By Julia Quinn
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Additional resources for An Offer from a Gentleman (Bridgerton Series Book 03)
The jeweled slippers were tucked neatly back in Araminta's closet, and the rouge the maid had used for her lips was resting in its place on Rosamund's dressing table. She'd even taken five minutes to massage the skin on her face, to remove the indentations left by the mask. Sophie looked as she always looked before bed—plain, simple, and unassuming, her hair pulled into a loose braid, her feet tucked into warm stockings to keep out the chill night air. She was back to looking what she was in truth—nothing more than a housemaid.
All she could seem to do was stare up at him, at those dark, dark eyes peering at her from behind his mask. Speech was impossible. Even breathing was difficult. "You still haven't danced with me," he said. She didn't move, just stood there as his large hand came to rest at the small of her back. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and the air grew thick and hot. This was desire, Sophie realized. This was what she'd heard the maids whispering about. This was what no gently bred lady was even supposed to know about.
But this woman—whose name he still didn't even know—went deeper, beyond the whats and into the whys. " he queried. She shook her head. " She sighed, and her eyes grew nostalgic. "The grass, I suppose, and maybe the leaves. But mostly the grass. The way it feels when one runs barefoot in the summer. " "Nothing, I suppose. And maybe everything. " She caught herself. She hadn't meant to tell him even that much, but there didn't seem to be harm in his knowing such an innocent fact. " he asked quietly.