Free What Not to Bare: A Loveswept Historical Romance by Megan Frampton Page A

and orange thread. All over.
    It was a pleasure—a bittersweet one, to be sure, but a pleasure, nonetheless—to torment her mother so. Plus, as she’d told both Emma and Lord David, she really did like all the combinations she conjured up, and she didn’t see anything wrong with doing what she wanted and wearing what she wanted. If it kept certain people away? So much the better.
    It was just Society insisted she do and wear certain things, and if that was what Society wanted, Charlotte wanted nothing to do with Society.
    Until she was allowed to do what she wanted, however, she would do what she wanted. Or something like that.

What Not to Bare
    Dear Ladies:
    Any person of superior intelligence in the army will tell you that the best way to defeat your enemy is to surprise them
.
    And while we don’t presume that anybody in Society is your enemy, we would wish to have you apply the same theory here: surprise your opponent
.
    But not with an attack; instead, surprise them with your beauty, your taste, your penchant for the unexpected
.
    Make yourself into something you are not. Perhaps you will find you really are that person, in which case the most surprised person will be yourself
.
    The Fashionable Foible

Chapter 8
    Of course she searched for him as soon as she entered the ballroom. Why wouldn’t she? He was likely to be the loveliest thing she’d see that evening, including the dessert tray, and she did like to gaze upon lovely things.
    She couldn’t resist a chuckle as she thought of how he’d looked if she told him he was lovely. His eyebrows had practically reached his hairline when she’d dubbed him beautiful.
    But he was. So, so beautiful. She wished she were an artist, so she could attempt to capture his perfection in art. Even though she doubted anyone truly could—there was something so effortlessly masculine in the way he moved, how he spoke, and goodness, how he looked at one when he was interested.
    Even if he was in the midst of saying one was “not ugly.”
    “Lady Charlotte, how lovely to see you.” Was Lady Anne a mind reader, to know she had the word “lovely” in her brain?
    “And you, Lady Anne.” The two ladies smiled at each other, Charlotte feeling a warmth of pleasure at the possibility of having a new friend. She and Anne seemed to share a view of the world, one colored by their sometimes difficult mothers and their own desire for independence.
    Although being independent together seemed somewhat like a contradiction in terms.
    “Any possibilities for your new venture this evening?” Anne said in a soft whisper.
    In addition to getting to ask Anne what her version of the EB was—it was Tarnished, a very clever play on Anne’s last name, Silver, that Charlotte had laughed about for at least five minutes—Charlotte had confided in Anne about the fashion column, knowing she would keep her secret. She didn’t know how she knew that, she just knew.
    Just as she knew that Lord David was the loveliest thing she was likely to see, thisnight and every other.
    Now, if only she could just write about Lord David. Of course, she doubted her new editor would appreciate so many uses of the word “lovely.”
    “I am not certain. Besides me, of course.” Both ladies glanced at Charlotte’s gown. Lady Anne blinked and swallowed.
    “It is definitely noteworthy,” she said in a monotone.
    Charlotte nudged her in the ribs. “You can be honest. You hate it. As most people do.”
    Lady Anne shook her head. “Not precisely. It suits you, even though it catches the eye in a particular way. I cannot imagine you in any other clothing.”
    Charlotte remembered Lord David’s reaction to her normal attire the previous evening. It seemed others also felt as he did. Mr. Goddard had not commented on it at all; had he not noticed, or was he hoping this was a permanent change?
    She doubted he’d even noticed, actually. If she wore her fortune as a gown, perhaps then he would remark on it.
    “Thank