“You really don't want me here?”

He looked hurt, and Ellie was immediately sorry she'd snapped at him. “It's just that choosing dresses is a feminine sort of pastime.”

“Is it? I was looking forward to it. I've never chosen a dress for a female before.”

“Not even your—” Ellie bit her lip. She'd been about to say, “mistresses,” but she refused to utter the word. She was thinking positively these days, and didn't even want to remind him that he'd once dallied with the demimonde. “Charles,” she continued in a softer voice, “I'd like to choose something that will surprise you.”

He grumbled, but he left the room.

“The earl is a very involved husband, is he not?” Mrs. Smithson said as he shut the door behind him.

Ellie blushed and murmured something nonsensical. Then she realized that she needed to act quickly if she wanted to get anything done while Charles was gone. Knowing him, he'd change his mind and come barging in at any moment.

“Mrs. Smithson,” she said, “there is no hurry for the dresses. But what I do need…”

Mrs. Smithson smiled knowingly. “A trousseau?”

“Yes, some lingerie.”

“That can be arranged without a fitting.”

Ellie sighed with relief.

“May I recommend pale green? Your husband was most vocal in his praise for that color.”

Ellie nodded.

“And the style?”

“Oh, anything. Er, anything you deem appropriate for a young newly married couple.” Ellie tried not to put too much emphasis on “newly married,” but then again, she wanted to make it clear that she would not be choosing a nightgown on the basis of warmth.

But then Mrs. Smithson nodded in that secretive way of hers, and Ellie knew that she'd send over something special. Maybe something a little racy. Definitely something Ellie would never have chosen for herself.

Considering her lack of experience in the art of seduction, Ellie thought that might be for the best.

A week later, Ellie's hands were nearly healed. Her skin was still tender, but they no longer pained her with every movement. It was time to give Charles his birthday gift.

She was terrified.

She was, of course, rather excited as well, but seeing as how she was a complete innocent, the terror seemed to be the more gripping of the two emotions.

For Ellie had decided that her gift to Charles on his thirtieth birthday would be herself. She wanted their marriage to be a true union, one of mind, soul, and—she gulped as she thought this—body.

Mrs. Smithson had certainly lived up to her promises. Ellie could hardly believe her reflection in the glass. The dressmaker had chosen a gown of the sheerest pale green silk. The neckline was demure, but the rest of the gown was racier than Ellie could have dreamed. It consisted of two panels of silk, sewn only at the shoulders. There were two ties, on either side of her waist, but they did not hide the length of her leg, or the curve of her hip.