A vision in her night clothes.
Ada gaped. Feet bare and golden hair tousled from sleep, the woman hurried toward them clad only in a sheer nightrail. A filmy white robe as revealing as the shift itself fluttered uselessly behind her as she rushed toward them.
Without a word, the woman launched herself off of the bottom step into Edison’s arms.
He grunted as she slammed into his chest. Every ounce of his attention focussed on this vision, he grinned and twirled her about. “Cherise. I’ve missed you.”
“Have not,” the beauty retorted, her ripe lips entirely too close to his.
He laughed. “Only as much as you missed me.”
“Fair enough, you brute.” The woman laughed as well, tipping her head back, baring her white throat.
Watching their intimate byplay, Ada felt as if she’d vanished into the flamboyant wallpaper.
Edison let the woman slide down his body until her naked feet touched the floor. “I need a favor.”
“Oh?” One delicate brow arched. She looked between them, curiosity glinting in her pretty eyes.
Edison set his hands on his hips. “Mrs. Templeton is in a… situation.”
Ada rolled her eyes. One might call it that, if one were given to the extreme opposite of exaggeration.
She clasped her hands together. “Someone attempted to kill me.”
“That’s quite a situation.” The woman showed far less surprise than Ada would have expected.
“Hence the need for a disguise,” Edison said. “I was hoping you might have something at the theater that would do. Something an invisible type of woman would wear.” He stopped, searching for words. “A housekeeper or a governess, something of that nature.”
Miss Parvenue’s Parisienne perfume drifted about the entryway as she circled Ada. “She already looks like a governess.” The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “Sorry, luv.”
Ada shrugged. It was nothing but the truth. The dove gray walking dress had seemed an excellent choice for travel and for working at the Navy’s secret workshop, but now that she was faced with this beautiful creature in her frothy, frilly night clothes in her frothy, frilly home, Ada felt distinctly drab.
The woman wrapped her robe around herself and tied the sash, then she stood back, assessing Ada as if she were a painting one might consider purchasing, if only it came with a nicer frame. “If it’s invisible you want, only the demimonde’ll do.”
Edison snorted. “I’m hoping to hide her, not set every dog in the village after her scent.”
Miss Parvenue eyed him as if he had the brains of tinned beef. “Who looks at women like me?” She brushed her hair back off her shoulders. “Upstanding women pass us as if we don’t exist, and men…” She threw up her hands. “Men are not interested in our faces.”
Brow furrowed, Edison tapped a finger against his lips and studied Ada, his gaze rake her from head to toe.
Ada clenched her fists. Being gawked at as if she were a prize sheep at auction was beginning to wear.
“Can you do it?” he asked finally.
Ada didn’t care for the doubt in his tone.
Edison’s friend winked at her. “She’s got the goods. Just needs a bit of fancy. A bit of daring.”
Ada cringed. Fancy, she might be able to fake, but not daring. She opened her mouth to protest, but Edison’s look stopped her. She sucked in a deep breath. She promised. Whatever he said.
She huffed. “Fine.”
Miss Parvenue bounced up and down on her bare toes and clapped her hands. “Come on then.” She grabbed Ada by the arm. “We’ve got some work ahead of us.”
As she pulled Ada toward the stairs, Edison turned to the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Ada froze. “Where are you going?”
“Need to send a telegram. Time to bring the league in on this.”
“But—” Ada started to protest.
“Your grandmother’ll be safe with the Hapgoods.” He grabbed his hat and left.
“Come on then.” Miss Parvenue led the way up the stairs. “Annabelle?” she called out to the maid, “draw a bath.”
“I’m Cherise,” she offered as she tugged Ada up the stairs.
“Ada,” she responded, her attention on the lush paintings lining the stairwell.
“A strong name,” Cherise observed. “I like it. Come on, Ada, we’ve a great deal to do.”
Ada followed her up the stairs like a dowdy old pigeon waddling after a proud swan. Even in her delicate night clothes, the woman’s confidence, her comfort in her own skin, showed through.
A comfort—a confidence—Ada was painfully aware she didn’t possess.
A few bits of satin couldn’t create miracles.
She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d end up looking more like a sow’s ear than a silk purse.
*
Cherise’s boudoir was a vision out of a scandalous novel.
Tall posts edged in gilt and topped by an imposing silk canopy, towered above the bed, which held center stage. Piled high with downy quilts and an overabundance of feather pillows, it seemed poised for the next scandalous performance.
The artwork covering the walls sent the whole vision over the top. Naked women stared at her from every direction. Naked women lounging about on plump pillows. Naked women frolicking in forest glades. Naked women… oh, goodness.
Ada put a hand to her throat. Cheeks burning, she tore her gaze away from the randy scenes.
Much better to focus on the beaten copper tub tucked into the opposite corner of the room. Cherise must have been readying her toilette, as the maid was already pouring buckets of steaming water into the tub.
The whole room smelled of Cherise’s sensual perfume.
Like the decor, the combination of patchouli and jasmine suggested a rich, languid sensuality.
“In you go.” Cherise pointed at the half-full tub.
Ada stared down at the white bubbles. “There’s no need to go to such trouble.”
“I’m an actress, luv.” She held Ada’s gaze, her kohl-rimmed eyes bright and expressive. “The first lesson is to get into character.” She waved a hand at the bath. “From the ground up.”
The maid, Annabelle, stood shoulder to shoulder with her mistress, forming a wall of female determination Ada knew she couldn’t budge. She sighed and began undoing the tiny buttons that ran from neck to waist.
Once she’d slipped out of her dress, Annabelle had her bustle and petticoats off in a trice. Heavy with whalebone, her corset slapped down on top of the undergarments.
It took Ada a moment to get up the courage to remove her shift. She’d never thought herself unduly modest, but she’d never undressed in front of an audience before, either.
“Here you go.” Cherise held up a linen towel between them.
Ada sent her a grateful smile and shrugged out of her shift. She pressed the towel to her, holding the top above her breasts and scurried over to the tub.
Hot and lilac-scented, the water was divine. Ada groaned and slid under the bubbles.
Cherise perched on the edge of the tub. “Nothing in the world a hot bath won’t fix, is there?”
Ada grinned. “Thank you.”