Cooper White Long Sleeve Ruffle Shirt
Beauregard skeptically eyed the outfit that Veronica held aloft; a white cambric shirt in her right hand, a pair of leather pants in her left. The look on her face indicated that she was entirely serious about her choice of attire. Beau took the blouse and examined it closely. The high, laced neck cascaded into the ruffle detailing over the chest, and the wide sleeves gathered into long, thin cuffs lined with adjustable laces. The effect was Victorian—Steampunk, Veronica had said—and he grimaced, “I’m not some romantic hero in a flouncy shirt!”
She returned his look with a steely gaze. “No, you’re a vampire I found half-comatose in a moldy flouncy shirt.” Had Beau any blood left in his veins, he would’ve blushed.
“You’re supposed to help me modernize my wardrobe, not dress me up in clothes I wore 200 years ago!”
“This is modern!” She threw the pants more forcefully than he’d expected, and they slapped him in the face with all the sting of a whip, “Now put on the damn outfit!”
Beau regarded Veronica for several moments. He had slumbered for two centuries before she had stumbled upon his resting place and woken him. And while his initial reaction had been to feast—it had been so long since he’d had such warm, fresh blood—there was something about her that struck him as unusual. Something about her that marked her as “not for eating.”
But if not that, then what? The thought plagued him even now as he begrudgingly began to dress.