Chapter 25

Haven took a seat beside Millie on a plush looking settee, and tried to adjust her dress without popping the seams. Fighting the urge to readjust her bra beneath the frustrating frock, she grimaced.

I should've worn the damn corset.

"Haven, dear, as uncomfortable as the dress may be, you must endeavor to hide your annoyance. Grimacing in company is never good form, and tugging at your dress will only make people wonder if there are rodents in your chemise." Millie's voice was stern, but her eyes danced with laughter.

"I can't help it. Dresses in 2013 aren't as stiff."

Why in the world do regency women wear so many damn underclothes?

She blew out a puff of air, and groaned.

Patting her hand, Millie cajoled, "Well, since you can't disrobe and burn the thing, we can have a much needed chat, and get to know each other." Millie scooted closer, and bent her head. "So, tell me about you in the year two thousand and thirteen."