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So she climbed on her bed and read the letters.

Sam wrote that she and the babe were doing well, and she’d be ready to travel soon. Just in time for the house party. Gage wrote in his usual laconic style, promising hell if Vane had not treated Isabel well. And then there was the letter from Evie, which was accompanied by the package.

Isabel unwrapped the package with avid interest and took out a delicate, semi-transparent fabric.

Isabel frowned. A scarf? What was she to do with it? She took it in her hands and let it fall to the floor.

It wasn’t merely a scarf, Isabel realized quickly. It was the most indecent nightgown she had ever seen. Not only was it translucent, but between the slash in the skirt and the gaping hole at her bust, she wondered how it would cover anything at all.

Isabel stared at it from every angle and came to the unlikely conclusion that the seamstress had just forgotten to sew a few pieces onto it.

Still, curiosity won out, and she decided to try the gown on.

First, there was the grueling prospect of taking off her day gown. Dressing by herself without the help of a maid did not seem like a pleasurable prospect. But she refused to call Anthea for help as she did not want anyone to witness her disgrace when she put on that piece of ribbon that Evie called a nightgown.

If that was Evie’s idea of softening Vane’s mood, Isabel might as well just show up in his bed completely naked.

After a few minutes of struggling with her day gown, she finally managed to take it off. By that time, however, she was all winded and warm and had to perform her nightly ablutions.

Her hair was all out of place, so she took out all the pins and spent a few minutes brushing it out.

Now that it was late enough, and there were no more chores for her to do, Isabel put away her day clothing and, in her single chemise, approached the barely-there nightgown.

Isabel realized that she had been stalling.

Why would she be reluctant to put the gown on? It’s not like anybody would see her in it.

Isabel took a deep breath. She supposed putting it on was acknowledging that she indeed wanted Vane’s attention. It was painful to admit—even to herself—that she wanted him to look at her with hunger in his eyes.

With a sigh of resignation, Isabel took off her chemise and unhurriedly put on the new nightgown. The cool, soft material glided against her skin, igniting her senses. Goosebumps crawled atop her skin, not from the cold but the pleasant feeling induced by the contact of the nightgown against her skin.

Isabel walked toward the looking glass and froze.

She was right! The gown did not cover anything at all!

The thing hung from her shoulders, only covering her breasts slightly over her nipples. The slash in the skirt revealed her legs every time she took a step.

Isabel had to admit that she did look rather dashing—if that was the right word to describe it. And she felt more confident than if she’d been completely naked.

She divided her hair in the middle and brought it over her shoulders, covering her body down to her waist.

There. That was better.

She liked her hair. It was thick and slightly curly. And without her breasts showing, she looked a little modest. She cocked her head to the side, surveying her reflection.

She turned sideways and studied her profile. Her bottom clearly jutted out, the soft material of the dress underlining her every curve.

No, she should never be seen like this in front of her husband. It was absolutely indecent.

The door adjoining her room to her husband’s suddenly opened.

Isabel squeaked and looked around in panic. She wanted to dash toward her bed and cover herself with sheets, but before she could react, Vane had entered her room.

* * *

Hadn’t David said this chamber was unoccupied? The sly little bastard. What was he trying to pull?

Isabel stood in front of the looking glass, her eyes frightened. At first, Vane ignored that little detail, as he just thought she was frightened of him entering her domain. But then his gaze swept down her length, and his eyes widened.