Free Undressed (Undone by Love) by Kristina Cook Page A

appeared so discomposed. “Ye must forgive me, Mr. Rosemoor. I spoke without thought.”
    “Don’t apologize, Lady Brenna . You speak the truth. Would you like to hear how I put my time to use whilst in Town? I rise after ten, some days as late as noon. I read my papers over my coffee, allow my valet to help me dress, spend the afternoon at my club—or at least I did until my membership was revoked.”  His breathing became fast as his anger mounted, and he reached up to loosen his cravat.
    “At five, I might take a ride down Rotten Row, just to be fashionable . My evenings are spent solely in the pursuit of pleasure, attending balls and soirees, routs and musicales, perhaps the opera or theater. And then I might end the night in one gaming hell or another, enjoying a hand or two of cards and a bottle of brandy—well, more like gin these days—before retiring to my lodgings. And if I’m lucky, I might wake in the morning to find some unknown woman in my bed and no idea how she came to be there.”
    He heard her shocked gasp at his vulgar words, yet he continued on . “That, my dear, is how I spend my days in Town. Lovely, isn’t it? Have you a better example of idleness to offer?”
    Only then did he notice that they’d stopped strolling and stood facing each other by the banks of the canal . He reached a hand up to his temple, disgusted that his hand shook as he did so. “You must forgive me, Lady Brenna. I had no right to speak to you in such a manner.”
    “Nay, Mr. Rosemoor . I deserved the comeuppance. Who am I to preach to ye? Ye must think me a self-righteous shrew.”
    “No, not a shrew.”  He reached for her hand . “Not at all.”
    “I shouldna have spoken so carelessly . ‘Tis just that I forget...that is, ye seem so verra different from the rest, from Hugh and the other gentlemen I’ve become acquainted with.”  She swept her gaze from the top of his beaver hat to the tips of his boots. “Despite your appearance, that is.”  At last, a tentative smile reappeared on her lovely face.
    At once the tension in his body seemed to dissipate . A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And whatever does that mean?” he asked, releasing her hand.
    “Well, look at ye . Not a crease in your trousers. Your neck cloth is knotted into...Well, I canna even describe it, but it looks as if it took hours to accomplish.”  She lowered her gaze to his feet. “Your boots are like a looking glass, so polished are they. And truly, no man in Lochaber would take his afternoon exercise in both waistcoat and coat, not on a day as fine and warm as this.”
    “Is that so?” he countered . “And have you taken a look at your own attire?”
    She glanced down at her dress, skimming her hands across the folds of the skirts . “I know. ‘Tis silly, isna it? A ‘walking dress’ they call it. There are morning dresses, walking dresses, riding habits... a different gown for every purpose. This one is bonny, though.”
    “It is,” he murmured . “Made more so by its wearer.”
    She did not heed the compliment . “And to think, I used to believe that simple woolens were all one needed.”
    “I must say, I’m glad you changed your mind on that count.”  Again, he reached for her hand, grasping her gloved one in his, stroking her palm with his thumb through the kidskin .
    She kept her gaze on their joined hands, as if mesmerized, but said nothing.
    “Brenna?”  Her given name slipped easily off his tongue. The sounds of the park receded, becoming nothing but a hum in the distance. He was conscious of nothing save the sight of her tongue, darting out to wet her lips. Then her gaze rose and met his, and the breath seemed to leave his body in a rush.
    “Yes, Colin?” she asked, her voice low and husky .
    “There you are.”
    Colin spun toward his sister’s voice, dropping Brenna’s hand as he did so. He swallowed hard as Jane approached, smiling broadly, with Lady Wellesley by her side.
    “I wanted