Free Silken Dreams by Lisa Bingham Page B

bad. And if caught, her mother would gaze at her with a look of such supreme disappointment that something within Lettie always shriveled up in shame.
    This time, however, her mother seemed to take her words at face value. “Are you all right?”
    “Oh, yes. Fine.”
    Her mother regarded her again with narrowed eyes. “Be careful, will you? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    Her mother’s eyes fell to Lettie’s rumpled skirt and the bodice she clutched in her hands, then her eyes skipped to the bed. Lettie cringed, wondering if there was some way a mother could tell if a man and woman had slept in the same bed together simply by the way the sheets lay in careless disorder. But her mother merely turned to regard her again in confusion.
    “Did you sleep in those?” she asked quietly, gesturing to Lettie’s skirt and camisole. Her lips once again pressed into a disapproving line. The second cardinal rule of the boardinghouse: Always appear neat and well-groomed.
    “I was just getting dressed.”
    Her mother opened her mouth as if to remonstrate her, then closed it again. “Perhaps you’d better choose another skirt. That one is a trifle… gritty.”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    Her mother looked at her again, her dark eyes probing in the weak morning light. “A proper young woman is always careful of her mode of dress, Letitia. She should wear things that are neat, freshly ironed, and clean. Otherwise, one tends to make the wrong impression and attract the attention of the wrong sort of people.”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    Evidently finished with her remarks, Celeste turned and moved toward the steps. “We’ve got baking to do today, and after all the noise this morning, the boarders will probably be coming down early. Don’t take too long.”
    “No, Mama.”
    “Your brother came by this morning. He wanted to speak to you, but one of his men called him away. He told me to tell you that he’d be by later.”
    “Yes, Mama.”
    Celeste reached out a hand to grasp the banister, then paused when her eyes fell on the tray that still lay on the bedside table. The bits of leftover food and drink could be clearly seen, as could the two cups.
    Lettie opened her mouth to explain, but her mother merely glanced at her and shook her head in bewilderment. “Lettie, one of these days you’re going to have to stop your foolish daydreaming” was all she said before she lifted her skirts and retreated back down the stairs.
    Lettie waited until long after she’d heard the squeak of the door and the click of the latch before sagging against the wardrobe in relief. It was some moments later before she heard a low rap from inside the armoire.
    Spinning around, Lettie yanked open the door, confronting the sight of her Highwayman sitting in the bottom, with half a dozen garments tangled over his head.
    “May I get out now?” he muttered tightly.
    “Yes, of course.”
    She helped him pull the clothing out of the way, then stepped aside to let him pass. Very carefully, he swung his legs to the floor and pushed himself free. Then he turned on her, his eyes blazing with a blue fire.
    “Just what kind of a game are you playing?” he demanded.
    “What?”
    “I knew your brother was desperate, but I didn’t think he’d stoop so low as to offer me his sister for the night, just to ensure my whereabouts.”
    Lettie gasped and her hand whipped out, slapping him across the cheek. “Of all the ungrateful things to say!”
    She moved to stalk past him, but he grasped her arm, yanking her hard against him. Hard enough that she could sense the careful control of his breathing, feel the leashed power of his anger. The red imprint of her hand seemed to glare at her from the firm contours of his cheek.
    “Damn you! What’s your brother trying to prove?”
    “Nothing! If you’ll remember, I hid you from him last night.”
    “You also drugged me, didn’t you? Didn’t you? ” He clasped her elbows and shook