To Wed in Scandal (A Scandal in London Novel) by Liana LeFey

Author:Liana LeFey [LeFey, Liana]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2013-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

Silk? She looked to the box and there, beneath where the book had lain, was another packet, this one a soft, featherlight parcel wrapped in chambray. Opening it, she shook out a swath of palest pink silk so fine it was practically transparent.

It was a night rail.

Fingers trembling, she held out the delicate wisp of fabric, her exhalation of reverence causing it to ripple like water. The thing looked as if made for some exotic princess, its neckline embroidered in satin threads and lavishly encrusted with seed pearls, beads of silver, and tiny, sparkling jewels—diamonds and rubies, to be precise.

She gasped in astonishment. A royal gift, indeed! It was worth an absolute fortune.

No doubt Henry meant for her to wear it on their first night as husband and wife. Unbidden, a wicked curl crept across her lips, and her heart began to pound. So delicate a garment would likely be ruined within seconds of his seeing it on her.

Carefully laying it aside, she returned her attention to the book in her lap. Page after page was filled with curious, curling script that, while interesting, was also utterly unintelligible. The next leaf she turned, however, revealed a beautifully inked, color illustration depicting lovers engaged in a passionate embrace.

Naked lovers. And they were…

Her face caught fire as she stared, mesmerized.

Years ago, while clandestinely poking about in the servants’ quarters, she’d chanced upon some naughty leaflets hidden beneath a bed. This image looked nothing like those, however. Those had been crude and demeaning. This was not. This was beautiful. The couple appeared utterly enraptured with each other. She flipped through the remaining pages, stopping to absorb each illustration. Each pane had been drawn with exquisite attention to detail.

She swallowed. Every detail. Not all were sexually explicit, though the ones that were made her blush. Henry had said it was an ancient, sacred Hindi text. Obviously, it was a treatise on love.

If Mama found out about it, it would surely be ample cause for her to end his suit.

Or demand that they marry at once.

Was it worth the risk?

Her heart nearly leaped out of her throat at the sound of a knock on her door.

“My lady?” called a muffled voice from the other side.

Sabrina panicked. “A moment, if you please.” The book and gown she quickly put back into the box, which she then hid in the darkest corner of her wardrobe.

Cheeks still aflame, she went to the door and opened it.

“Your mother has returned and requests your presence downstairs at once, my lady,” the servant informed her.

As Sabrina turned to leave, her eye fell on the chess set Fairford had given her. Somehow it wasn’t very inspiring anymore. And the little book of French poetry he’d given her suddenly seemed trite and full of sentimental drivel—none of which, she knew, echoed his feelings for her. He was only satisfying the conventions of courtship.

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