“No, no,” Richard put his hands up in alarm and began to move a little more swiftly, sidling toward the door like a scrabbling crab as more and more of her in the really very attractive gown was revealed. “I’ll just go this way. It’s fine. You just—” Richard stopped protesting, and rushed forward to catch her as she started to get out of bed, tangled one foot in the bed covers and pitched forward. Fortunately, he reached her in time to prevent her tumbling to the floor, and caught her against his chest instead. He then moved back enough to ask, “Are you all right?”

Christiana stared silently up into his face, a rather dazed look on her own and he found his attention focusing on her lips, noting that they were full and slightly parted as if awaiting a kiss. He had the sudden mad urge to do just that, press his lips over hers and slide his tongue out to explore her mouth. He may even have followed through on that urge had the strong odor of whiskey not reached his nose. It then struck him that she’d slurred her sister’s name and he suddenly remembered the conversation he’d heard while hiding in the room up the hall with Daniel. The women had been talking about some drink or drinks Langley had given Christiana. Hard liquor. The woman was soused.

“Can I see your bottom now?”

Richard blinked at the bizarre request. “What?”

“Did I say that aloud?” she asked with a frown.

A surprised laugh slipped from Richard’s lips, and he eased her gently away. “I believe it may be best if you got back in bed, my lady.”

“I’ll show you yours if you show me mine,” she offered, and then tilted her head and muttered, “I think I said that wrong.”

“Yes, well,” Richard hesitated, an image rising up in his mind of her turning, and yanking her nightgown up. Oddly enough, it was a tempting offer. Giving his head a shake, he urged her toward the bed. “I managed to translate and while it is a most kind offer, I fear I am going to have to refuse it.”

She gave a long sigh, “It always works with Lisa.”

That brought him to a halt. His voice was choked when he asked, “You and your sister look at each other’s bottoms?”

“No, our embroidery,” she said with exasperation, “Why would I want to see her bottom?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted weakly.

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “Dumb Earl Dicky” and crawled onto the bed now of her own accord, her silk-covered bottom waving briefly in front of him before she twisted to sit on it. Peering at him then, she frowned. “Wasn’t there something I was shupposed to do?”

Richard cleared his throat. “Sleep. You are to sleep, and I am to go to my own room now.”

But he just stood there and stared at her sitting in the center of her bed, one strap of the nightgown half off her shoulder, so that the bodice sagged, revealing the top curve of one breast. Had he really thought her unattractive? He must have been stressed at the idea of confronting his brother and not thinking clearly. She seemed to grow more attractive every time he saw the damned woman.