Confessions of a Little Black Gown Read Free

boot Brutus had attached himself to, to know him.
    Hadn’t their Nanny Jamilla always said it would happen just like this? That one day she’d come faceto face with the man who was her destiny and she’d just know?
    Even without being able to see his face, she supposed.
    Perhaps it was because her heart thudded to a halt just by the way he stood, so tall and erect, even with a devilish little affenpinscher affixed to his boot.
    Heavens! With Brutus thus, how could this man ever move forward?
    “Oh, dear! Brutus, you rag-mannered mutt, come away from there,” she said, pasting her best smile on her face and wishing that she weren’t wearing one of Felicity’s old hand-me-down gowns. And blast Felicity for her tiresome meddling, for if she’d just left well enough alone and not insisted the trunks be changed around, Tally’s trunk wouldn’t have become lost.
    “You wretched little dog, are you listening to me? Come here!” She snapped her fingers, and after one last, great growling chew, Brutus let go of his prize and returned to his usual place, at the hem of her gown, his black eyes fixed on the man, or rather his boots, as if waiting for any sign that he could return for another good bite.
    “I am so sorry, sir,” Tally began. “I fear his manners are terrible, but I assure you his pedigree is impeccable. His grandsire belonged to Marie Antoinette.” She snapped her lips shut even as she realized she was rambling like a fool. Going on about Brutus’s royal connections like the worst sort of pandering mushroom.
    “No offense taken, miss,” he said.
    Tally shivered at the rich, masculine tones of hissimple acceptance of her apology. It swept over her like a caress.
    Then to her delight, he came closer, moving toward Thatcher’s desk with catlike grace, making her think of the men she’d imagined in her plays: prowling pirates and secretive spies. It was almost as if he was used to moving through shadows, aloof and confident in his own power.
    Tally tamped down another shiver and leaned over to pick up Brutus, holding him tightly as if he could be the anchor she suddenly felt she needed.
    Whatever was it about this man that had her feeling as if she were about to be swept away? That he was capable of catching her up in his arms and stealing her away to some secluded room where he’d lock them both away. Then he’d toss her atop the bed and he’d strip away his jacket, his shirt, his…
    Tally gulped back her shock.
    What the devil is wrong with me? She hadn’t even met the man yet, and here she was imagining him nearly in his altogether.
    Until this moment, she’d never understood her sister’s obsession with Hollindrake or Pippin’s for Captain Dashwell, but she’d joined their ranks in the blink of an eye and even before she’d spied more than a hint of this incomparable stranger.
    Oh, dear heavens, she prayed silently, please say he is here for the house party. Please…
    “I daresay we have met,” she continued on trying to lure him forward, force him to speak again, “but you’ll have to excuse me, I’m a terrible widgeon when it comes to remembering names.”
    The man stepped closer, but stopped his progresswhen the door opened and Staines arrived, a brace of candles in hand, making a tsk, tsk sound over the lack of light in the room. The butler shot the duke a withering glance that seemed to say, You are supposed to ring for more light .
    Poor Thatcher , Tally thought. He still had yet to find his footing as the Duke of Hollindrake and all that it entailed.
    As the butler and the two footmen traveling in his wake went about the room lighting candles and illuminating the corners, Tally held her breath. Oh, just a few candles more and she’s see her future…
    “Have we met?” she asked impatiently, and to further her cause, she shifted Brutus to one hip and stuck out her hand, which must compel the man, if he was a gentleman, to take the final steps into the circle of light.
    “No, I