Page 77 of Barbarous

“But you usually wear them.” He paused. “In fact, you haven’t worn them all evening. Why?”

A frown puckered her brow and she gave him an adorably mulish frown. “What of it?”

“Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“Rowena says men find them disfiguring.”

“Your maid is a fool. Where are they?” He glanced at her bedside table and reached for the drawer.

Daphne flung herself across the bed after him. “No! Wait!”

But he’d already opened the drawer and looked inside. There were her tiny spectacles—right next to a copy of Fanny Hill. Hugh flicked the cover open to the flyleaf and snorted: his copy of Fanny Hill.

She twisted her hands. “It is not what you think.”

“Oh?” he said, raising his brows. “Tell me, what do I think?”

“I didn’t steal it—I was going to return it.”

Hugh laughed. “Believe me, darling, that is not what I was thinking.” He shut the book and took out the spectacles.

They were unusual, a horizontal line running across the bottom third. He held them up and saw there were different magnifications in each lens. He suspected she needed them quite badly.

He handed them to her. “Put them on.”

She snatched them from his hand, but put them on nonetheless. She probably hoped it would help him forget about the pilfered book. Hugh smiled and stored the information away for later use.

“Are you always this bossy?” she demanded.

“Always. You might as well accustom yourself to obeying me as I shall soon be your lord and master.”

“There is still plenty of time for me to change my mind.”

Hugh stepped back to admire the intoxicating view of her prim glasses, delicious body, and petulant scowl. “No,” he said, well pleased with the picture she made. “There isn’t.”

She grabbed them off her face and crossed her arms.

He smiled at the small rebellion. “Come, Daphne, put them back on. There is something I want to show you and I should like you to see it. Clearly.” He lowered himself into the chair across from the bed and assumed the position of a man prepared to wait as long as it took. She stared for a moment before making a small huffing sound and putting on her glasses.

“Good girl,” he said deliberately.

She reached a hand up to the fragile frame as if in challenge. Hugh raised his eyebrows, genuinely curious as to what she would do and quite certain any outcome would afford him entertainment.

With much exaggeration, she lowered her hand and crossed her arms. “Very well, what is it that you were going to show me, my lord?”

Hugh stretched his legs and kicked off his evening shoes, one at a time.

Her chest rose, the action pushing her delectable breasts higher.

He removed his stockings, taking his time while he released and rolled down one, and then the other, all the while watching her. She sat up straighter, craning her neck to watch, her eyes hidden from him by the candlelight glinting off her spectacles.

“I’m going to undress,” he said, not caring that his explanation was redundant. “Members of our class typically do so in their separate rooms or in the dark.” He smiled as he stood, unbuttoned his coat, and then peeled it off his hot, pounding body. He paused. “I should have asked—would you like to watch me undress or do you prefer I do so in the dark?”

She swallowed hard enough that Hugh could hear it. “I should like to watch you undress.”

Hugh could almost hear the blood go thundering to his cock and was mildly surprised there’d been any left elsewhere in his body. He tossed his coat onto the chair he had just vacated but paused in the act of removing his cravat. He first removed the emerald cravat pin and set it on the side table, moving closer to the bed as he untied his neckcloth, pulled it off, and then tossed it onto the chair behind him.

Her eyes followed his fingers as he began unbuttoning his waistcoat and he slowed down to savor her rapt attention. When he finished the last button he shrugged out of the garment, the action pulling open the slit that ran down the center of his shirt.