Lessons of Desire by Madeline Hunter Read Free Book Online

"trussed" her. She wore no corset or stays and the general forms indicated that the body so free beneath the fabric was worth imagining. High breasts, he decided, of indeterminate but admirable size, and hips feminine enough to make her waist appear quite small. Some sleight of hand on a few hooks and all would be revealed.
    "Alexia made it," she said, seeing his admiration of the hat. "I believe she hopes to reform me. As for my dress that you are eyeing so critically, do not expect me to change it. It was not my decision that forces you to accompany an unfashionable woman in public."
    "The appeal of the dress is growing on me. I insist you cover your hair but I will not demand that you give up all the symbols with which you challenge the world."
    She raised her chin and sailed through the doorway. "If you are wise you will not demand any tiling at all."
     
     
    Noise, drama, feathered bonnets, and colorful parasols.
    Princely wealth and abhorrent poverty and the glint of soldiers' armor.
    London 's fashionable hour was a pale imitation to what took place in southern climates in the evening. The causeway along the Bay of Naples had filled with the city's population. Aristocrats in fashionable dresses and coats strolled in packs between poor people lowering near the water. Tradesmen and their wives promenaded with their children.
    The evening social hour, enjoyed near the bay or in church piazzas, served important purposes in the city, as seen by the way girls of marriageable age were turned out for display. Their young, dark beauty glowed between sober-faced parents who critically assessed the men who looked twice.
    All of Naples was an opera and Phaedra Blair did not appear nearly as odd as she might have intended. Her hat made her at least half presentable, although Elliot noticed the attention she garnered with her flowing hair. He imagined the reaction when she came here her first evening, walking alone, her red locks flaming among a sea of black and brown. London had more patience with the kind of eccentricity that she displayed in her appearance.
    "Did you speak with Mr. Merriweather?"
    They were the first words she had spoken since leaving her apartment. Elliot had not forced conversation in the carriage. He did not mind the lack of it. He spent a good deal of his time in silence with his own mind as his only company. He enjoyed society up to a point, but only if hours of quiet balanced those of noise and talk.
    "He is away on a mission and not expected back for a fortnight at best."
    He wondered if she knew that already. He was not convinced Miss Blair was so innocent in her purposes in visiting this city. If she wanted to see the ruins, another time of year would make more sense. Embarking when her journey would overlap the heat of Naples's summer, when her press was in trouble, her partner ill and those memoirs awaited preparation ... He still suspected that quizzing Merriweather had been among her intentions here.
    "I hope that you do not expect me to delay a fortnight or more before going to Pompeii."
    "I have decided we will visit the ruins while I await his return."
    Thai appeased her. She almost appeared relieved. Perhaps she really had come only as a tourist
    "Last spring Alexia told me that you are writing a new book, Lord Elliot. Is your visit to Pompeii connected to that?"
    "I am going to see the new excavations and learn what has been discovered in the last few years. I will be talking to the archaeologists and researching some matters for my book."
    "Alexia said it is to be a book about everyday matters, the way people lived. How unusual. Normally history books describe the wars and politics and the deeds of great men. Even your last one did."
    "I am aware that this book may be criticized for lack of importance. The subject interests me, however, and I can afford to indulge myself."
    "If you think I am criticizing, you misunderstand. I believe your book will be very popular no matter what the scholars