Free When Harry Met Molly by Kieran Kramer

bottle of perfumed oil, quite exotic smelling. She also discovered, of all things, several dyed feathers.
    She’d no idea why Fiona would carry such feathers.
    But her gaze kept returning to the gown on the bed. Her heart raced. Somehow, she knew wearing that daring dress would feel like a great adventure.
    The truth was, she’d be delighted to don it.
    She held it up. She should wear a shawl to cover her exposed flesh. And…and if Harry required her to remove the shawl, then—then she would simply have to do so, against her will.
    It would be all his fault.
    Besides, she shouldn’t worry overly much even if she were half naked. The men would be drunk. And they wouldn’t recognize her because she would be disguised.
    Yes, that was it! Miss Dunlap couldn’t fault her for wearing scandalous gowns if she were disguised.
    Feeling rather righteous—she was a good girl, after all—Molly sat at a dressing table and applied Aphrodite’s—rather, Fiona’s—face powder and then rouge to her cheekbones. She did the same for her lips. She also located a stub of kohl, with which she rimmed her eyes and blackened her eyebrows.
    And then she remembered that Fiona had had a beauty mark.
    After another moment’s work, Molly was done. She couldn’t help but gasp at the image in the mirror. Gone was the Grecian look she so favored—and there was absolutely no trace of the milkmaid look she preferred on Sundays.
    Now she resembled a…a real tart.
    Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she skirted around the trunk and opened a door to the hallway. Harry was already there, looking impatient, but also rather serious. As serious as a man about to buy a horse, which was serious, indeed.
    He circled her. “Remove the shawl, please.”
    Biting her lip, she looked down at the floor and did as she was told. And felt an instant draft. She would die of a horrible illness now and be sent to hell.
    “Well,” said Harry, in a soft, surprised voice.
    She looked up and met his eyes. There was something new in his expression. Something that made her heart beat faster. His pupils were large and black, and his mouth curled up in the slightest smile.
    “You look…perfect,” he said, his gaze heating something in her.
    “Really?” She gave him a rather wobbly smile back.
    He nodded. “The dress fits you better than it did, um, Fiona.” He cast a quick glance at the bodice. “Especially there.”
    “Oh, right.” Molly nodded, looking down at the tops of her breasts straining against the fabric. “Thank you.”
    He walked around her. “Now don’t forget. It looks more pleasing without the shawl.”
    Suddenly, Molly felt better. She had a job to do. And that job was to look more pleasing. She had no time to waste on frivolous thoughts of hell.
    “Then I shall not wear the shawl.” She dropped it on top of the open trunk.
    Harry’s gaze lingered once more on her bosom. “Um, perhaps in the carriage you should wear the shawl.”
    “Of course.” She looked down at the scandalously deep neckline. “I wouldn’t want to spill crumbs or anything.”
    “Right,” he said briskly.
    She retrieved the shawl. “Are you sure I’ll pass the test?”
    Harry’s eyes gleamed like—
    Like she wasn’t sure.
    But it scared her. And excited her. And sent tingles down her spine. He looked at her as if he would slay a dragon for her and demand she pay him afterward with something akin to what they’d done in the carriage.
    Which was perfectly all right with her. She’d gladly pay him that way!
    Any nice person would repay someone that way for slaying a dragon!
    He took her by the shoulders and pulled her close. “I think you look as if you belong at this house party.” His voice was a bit rough around the edges. “No one would possibly guess you don’t belong, unless, of course—”
    “I open my mouth.” She grinned.
    He gave a little laugh. “Exactly.”
    The strange tension between them was gone, thank goodness. Now she could breathe