Scandal Wears Satin by Loretta Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

dressmaker,” Sophy said.
    “And that would make you . . . ?” Longmore said.
    “The other greatest dressmaker in the world,” Sophy said.
    “Someone ought to explain superlatives to you,” he said. “But then, I’m aware that English isn’t your first language.”
    “It isn’t my only first language, my lord,” she said. “ Le français est l’autre. ”
    “Perhaps someone ought as well to explain the meanings of only and first ,” he said.
    “Oh, yes, please do enlighten me, my lord,” she said, opening her extremely blue eyes very wide. “I never had a head for figures. Leonie always complains about it. ‘Will you never learn to count?’ she says.”
    “And yet,” he began.
    It was then he realized she’d drawn him away from his sister—who was moving with the other two toward another door.
    “Where are you slipping off to?” he said.
    “To look at patterns,” said Clara. “You’ll find it exceedingly tedious.”
    “That depends,” he said.
    “On what?” Sophy said.
    “On how bored I feel.” He looked around. “Not much entertainment hereabouts.”
    “Your club is only a few steps up the street,” Sophy said. “Perhaps you’d rather wait there. We can send to you when Lady Clara is done.”
    “I don’t know,” he said. “I feel I ought to hang about and exert a calming influence.”
    “You,” Sophy said. “A calming influence.”
    “Excitable women. Clothes. The possible rape and pillage of our father’s bank account. A man’s cool head seems to be needed.”
    “Harry, you know Papa doesn’t care how much I spend on clothes,” Clara said. “He likes us to look well. And I know you don’t care what I buy. It was kind of you to take me here, but you needn’t watch over me. I’m perfectly safe.”
    His gaze traveled over the three sisters, and lingered on Sophy. He thought hard and fast and picked his words carefully. “Very well. A man can think more clearly when he isn’t surrounded by women, and I need to create an alibi.”
    She took the bait, her gaze sharpening. “Why?” she said. “Are you planning to murder somebody?”
    “Not yet,” he said. “You won’t let me murder the bridegroom. No, I want an alibi for Clara, who isn’t supposed to be here.”
    “Mama said I must go to Downes’s,” Clara said, “but Harry took pity on me.”
    “I took pity on me ,” he said. His gaze returned to Sophy. “I brought her here to prevent scolding, ranting, and sobbing, that’s all.”
    “Then the least I can do in gratitude is give you an alibi,” Sophy said.
    He could think of any number of pleasing acts of gratitude, but this would do for a start.
    “Not too complicated,” he said.
    She rolled her great blue eyes. “I know that.”
    “I’m a simple man.”
    “This is so simple, even a dolt could remember it,” she said. “When Lady Clara returns home, she’ll say that you were intoxicated and drove her here instead of to Downes’s, drunkenly insisting this was the place.”
    “Oh, that’s perfect!” Clara said.
    “That will do admirably,” he said. “She can say I stood over her and made her order sixty or seventy dresses, and a gross of chemises and . . .”
    His mind went hazy then, and images of muslin and lace underwear strewed themselves about his brain, and somewhere in that dishevelment was a blue-eyed angelic devil, mostly unclothed. He waved a hand, waving the images away. Now wasn’t the time. He was only beginning his siege, and he knew—he could always tell—he faced a very tricky fortress. All sorts of hidden passages and diversions and booby traps.
    But then, if it were easy, it would be boring.
    He continued, “ . . . and all those other sorts of trousseau things. And when our mother regains consciousness, and demands that Clara cancel the order, Clara will appeal to our overly conscientious sire, who’ll say one can’t simply cancel immense orders on a whim.”
    Sophy folded her arms. Something flickered in