Mutely, Malou nodded feeling gratitude flood through her. Whoever had thought that buttons on such dresses was a fine idea most certainly had not been in this position, nor had they gone without a maid. Malou, who had experienced both things fervently wished she not let Mrs. Bagshot run rampant with her trousseau. Only Merlin knew what other hellish contraptions she might placed in Malou's traveling trunk. Perhaps she ought to have paid at least a bit more attention to her clothes.

It was easier to consider clothes then the doubts that had plagued her when she considered this moment. So instead of focusing on them again, she watched Faustus's face as he took over for her. His warm hands brushed bare skin as the first button was undone and Malou shivered, surprised to find the sensation so much more intimate than she had expected.