Free Seduced by a Pirate by Eloisa James Page B

well, as handsome as ever a man was! Even Nanny said as how he was fine looking.”
    “Nanny? Really?”
    May laughed. “She said a man with those thighs could father ten children and we’d have to teach you how to plead a sick headache.”
    “Hush,” Phoebe said, and May quieted, which just meant that Phoebe went back to worrying.
    By the time her maid was rinsing her hair, Phoebe had reconciled herself to the fact that her marriage was going to be consummated that very night.
    For all Griffin had promised to wait, she wasn’t stupid. Everything about him was strung tight. She was a challenge that he meant to conquer, his feelings all the more acute for the debacle of their wedding night. There was something hungry in his eyes that sent a thrill right down her legs. He craved her.
    She felt as if her blood was overheating. She stood up, determined to put on clothes before May noticed that she was trembling slightly.
    Then it struck her that she didn’t have any seductive clothes, gowns designed for a man’s appreciation. All of her clothes were retiring, costumes that informed the world that she was not a debauched woman, even though she had no husband.
    May handed Phoebe a length of toweling and then turned to the wardrobe. “The blue gown will be just right. I’ll remove the fichu that tucks into the bodice.” Her smile was naughty, which made Phoebe wonder.
    Her maid was not married. Phoebe had never seen her smile like that.
    The blue gown was made of the lightest of lightweight cottons, so thin as to be transparent, although of course it had an underskirt.
    It had an underskirt, because even as she watched, May began ripping the lining away. Too busy pulling out the small stitches, May didn’t even look up at Phoebe’s gasp.
    “He’s a pirate, my lady. A pirate . You have to make him stay in England. We need a man about the house. You can’t keep a pirate at home by wearing a little cap on your head and pretending you’re as bloodless as a Quaker.”
    Anxiety spilled into Phoebe’s stomach again. Even her household didn’t think much of her chances of keeping Griffin interested. Not given that she was an old woman of thirty-four, likely infertile, probably wrinkled in places she had never thought about.
    With a silent groan, she straightened her shoulders. If only he’d come home five years ago. Or even four years ago, when she was thirty. Thirty seemed better. Vastly younger than thirty-four.
    “No corset,” May said, “and no chemise, either.”
    Phoebe had never dreamed of such a scandalous way of dressing. She opened her mouth to refuse—and paused. What did she know of these matters? Nothing. Maybe wives seduced their husbands nightly by leaving off their chemises.
    What couldn’t be avoided must be endured.
    She allowed May to dress her in the remains of a perfectly good gown, without a scrap of underclothing, which made her feel the veriest trollop. And reminded her that she had to inform Griffin about the children’s parentage immediately. The moment he came in the door.
    May piled her hair on the top of her head in a disheveled bun, leaving strands to curl around her ears. Then she produced a little box.
    “What’s that?” Phoebe asked suspiciously.
    “Kohl,” May said. “We’ll brush it on your eyelashes.”
    “No.”
    “But my lady . . . look, I have some lip color as well.”
    “No.” There was no question in Phoebe’s mind about this. She wouldn’t disguise what she was, and who she was.
    Obviously, Griffin intended to sleep with her. But if she didn’t quicken with child after six months, he might well leave. Meanwhile, she wasn’t going to pretend to a youth she no longer possessed.
    But at least she would have him first. For a time. Under her anxiety was a kind of brewing excitement. After all, she’d been alone for years. When male eyes met hers on the street, she turned her head instantly. Part of the reason she avoided society was because men, even gentlemen,