Chapter Thirteen

"I can't wear it!"

Ellie gazed down at the emerald-green dress that had been delivered to King & Co. in dismay. It was, almost inevitably, the outrageously beautiful silk gown that she'd seen in the window on Cork Street.

She refused to think of how much Harry had paid to get it adjusted to her particular measurements in such a short space of time. Nor how much it had cost to buy in the first place.

"It's magnificent," Tess countered, stroking her fingers over the near-invisible stitching on the bodice. "Madame Lef è vre is a genius."

"Go on, put it on," Daisy prodded.

With a helpless sigh, Ellie lifted the garment from its tissue-paper-lined box and stepped into the back office to change.

Ever impatient, Daisy rapped her knuckles on the door after only a few minutes. "Come on, stop hiding in there. Let us see."

"It's dreadful," Ellie moaned. "Even worse than I feared."

"Doesn't it fit?" Tess asked through the door. "That's a surprise. Madame's usually so—"

"It fits perfectly ," Ellie wailed.

"And that's a disaster, how?" Daisy asked, confused.

"Because it's a scandalous, low-cut, harlot's dress and I was completely prepared to hate it, and… it's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn."

"You like the silk, then?" Tess said drily.

"I never want to wear any other fabric for as long as I live. It's ruined me for cotton forever. It's a disaster . I can't afford to like it."

Daisy's snort of amusement echoed through the wood. "Come out, you goose."

Ellie opened the door and even without her glasses on, she was close enough to see the stunned delight on her friends' faces.

"Eleanor Law, you look incredible!" Tess breathed. "Why have you never bought a dress that color before? It's perfect for your eyes and your hair."

"And when did you get breasts so big?" Daisy gaped.

Ellie clapped her hands self-consciously over her bosom. The daringly low cut of the neckline made her feel as though the entire top half of her chest was exposed.

"It's not me!" she breathed. "It's this dress. There's some kind of magical corsetry sewn into the bodice that pushes them up and together. They've never looked this impressive before, I swear."

Tess laughed. "All your other dresses have been far more conservative."

"Modest," Ellie groaned. "Appropriate."

"Unremarkable," Daisy said decisively. "That this is by far the most flattering thing you've ever worn. Even if it is a little risqu é ."

"I look like an opera singer."

"Perhaps that's ‘Carlotta's' profession?"

Ellie snorted. "If I take one deep breath to sing an aria, my breasts will pop out of this bodice."

Daisy giggled gleefully. "Come on, sit down and we'll help you with your hair."

True to his word, Harry had sent a wig to add to her disguise. In keeping with the rather flamboyant style of the courtesans who graced the demimonde, it was a striking red shade, the color of garnet, with curls arranged in an artful froth on the top and spilling down over one shoulder.

Ellie sat stoically as Tess pinned her brown locks flat to her head, secured the wig, and added some tasteful embellishments. Madame had sent three silk flowers, made from the same green fabric as the dress, for just such a purpose.

"I've borrowed some beauty products from my friend Mary, who works in the Drury Lane Theatre," Daisy said.

A pink fluid from a bottle labeled "Liquid Bloom of Roses" was used to give a heavier-than-usual blush to Ellie's cheeks, and the addition of some vermilion paste to her regular almond-oil lip salve painted her lips a deep red.

"Close your eyes. I need to line your lashes," Daisy commanded.

Ellie squinted at the small pot and paintbrush Daisy brandished in her hand. "What is that?"

"A mix of lamp black and a little oil. Don't worry, it'll wash off. Probably."

Tess took care to protect the outrageous dress with a cloak while Daisy added a final dusting of powder to Ellie's shoulders and face with a shimmery mixture that made her skin glimmer with the luster of a pearl.

When they were finally done, Ellie looked at herself in the mirror and barely recognized the bold, brazen woman who stared back at her. Her eyes glittered with excitement, her cheeks were flushed as if she'd recently risen from bed, and her body was an extraordinary combination of womanly curves.

She didn't look like herself. She didn't feel like herself, either, and a thrilling pulse of anticipation warmed her blood.

Perhaps she did have it in her to be a little bit wicked after all.

" Bellissima! " Daisy kissed the tips of her fingers, like a chef. "Time for me to get ready."

"I'm glad you're going too," Ellie said as Daisy lifted her own outfit from the chair and slipped into the back room.

Few households employed enough permanent staff to cater for large parties, and most people hired additional servants from a reputable agency whenever the need arose. Thanks to the busy time of year, and an old school contact, Daisy had managed to secure a place as a temporary maid for the Willinghams' event.

Tess hadn't received an official invitation, and since she was the most recognizable of the three of them, she was reluctantly remaining at home.

In contrast to Ellie's exuberance, Daisy transformed herself into an unremarkable maid, complete with white apron and demure mob cap covering her hair. The same cosmetics added an ashen pallor to her smooth, blemish-free skin, and created dark circles under her eyes. Nobody seeing her would guess she was the healthy daughter of a duke. She looked tired and overworked.

"I look perfectly hideous!" Daisy cackled in glee when she saw her reflection. "Even the most lecherous drunkard wouldn't give me a second look. But for the final touch… Ellie, do you have a spare pair of spectacles?"

Ellie obligingly found a pair in her desk, but when Daisy put them on, she uttered a squawk of horror.

"Dear God! Is this what the world's like when you don't wear glasses? Everything's all blurry."

"It is," Ellie confirmed.

"It's like that time we pilfered a bottle of Father's apple brandy and got foxed down by the river at Hollyfield. Everything's swimming."

Ellie reclaimed her glasses. "I remember it well. It was a horrid sensation. I thought my brain was going to fall out of my skull. Never again."

"Forget the spectacles," Daisy said. "I need to see what I'm doing."

A knock at the front door made Ellie's stomach somersault, and she braced herself to see Harry, but it was a deliveryman instead.

"Is there a Carlotta Pellegrini at this address?"

Tess grinned and pointed toward Ellie. "That's her. The famous Italian contralto herself."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but accepted the package the man held forward. She gave him a gracious nod, careful not to dislodge her wig.

" Grazie ," she murmured—the only Italian word she knew.

When the man departed, the three of them gathered around as Ellie untied the string and peeled open the unassuming brown paper wrapping.

Tess let out a low whistle when she saw the flat, red-leather box within.

"That's from Rundell, Bridge and Rundell. Justin's always buying me things from there. Even when I tell him he shouldn't."

"Oh, the misfortune of having a rich, besotted husband," Daisy teased. "Would that we were all so afflicted!"

Tess stuck her tongue out at her.

Ellie flipped the metal catch and lifted the lid, and all three of them stilled. Inside lay the most dazzling necklace, earrings, and bracelet she'd ever seen.

"Are those emeralds? And diamonds?"

"It would seem so," Tess breathed.

Daisy gave a little hum of approval. "Scoundrel or not, your Monsieur Bonheur has impeccable taste."

"He's not mine," Ellie murmured. "And these had better not be stolen."

With shaking hands, she donned the jewels. The smooth cabochon emeralds matched the green of her dress perfectly, while the faceted diamonds sent rainbow flecks of light onto her skin.

"You look like a princess," Daisy said.

"Or a very expensive whore," Ellie said.

"You're going to be the envy of every woman who sees you tonight." Tess's eyes shone with pride.

"And the object of desire for every man," Daisy added with a grin. "Wallflower you are definitely not ."

Ellie groaned, but the door knocker interrupted her protest.

"Courage!" Tess said bracingly. "You'll find that book if it's hidden at Willingham's, I know it. Now, go and have some fun!"

Carson, Harry's coachman, stood on the step, and Ellie quashed another stab of disappointment. Did Harry mean to meet her at Willingham's?

She drew her evening cloak around her shoulders, covering her dress completely, and was about to climb up into the carriage when a gloved hand emerged from the dark interior, and she glanced up into Harry's handsome face.

He took her fingers, and the firm touch made her pulse rate double as she climbed in and sat opposite him.

"Are you wearing the dress I sent you, beneath that cloak?" There was a hint of suspicion in his tone, as if he expected her to have chosen something less revealing.

"I am."

He gave a satisfied nod, and she took her time studying his own outfit. His coat was in the Italian style: a pale blue silk with floral embroidery at the sleeves, cut to perfection to emphasize his broad shoulders. His white shirt held a profusion of ruffles, its lace-edged cuffs peeking out from his sleeves, and a frothy cravat was secured with an aquamarine pin impressive enough to have been "borrowed" from the crown jewels.

"You look like a dandy," she said.

On any other man, the ensemble would have looked ridiculous, almost feminine, but on him the flamboyant clothes only served to accentuate his intense masculinity.

The paradoxical contrast of hard muscle and soft silk, the impeccable contours of his thighs beneath his pale buckskin breeches, produced a swooping, quivery sensation in her stomach.

Ellie glanced down, fully expecting him to have jeweled heels on his shoes, like a gentleman of the last century, but his black court shoes were unadorned save for a pair of silver buckles.

His lips curved in a self-mocking smile. " Buonasera, mia bella. "

The sound of his sinfully deep voice made her toes curl.

"I'm afraid I don't speak Italian. Only a little French."

"I said ‘good evening,'" he translated. His eyes studied her face and ridiculous hair. "It's a shame you dislike the name Nell. You put me in mind of Nell Gwynn."

"King Charles the Second's mistress? The orange seller?"

He nodded, pleased by her knowledge of history. "An infamous courtesan. But she was also a fine actress, praised by Samuel Pepys for her performances on the stage. Pretty, witty Nell."

"I'm going to need all my acting ability to be Carlotta the Courtesan," Ellie huffed. "I'm not as well-versed in deception as you are."

"You'll be perfect."

She had no time to worry about it, since they arrived at the Willinghams' town house in short order and she pushed aside her nerves as Harry escorted her up the steps.

A liveried footman took her cloak and she glanced at Harry as her outfit was finally revealed, keen to see his reaction.

For the briefest of moments, he seemed at a loss for words. His eyes roved her from head to toe in a hot sweep that made her entire body flush, and his lips parted on what she hoped was shocked inhale.

Just once in her life, she wanted to rob a man of breath.

"I am very much regretting my promise to give up crime," he muttered softly.

She frowned. "How so?"

Those wicked dimples appeared. "Because I want to steal you away from here and keep you all to myself."

Ellie blushed, and took his offered arm, and together they ascended the stairs.