A Scandalous Innocent by Penny Jordan

Author:Penny Jordan [Jordan, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488032110
Publisher: Harlequin Presents
Published: 1988-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

‘ARE you sure you don’t mind me having the evening off?’ Lark asked Mrs Mayers anxiously.

It wasn’t the first time she had asked the same question, and her employer looked wryly at her and told her, ‘Lark, I’m quite sure that Hunter would be less than flattered if he could hear you. Of course I don’t mind, my dear. It will be the first evening you’ve had off since you started working for me. Where are you dining? Do you know?’

‘The Bostonian, I think.’

Mrs Mayers’ mouth twitched slightly. ‘An excellent choice. Hunter obviously wants to show you off. Everyone who’s anyone in Boston dines there,’ she explained to Lark. ‘What are you going to wear?’

There was only one thing she could wear—the new dress she had bought in Boston.

She prepared for her dinner date with reluctance, a reluctance she was hard put to it to give a name to. After all, it was not as though she was leaving Mrs Mayers alone for the evening; her employer had announced that she was dining with friends.

When had the peace and tranquillity she had expected to find in Boston, with the width of the Atlantic between herself and James, turned to dullness and boredom? When had she first begun to realise that she was mentally drawing comparisons between Hunter and James to the former’s disadvantage? Hunter was a nice man: kind, thoughtful, the kind of man whom she felt she could trust to believe in her implicitly, and yet compared with James…

But why should he be compared with James? What was she doing even thinking about James in the first place?

She tugged agitatedly at the zipper on her dress, and stepped in front of the mirror to study her reflection. It looked every bit as good on as it had done in the shop; the rich blue fabric flattered her colouring, the misty panels of her skirt floating out around her in the chill of the air-conditioning, while beneath them the pencil slim sheath of the underdress hugged her body.

The upper swell of her breasts was just visible above the provocatively cut neckline—discreetly, so Mrs Mayers had assured her when she had first tried the dress on. Now she was not so sure. The few hours she had spent sunbathing had given her skin a peachy glow, and she touched the slight swell of flesh uncertainly.

As Mrs Mayers had already pointed out, Hunter was very conservative. If he was indeed taking her to the Bostonian to show her off, he might prefer her to wear something a little more discreet, but what? This was the only evening dress she possessed.

Outside she heard a car coming up the drive. It was too late to start worrying about her appearance now. Hunter had arrived.

She picked up the jacket Mrs Mayers had insisted on lending her, letting her fingertips luxuriate in the soft pure mohair before she slipped it on. The off-white wool was a striking contrast to the richness of the cornflower-blue silk.

Mrs Mayers came out of her room as Lark reached the top of the stairs.

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