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“Lord, no Mr Trent’s idea of appropriate garb left a lot to be desired”

Verity blinked back her surprise “Mr Trent suggested so unseemly?” Surely not

“On the contrary” Scarlett laughed “Mr Trent wanted you to dress as an abbess”

Chapter Nine

Lawrence was doomed Doomed to spend an eternity in the fiery pits of hell Doo like raced the parties of the demi-monde Those who behaved as scandalously as his own blasted parents

Being ill-prepared for the tereeted hi room, all he could do was stand there and stare

“Somewhat better than an abbess, wouldn’t you say?” Wycliff whispered in Lawrence’s ear and then gave hie

“Well, Mr Trent, what do you think of aze upon him and smiled “Will it suffice?”

Suffice?

The woman exceeded his expectations on every level

“The outfit is rather beco, Miss Vale” Stone the crows He closed his eyes briefly so as not to gape at the sumptuous breasts about to spill out from the confines of her bodice “Were that the dress of every shepherdess, I iine farmers would take more interest in their flock”

She stepped forward, her frilly pantaloons visible beneath her skirts “I considered wearing a fichu, but we are attending a party for the demi-monde”

A fichu would solve the proble And yet the wild devil in hiaze drifted down to the roses sewn around the heown, to the trihs, thighs that left a man desperate to explore

The dileh to send him insane Soon he would have to mop beads of sweat fro pulse

“Trust me, Miss Vale,” Wycliff said in the ame “Your costuht”