I do?”
Amber laughed. “Darling, you have no need of a corset.”
“But what about these?” Emerald covered her upthrust breasts with her hands.
“These
will be the envy of every female in Ireland today. Trust me, I know about such things.”
From her window Emerald saw the sails of her father’s ship coming down the Menai Strait from the east. “Oh, dear,” they muttered in unison, knowing full well William Montague was impossible to please.
“Leave your father to me,” Amber said, a hard tone of determination in her voice. “There’s just time before he anchors to make sure Johnny passes muster. Tame your hair a bit more. Perhaps tie it back with a ribbon,” she called over her shoulder as she picked up her skirts and hastened to John’s chambers.
Her son wore a navy-blue superfine coat that had been tailored to fit him to perfection. His fawn knee breeches clung to his thighs without a wrinkle, before disappearing into snowy white stockings. He had chosen a brocade waistcoat in a shade of dull gold to complement the outfit. “Your neckcloth would put the Prince of Wales to shame, Johnny. You look so grown-up today.” Her words were intended to imbue him with confidence, but the navy-blue was indeed a good color for him, Amber decided as she tucked an errant lock of hair beneath his tie-wig with loving hands.
“Your father’s here. I want him to see you first because I know he can find no fault with you today. Stay beside me while I prepare him for Emerald.”
Montague came up to the house alone. He cast a critical eye over his son, and was slightly mollified to see he looked rather mature today. He was also glad to see that his wife was being obedient. When he saw there would be no last-minute pleas to take her with him, a pleasant surge of power shot through him. His eyes frankly assessed her breasts beneath the flowing morning gown.
“When I bring them home, I’ll stay the night. No need to wait up for me, Amber, my dear, I shall awaken you.”
“William,” she began softly, molding him to her seductive will without his knowing it, “I want your daughter to look like a lady today—an
English
lady. I haven’t been in Ireland for years, but I imagine the young women still run about in linen smocks, showing their ankles, as I was allowed to do. They don’t wear imported silks or brocades from some sort of misplaced pride. They only wear linen and wool, or cloth made in Ireland. But when they see Emerald in her velvet, they’ll be grass-green with envy.”
Emerald came downstairs on cue, her black silk curls dancing about her shoulders. Because she was small-boned, her father thought of her as a child. Now, however, he saw she was almost a woman. “She looks like a lady from the neck down, but her hair is as wild as a blackberry thicket. Doesn’t she have a decent powdered wig?” he demanded.
Amber saw her daughter’s eyes fill with the green fire of rebellion and spoke up quickly before there could be a clash of wills. “It’s my oversight, William. Emerald, go up and put on a wig. Your father wants you to look like an English
lady.
”
J ack Raymond eagerly held out his hand to assist Emerald aboard. She allowed him to help her, then moved away from him across the deck as quickly as she could. Rebellion no longer showed in her eyes, but it still lurked about inside her. She watched Johnny shake hands with Jack, who was wearing a lieutenant’s uniform today. Jack certainly looked like her uncle, with the same thick lips. Though he had a fine athletic carriage, it always seemed to Emerald there was a trace of menace in his eyes.
She would be thankful he would be kept busy giving orders to the crew. He had a way of attaching himself to her like a barnacle whenever he was in her company. She dismissedall thought of her distasteful cousin as her brother joined her. “Johnny, I can’t believe we are setting sail for Ireland!” This morning before she awoke, Emerald had