Free Pleasure For Pleasure by Eloisa James

for me. But I am not certain that I entirely agree with her tactics as regards your costumes, Josie.”
    â€œAs I have repeatedly said myself,” Griselda put in.
    Josie groaned inwardly. They appeared to be about to reenact a battle that had replayed itself since she first visited Imogen’s modiste, Madame Badeau. “It is my figure,” she pointed out, “and my costumes in question. Without Madame Badeau’s corsets, I would swell in all directions.”
    Even now Josie could feel the reassuring pressure of whalebones around her body, holding all her extra flesh in place. True, it was uncomfortable, and it made her feel rather like a wooden puppet at times, especially while dancing.
    â€œI do not agree,” Griselda said. She appealed directly to Sylvie. “Josie is convinced that she must wear this horrendous contraption that Madame Badeau espoused. As you can see, she barely sits with ease.”
    But to Josie’s relief, Sylvie didn’t jump to Griselda’ssupport. “I expect that Josie finds the garment rather comforting.”
    â€œI do,” Josie said with emphasis. “I shall wear it whenever I am seen in public. Can you imagine if I took it off? They would stop calling me a Scottish sausage and say that I had swelled into—into a sausage patty!”
    â€œThey will lose interest,” Sylvie said. “Particularly after Griselda diverts Darlington’s attention to herself.”
    â€œI do believe that I shall drop my shoe,” Griselda said. “A fan is too obvious, almost pedestrian. And these are very nice slippers. I’d forgotten how much I like them.”
    They all looked to the ground. Griselda’s slippers were cream silk embroidered with pale blue, very small fleur-delis. Her stockings were the same color, with pale blue clocks.
    â€œI am so happy to be entering your family,” Sylvie said. “I could not bear to be sister to a woman who did not understand the importance of shoes.”
    Griselda smiled at her and dropped her skirts. Her eyes were more excited than Josie had seen them in ages, and she had a little smile hovering on her mouth. She took a miniature pot of color from her reticule, rubbed it on her lips, and then made a playful pout before the mirror. “I feel quite different. Rather wicked, I suppose.”
    â€œBut surely you have not enjoyed your widowhood entirely alone?” Sylvie said, looking rather appalled.
    â€œNo, no,” Griselda said, “there have been small attachments here and there, but I have never deliberately planned anything of this nature.”
    Josie just stopped herself from gasping.
    â€œTherein lies the difference between the two of us,” Sylvie said. “For you are half French, and I am fully French. Consequently, I cannot imagine embarking on any sort of romantic adventure without a good deal of planning. I would owe it to myself.”
    Griselda laughed. “You sound so sophisticated, Sylvie,and yet I have observed you with my brother. The two of you are remarkably chaste, are you not?”
    â€œI am always chaste,” Sylvie remarked. “I have yet to see the reason why I should allow any advance in intimacy on the part of a man. I’m afraid that planning does tend to reduce one’s tendency to be reckless.”
    Griselda paused in the door.
    Sylvie grinned at her. “ Avance pour vaincre!”
    â€œI shall report on my conquest later this evening,” Griselda said. “Josie, may I remind you that you have several dance partners waiting for you, when you choose to emerge.”
    Tess was tucking an errant curl high on her head. “I must return to the floor as well.”
    â€œLucius will be looking for you,” Josie said.
    â€œIt is an excellent thing to have a husband looking for one, rather than the other way around,” Sylvie said. “I shall emulate you.”
    Tess smiled at her. “I have been