The gown was quite low in the neckline and was cinched just below her bust to drop to the floor around her ankles. She couldn’t even do up most of the buttons and then pull the dress up because it was too small for her. The sister must be a very tall, very slender Amazon.
A knock startled her so she cursed the door as well as the man who almost certainly stood on the other side.
“I need a few more minutes,” she called through clenched teeth.
“We need to go now.”
“Well, I’m not ready.”
The handle on the door turned but it held since she’d locked it from the inside.
“Miss Germaine, open the door.”
“Not yet,” she huffed and renewed her struggles in earnest. She could wield a sword in waves higher than a ship, yet a little row of pearls was going to prove her undoing.
“Open the door this instant.”
She ignored him, her fingertips finally touching the edge of one button. More seconds passed but she was able to push one more through the impossibly small corresponding hole. A sigh of relief escaped her as she let her arms relax so the blood could flow again. The dress sagged everywhere it wouldn’t if the damned thing had laces or was her own size.
“I’m coming in there, Daniella. If you have a leg out of the window, I will drag you back in.”
Not for one moment had she considered escaping the house, just the nuisance gown. “I just need a little more time.”
The lock clicked and he barged in, his eyes going first to the still-closed window and then to her, where she stood before the basin. He raised his brows but didn’t ask, didn’t say a word.
“I can’t get the bloody buttons done up on this bloody dress that doesn’t bloody fit!” she exploded, turning in a frustrated circle, her arms once again wrapping around her body.
“Language, Daniella,” he admonished with half a grin. “Why didn’t you ring for the housekeeper?”
“I don’t need help; I’ll be done in a moment.”
“We don’t have time for this,” he muttered. “Turn around.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Turn. Around.”
His tone was so commanding, so demanding, she could do nothing else but comply. He really did sound like a general.
At the first brush of his warm fingers against her shift, she twitched. Their situation was most improper. She smiled.
“You are not supposed to enjoy this,” he murmured, bending to his task so that his hot breath whispered over her back.
“Enjoy what? I don’t think I’m going to be able to breathe deeply again for days. Surely your sister has a wider dress than this one?”
“No. This is the most, ah, commodious I could find.”
Daniella felt short as a squab, as her bare toes were swamped by the frilled hem. “Do you stretch her on a rack?”
She wasn’t prepared for his chuckle. If she had been prepared, she would have thought of something else before his warm breath skated over her skin and a blush heated her cheeks. Before all she could think about was melting into him and thinking how to make him chuckle again.
Damn. Those were the kind of thoughts that saw her stranded in London in the first place.
Making eyes at a deckhand had evidently been the proof her father needed to finally see her as a woman rather than a child and to therefore ship her off to the capital to find a husband before she found more trouble. What would the captain make of her blushing at her abductor?
“I do not. Amelia is, to her horror, naturally very tall and very slim.”
“English men are attracted to buxom women,” she said matter-of-factly before thinking the better of it.
“Many of us are, yes,” he replied as the last button slipped home.
She turned slowly, her breath held more from anticipation rather than the too-tight dress. “Oh?” That one word came out more a squeak than the sophisticated question she meant it. He was so close, the flecks of honey glinted in the brown around his pupils.
He shook his head. She followed the action with eyes that surely betrayed her.
“I’m sorry. That’s the response I always give Amelia when she complains about being gangly. She is rarely grateful for my honesty.”
So he talked to her the same way as to his sister? Even though disappointment drooped her shoulders, there was a part of her that was not unhappy he treated her thus.
“You said we were out of time?”
“We do have to be on our way. The horses will grow restless and soon the streets will fill with servants and such.” He turned and walked out of the room without waiting to see if she was finally ready or if she would even follow.
She wanted to drive a knife into his shoulder then and there. Daniella drew a breath in, exhaled, counted to five and stared at the window. She knew she wouldn’t make it far but it looked enticing nonetheless.
By the time she reached the bottom of the curving staircase, Lasterton stood with her slippers dangling from his fingertips, irritation pinching his features. She fought the urge to poke her tongue out at him.
The front door opened and Hobson’s head appeared. “The bags are strapped. We’re ready to go when you lot are.”
Her captor nodded once and started for the door. “Put it around to the staff that if anyone asks for me once we’re gone, I’m on my way to Scotland via the North Road.”
She slipped her feet into her shoes then followed him across the hall.
“Wait behind the door while I check for passers-by,” he said, and she nodded.
At his signal, she ducked
