To Wed a Scandalous Spy (29 page)

It had definitely been slept in. So he had not only left her before she woke, but he had also spent the remainder of the night in his own room.

He was simply being discreet, she told herself. Nothing more.

When she approached the top of the stairs, Lily rushed up to her. "Oh, my lady! Your new things! Everything is here!"

Willa gasped. New clothes! "Have it all brought up to my room. Fetch tea and toast for me, will you, Lily? And ask Myrtle if she would like to join me!" What fun! She was going to try on every single thing!

Myrtle appeared immediately, accompanied by Daphne as well. Willa greeted the woman cheerfully enough, for this at least she and Daphne had in common.

It was a girlish whirl of mixing, matching, and trying on. Myrtle tried on every single hat, although they were all too large and slid down over her eyes. Even remote Daphne got into the spirit of it, advising Willa on which shawls and bonnets to pair with what outfits.

The tea and toast came and cooled before Willa remembered her hunger. Finally, she uncovered the tray to have a nibble while Lily sorted the hats back in their proper boxes, for Myrtle had gotten them all turned around, and Daphne decided which gown she thought Willa should wear to the ball that night. A folded news sheet accompanied the teapot and toast rack.

"Ooh, check it for the Voice of Society," caroled Myrtle. "It's spiteful. I like it."

Even Willa had heard of the tattle column by now, and she paged through the paper quickly. "Here it is!" She read the first line out loud. " 'We all know who wreaked havoc in the flock earlier this year, and last night he finally returned to the public eye—and who should be trailing behind him but a fleecy lamb, willingly headed for her slaughter.' " Willa paused, then continued more slowly. " 'Pretty lambkins cannot last long. Should we warn her that her guard dog is truly a wolf and is sure to eat her alive?' "

"Oh dear," Myrtle murmured.

Daphne shook her head sadly. "It is to be expected, I suppose."

Willa tossed the paper down with a sniff. "Awful. So inaccurate. Why do they bother?"

Myrtle patted her hand. "Don't take it so—"

"They're so wrong! Wolves travel in packs, for one thing. Nor do they eat as many sheep as people think. Sheep are very well guarded usually. Goats, now, there's a favorite meal…" She went on in this vein for a moment, dwelling on a wolf pack's cooperative hunting methods. She was just getting to the moment of disembowelment when she paused, realizing that Myrtle and Daphne were watching her owlishly. She stopped, blushing. "I'm simply saying…" She trailed off.

"Well, you're nothing like a sheep," Myrtle said stoutly.

"Ewe," Willa said.

"What is it?" Myrtle peered down and patted her front. "Did I dribble?"

"
Ewe
." Willa shrugged. "An adult female sheep."

"Enough of that," Myrtle said sharply. "I know you're trying not to think about that awful batch of lies, so don't you try to distract me, missy!"

Slowly, Willa sank to sit among the piled boxes. "I know," she said sadly. "I didn't think it would happen overnight, but there isn't even a word in there about how fine he looked, or my gown, or anything that we worked so hard for."

"What are you talking about?" Daphne's pretty brows were pulled together. "You cannot believe that you can persuade Society to accept Nathaniel again?" She pressed a hand to her throat. "Do you even think that it could be
possible
!"

"Ha!" Myrtle crowed. "Yes, we can." She tossed the news sheet into the small fire in Willa's hearth. "Take that, you shifty creature!"

Slowly, Willa smiled at the two women. "Then I can count you in?"

The pristine white silk Court gown was pressed and donned—it fit just fine, from the wide gold-embroidered bands at the hem to the severely low beribboned bodice. Thankfully, Kitty had chosen a tiara over a feathered turban. Willa wasn't sure she could manage a turban. As it was, she was tottering in the high-heeled slippers she needed to wear, for she could not imagine hemming Kitty's costly dress for one borrowed wearing.

Once in the Audience Chamber of St. James's Palace, Willa was reassured by the pale, pasty nervousness of the other debutantes. One girl began to weave on her feet. Her chaperone whipped out a vinaigrette and applied it like a true champion.

Willa breathed easier. She might be wobbly and unsure of her protocol, but she wasn't
that
nervous.

The wide doors at the other end of the chamber began to swing open and the crowd stirred. Willa peered through a forest of ostrich plumes, suddenly happy for her high heels. A stout, grandly dressed figure entered and everyone in the room swept into deep bows and curtsies. The Prince Regent waved a negligent hand at the audience and sat on the throne with a grunt.

"He doesn't look much like I pictured him all these years," Willa whispered to Myrtle when they straightened.

Myrtle nodded, her purple plumes bouncing. "Oh, but he was a handsome lad once. I remember watching him grow up looking like an angel half the time and a devil the other half."

Fascinating. "Really? Which one do you see now?"

Myrtle regarded the Prince, her gaze a bit sad. "I see a lonely man now, I think. Bored and lonely."

One by one, the painfully nervous girls were escorted to curtsy before the Prince Regent. Their names and antecedents were formally read aloud by a bewigged attendant, but George didn't look as though he was listening.

When it was her turn, Willa took a deep breath and moved forward, wobbling only slightly in her shoes. She curtsied so deeply that her nose nearly brushed the floor and she worried for her tiara's security.

"Miss Willa Trent," the attendant intoned, "of the…" There was a tiny pause. "Miss Willa Trent!" finished the man loudly, as if volume could make up for lack of information.

Willa held the pose, waiting for the Prince to respond to her name. When no response came, she broke form to glance up at His Royal Highness.

The bored royal gaze was planted firmly on her bosom. Willa straightened gracefully, but George maintained his idle perusal of her bodice. Finding him a bit more than royally rude, Willa cleared her throat sharply.

The Prince blinked and raised his gaze to her face. Willa sent him a swift wink and a "caught-you" smile. He grunted once in amused surprise, then examined her more closely.

The crowd murmured when the Prince waved away the usher who was preparing to lead Willa back to her place. Instead, the Prince motioned to the attendant who had read the presentation aloud. A brief whispered conversation took place, but Willa distinctly heard the bewigged man say "Reardon."

The Prince chuckled a bit at that and cast Willa a broad smile. Encouraged, Willa broke form once more when the usher led her away—she raised one hand to wiggle her fingers at the Prince Regent in a childish wave. The crowd's murmur increased when Prince George wiggled his plump fingers right back.

Myrtle shook her head at Willa once she'd returned to her side. "Best watch yourself around that one, dear. I don't think Thaniel would care to look aside from royal interference."

"Oh, nonsense, Myrtle. George was just being friendly."

Myrtle's brows rose nearly to her hairline. " 'George,' is it? When I told you I thought him lonely, I'd no intention of you doing anything to alleviate that loneliness!"

Willa shook her head, smiling. "Myrtle, you're being silly. The Prince Regent is old enough—old enough to be my uncle!"

Myrtle's eyes remained narrowed. "If I didn't know you were entirely mad about Nathaniel, I'd think you were flirting with His Royal Highness."

Willa laughed out loud. "Oh, Myrtle, what a notion." She smiled in the Prince's direction. "I was merely saying hello."

"Hmm. Well, it caused a storm of gossip, that's for certain. If you become a royal favorite, it will certainly be hard for people to disdain Nathaniel." Myrtle examined her closely. "Or is that your plan?"

Willa only smiled.

That evening, Nathaniel went down early to the ballroom. Basil had sent a message round to let him know that he wanted nothing to detract from Daphne's triumph. Unlike Kitty Knight, Daphne had no intention of playing on Nathaniel's notoriety. He was to arrive quietly and he was excused from his position in the family presentation line.

He did not blame her. Part of him still felt as though he owed Daphne. She had been supportive in her way, and he had rejected her only to marry another. He was willing to keep a lower profile than he had last night.

Not that that was truly possible. This was not the same crowd as had appeared last night, for this was Daphne's circle, but again, everyone was very carefully not meeting his eyes, although he knew that most of them were watching him. There were schoolmates and fellow members of the House of Lords and even a few old flames.

Nathaniel heard a familiar braying laugh and turned to look. Good lord, Finster was here, with powder apparently covering last night's damage. Thinking of Willa's none too subtle revenge, Nathaniel grinned at the man, astonishing him right out of his customary sneer.

Nathaniel heard a sudden murmur of surprise from the crowd to his left.

"I say, who is
that
?'

Idly curious, Nathaniel turned to see a stout lady whack her equally stout husband on the arm, evidently for staring at some young thing. Several people were craning their necks to see, but Nathaniel didn't bother. Whoever it was had nothing to do with him. He was simply grateful to have the spotlight taken from him.

Then the crowd parted, leaving a space right beside him. He glanced over but caught nothing but a glimpse of sea green silk and deliciously low décolletage framing a fabulous bosom. Then the crowd shut his window and he saw nothing more.

Still, that had been a lovely moment. He might be nearly married, but he most certainly was not dead, and a man would have to be cold in his grave not to notice such a delectable bustline.

In all his life, he had only seen one better, he mused. Willa's—

Wait a minute
! He pushed into the crowd, following the whispers. That was
his
delectable bustline!

He caught another glimpse of green silk. Damn, if only she were taller! But then she wouldn't fit so perfectly under his chin when he held her in bed…

Willa was drifting through the room, her smile fixed and her gaze sorting men as she passed. Where was Nathaniel? If he had left her in unfriendly territory again, she was going to hit him.

Suddenly she felt warm breath on her neck. Since this was not the first time some man had come a bit too close in the last ten minutes, she was prepared for a quick toe stomp and elbowing.

"What in Hades are you wearing?"

She turned, her smile wide. "Nathaniel, you are here!"

"Of course I am. Now answer my question, damn it!"

She waggled a finger at him. "You're barking," she sang.

"Willa, go upstairs and change this instant."

She looked down. No, everything was still in place. She was as decent as any woman in the room. "Why? We just bought this dress. It was made just for me, remember?"

Willa in the blue dress had been lovely. Willa in the green… seductive.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was shown to perfection in the sea green silk. The neckline framed her bosom like the divine artwork it was. He didn't know what was keeping the silk from slipping down over her nipples, but he thought it might possibly be glue. Just beneath the bodice was a daringly wide band of black velvet, setting off the voluptuous line of her waist and hips to great advantage.

She wasn't fashionable in the slightest, but she looked devastating. Her hair was pulled up high and piled on her head. It was very proper but somehow made a man think about the sable strands spread out across his pillows.

She wore another band of black velvet around her throat punctuated by a delicate cameo. She wore nothing else in the way of jewelry, and Nathaniel realized that she had nothing else.

Not even a betrothal ring.

Dear God. He'd best step lively then. "Come. I must introduce you." He grabbed her hand and took off.

Towing her along, Nathaniel dragged her from chattering group to chattering group, introducing her so quickly that the men had no time to do anything but ogle and the women no time to do anything but wonder why they hadn't thought to wear something so dramatic.

No one cut Nathaniel and Willa, being far too curious and entirely too slow. They were there, and then they were gone. Not a whisper of the "broomstick bride" met Willa's ear; he was sure of it.

Finally, Nathaniel neared the end of the room and pulled her into a curtained alcove. "There," he said with satisfaction.

Willa was gasping for breath. "What :.. was that all about?"

"Just being as obvious as possible."

Willa wasn't sure, but she thought she might just have been insulted. She adjusted her glove carefully, then made a fist. "Explain."

He put up both hands, laughing. "No need to get violent, wildflower. I only meant that I wanted every man in that room to know that you are mine. You look entirely too delectable to go wandering about without my stamp on you."

He was jealous? He thought that other men would want her?

"Oh, Nathaniel!" She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

Before the blood left his brain entirely from the sensual rapture of her mouth, Nathaniel had only a moment to wonder what the kiss was for.

Both of their hands explored avidly, just as if they hadn't touched the same places only hours before.

"Why, Willa," gasped Nathaniel against her neck, "you're wearing a corset!"

"Mmm. Lily found it for me. It isn't… laced very tightly, but she said it would do a… marvelous job of… upholding things."

Nathaniel closed his eyes and groaned at the thought. "Promise me you'll wear it for me later."

She chuckled. "Just the corset?"

He shook his head. "No. How silly." He took a bite of her neck. "Stockings also, of course."

Then there were only sighs and groans and panting in the alcove.