Free The Luxe by Anna Godbersen Page A

contradictions.
    The right side of Henry’s mouth spread in a smile, and she knew she had his attention.
    “Did you enjoy yourself last night, Mr. Schoonmaker?” she asked. “If I remember correctly, our conversation was cut short.”
    “Why, I did enjoy myself, Miss Hayes.” His golden brown eyes darted around the room as he unbuttoned his coat and laid it across a chopping block. “I cannot imagine how a ball could possibly have been more enjoyable.”
    “We certainly tried to do everything to please our guests,” Penelope replied. “Most especially you, Mr. Schoonmaker. If there was anything amiss, I hope you will tell me now.”
    Henry paused, and then, as though an idea were slowly coming to him, he took a step in Penelope’s direction. She felt the full weight of the movement. “Now that you mention it, it seems that I saw much too little of you .”
    “You didn’t see enough of me ?” she asked.
    “No.” Henry let his mouth hang just open, as though he was waiting for the punch line. “I did not.”
    Penelope smiled and pulled at her bodice so that her décolletage seemed suddenly at a very great risk of being fully on display. “Better?”
    “Much.” Henry took the remaining steps necessary to reach his hostess and put both arms around her waist.
    “You danced excellently last night,” Penelope went on asHenry began putting airy kisses on her neck. She was pleased that he did not stop to reply. “In fact, I think we danced excellently together .” Penelope paused as Henry put his lips on the small depression at the center of her clavicle and moved on to the other side of her neck. “And, since you know me to be very modest, I shall have to add that it was not my opinion alone.”
    “No?” Henry pulled away from her neck, and his eyes met hers. She saw that they were filled with some far-off amusement.
    “No. In fact, I heard from Buckie that the general opinion of the room was that we were such a good pair on the dance floor that vows should be made on it.” Penelope could not help but gasp, for Henry had somehow managed, all of a sudden, to have his hands under her skirts and on the backs of her knees. The touch sent a ticklish shudder up her legs. But Penelope was not about to let her insinuation pass unheeded; she flashed her blue eyes, creased the left corner of her mouth upward, and said, “Tell me, Mr. Schoonmaker, what do you make of that?”
    But Henry, who considered himself a true gentleman and so never made promises he could not keep, and whose hands were now somewhere around the middle backs of her thighs, stopped Penelope’s inquiry with a kiss full on the mouth.
    “Henry,” she whispered, low and smoky after the kiss, looking over his shoulder to the still-crackling fire. “What did it say?”
    “The letter?” Henry’s mouth moved on to her ear. “Nothing, Penelope. It didn’t say anything.”
    “Tell me, Henry.”
    He pulled away, just far enough to look her straight in the eyes. It was then that Penelope saw something new and profound in his gaze. Something that looked, if she was not mistaken, like the stirrings of love. “You will know soon enough,” he finally told her, before kissing her gently on her perfect pink lips.
    The kiss flushed Penelope with confidence, and then she gave herself entirely to the pleasure of having Henry Schoonmaker all to herself in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon. She couldn’t wait to be official, and, in his words, she would know soon enough . Sweet satisfaction spread through her as she began to think just how soon that would be.

Eight
    One young lady in particular rose above prideful pulchritude: Miss Elizabeth Holland, daughter of the late Edward Holland, was like a diadem amidst garish rubies, glowing with poise and subtle beauty in a brocade shepherdess costume made uniquely for her by a famed Paris dressmaker. We predict her impact on society will be great and good.
    –– FROM THE “GAMESOME GALLANT” COLUMN IN THE