamboyant selection of color than the pastels and whites to which maidens were relegated. Though Phoebe’s blond looks were not enhanced by some of the jewellike colors that flattered Julia’s vivid coloring, there were a few gowns of suitable appearance and style, primarily one of a vivid peacock blue satin that made Julia’s blue eyes bright pools of color and also was a perfect complement to her auburn hair and creamy skin.
Since Phoebe was both shorter and rounder, the dress required some creative work on the seams and hem. But Phoebe was a fair hand with the needle, and the dress, fortunately, was stylishly narrow, so there was not much hem to lengthen. After Phoebe was through with it, Julia took the dress to her room and quickly pulled out the threads that held the ruffles of lace in place at the neckline, thereby lowering the neck of the dress to a level that would have horrified Phoebe. An upswept hairdo with artfully arranged wisps of curls gave her a stylish but somewhat tousled look, which she thought would surely make a man think of running his hands through her hair. The newly redone dress, when she pulled it on and fastened it, fit her like a glove. The high waist and low neckline combined to cup and reveal her full breasts to their best advantage, and the long, narrow skirt emphasized the slender length of her legs. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes blazed. She had not, she thought, ever looked better.
Julia suffered a brief qualm as she thought of the acting job that lay before her. She must convince a man whom she despised that she was attracted to him. She must also make him believe she was an experienced woman of the world, fully capable not only of arousing a man’s desire, but also of fulfilling it, for if he thought she was the well-bred young lady fresh from the country that she really was, he would doubtless keep his passions leashed, and that was the last thing she wanted. His desire must well up hot and strong, the kind of feeling that could sweep a man into revealing far more than he normally would. Whatever she had told her cousin and Phoebe about merely talking to Lord Stonehaven, her real intention was to bring him so quiveringly close to the brink of mindless passion that he would reveal anything.
Prudently, she wrapped her cloak around her before she descended the stairs to meet Geoffrey. It would not do for either him or Phoebe to get a glimpse of how her dress actually looked. Geoffrey would probably not be as shocked as Phoebe would, but he was all too likely to pronounce that her attire was “not the thing” and refuse to take her until she changed. When she entered the drawing room, Phoebe, who had been chatting with Geoffrey, sprang to her feet.
“Julia! You look beautiful!”
“Egad, Cuz,” Geoffrey added. “Indeed you do. I shall be the most envied man in the room tonight.”
Julia favored him with a dazzling smile. Phoebe came forward to hug her and whisper a wish for good luck to her. Then Julia took Geoffrey’s arm, and they left.
The carriage drive was not long, for which Julia was grateful. She could not keep her mind on the languid chitchat in which Geoffrey engaged. The knot of nerves in her stomach grew as they drew closer to the gaming house, and by the time they pulled up in front of the small, elegant structure, she was afraid she might disgrace herself and ruin everything by being sick.
She took Geoffrey’s arm with an icy hand and walked up the steps to the house, hoping that she looked calm rather than terrified. Geoffrey was greeted with courteous familiarity at the door and quickly ushered inside. She felt the eyes of more than one occupant of the house turn toward her as they strolled in, but she was too busy gazing all around her at the strange atmosphere to pay attention to anything else.
It was a house like many others, decorated with no lack of taste or expense, with the difference that instead of couches and chairs and the usual things that filled the drawing room and dining room, the rooms opening off the entry were furnished with tables and chairs, all filled by men playing cards. There were only two women among the fifteen or twenty men she could see. One was a silver-haired woman with a fortune in jewelry around her neck and at her ears. Her eyes were fixed intently on the cards in her hand, and a feverish spot of red colored each cheek. The other female was a petite woman with improbably blond hair and an overly voluptuous figure stuffed into a gown designed for a sylph. Julia’s first thought was that the woman looked vulgar, but she quickly reminded herself that she, too, was dressed in less-than-ladylike attire.
A servant came up to take her gloves and cloak. Julia dawdled over the tasks, reluctant to reveal her attire to Geoffrey, but fortunately, before she had to draw off her cloak, a friend of Geoffrey’s hallooed at him from the next room. Geoffrey lifted his hand in a wave and smiled. He was as convivial as he was lazy, and Julia knew that he would spend the evening drinking and conversing with his friends in endless rounds of cards, and therefore, in his careless way, would probably lose all track of her.
“Ah, there is Cornbliss. I suppose I must go to him.” He looked back at Julia. “Shall I introduce you? What is your name, by the by, or I shall make a shocking slip, I’m sure.”
“Jessica,” Julia answered quickly, having spent a good part of the afternoon cogitating on names and other matters of deception. “That way, if either of us slips and starts to say my name, we can change it quickly.”
“Clever girl.”
“Jessica Murrow,” she added. “As for who I am, it doesn’t matter.”
“I shall maintain an air of mystery, that’s always handy when one doesn’t know what one’s doing.”
Julia smiled. “Go join your friends. I shan’t mind, and I don’t need to be introduced.”
“If you are sure?”
Julia nodded. She had counted on Geoffrey’s laziness and general unconcern to keep him out of her hair, and she was happy to see that she had been right. With a brief salute of his lips against the back of Julia’s hand, he strolled away to join his compatriots. Relieved, she shrugged out of her cloak and handed it to the long-suffering footman who still stood waiting for her. Quickly she stepped into the room opposite the one her cousin had entered and moved out of sight of the wide doorway. Thus established, she took stock of her surroundings.
She had never before been in such an intensely masculine atmosphere. It must be, she thought, similar to a gentleman’s club, that inner sanctum of masculinity from which all women were excluded. Smoke rose lazily from cigars and pipes without regard to feminine sensibilities. Snifters of brandy and glasses of port or wine sat on the tables beside them. The rumble of male voices filled the air, punctuated now and then by a bark of loud laughter. Julia suspected that she would hear things tonight that would make her blush.
She wandered through
