“Wonderful!”
He stood and pulled the rope on the wall that called a footman to the room.
“Now, as for your mother, of course, you are free to go whenever you like. I’ll have a carriage called for you now since I assume you still wish to visit her today?”
“Yes, but…”
“I hope you don’t mind, we are taking the family coach, but I can have Henry drive you in the Barouche. It won’t take him but a moment to get it ready.”
“Your Grace,” Ella said, coming to stand as well, “that is very kind of you, but I am happy to walk.”
The Duke studied her for only a moment in surprise.
“Absolutely not,” he spoke firmly. “In fact, I think it best if you had a maid with you as well. She can wait in the carriage if you like, but I want Henry to take you there and back home.”
“Your Grace, I have walked the streets of London all my life,” Ella laughed off. “I have no need for a driver or a maid. If you would like I can call a cab, but I don’t need so much trouble on my account.”
“It is no trouble,” the Duke dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “And I insisted. You may have walked the streets before, but I dare say it would have been much safer for you to do so then than now. You may not feel it, but you are a fine miss now.”
Ella looked down at her dress as the Duke mentioned it. She was wearing one of her new cotton walking dresses and the slippers that Lady Pamala had insisted she borrow.
“You would be a target to any villain or rake that crossed your path,” the Duke informed her. “In my charge, you will be well looked after and protected. I must insist you take the carriage. Ah! There you are.” He turned at the entrance of a footman. “Go and tell Henry to get the Barouche ready and pulled up front. Miss Ward will be spending the afternoon visiting her mother.”
The footman took his instructions and discreetly left the room. The Duke turned back to Ella, a broad grin on his face.
Ella could only think of how her mother would react when she arrived not only in new clothes but with a fancy carriage, driver, and maid to boot.
Realizing she didn’t share in his happy demeanour at the plans he’d made, he took a step forward. He was near enough to touch her, and his rich scent of lemongrass soap and leather alone made her catch her breath.
He delicately took both her hands in his. It was like bolts of electricity shooting up her arms as his larger bare hands squeezed her soft, delicate ones.
“Ella,” he said softly.
Hearing her name on his lips sent her eyes shooting up to meet his.
“You are a member of this family now. It’s my duty to protect you. I could never live with myself if something were to happen to you due to my negligence.”
He spoke so sincerely it melted Ella’s heart. In so many other aspects of life, he had seemed standoffish and aloof. It was clear this was one area he refused to let his hardened disposition affect. He considered it his responsibility, his job, to keep the women in his life safe, well taken care of, and wanting for nothing.
“I am not the sort of woman who knows how to be kept,” Ella attempted to explain her hesitancy.
He released one of her hands and used his thumb to brush her cheek.
“I know.” He smiled down at her. “You are far too strong and independent for that. I’m glad for it as well, for you will undoubtedly need your strength tonight as you are presented before the height of society.
“Nevertheless, there are many advantages to this world, but there are a great many disadvantages. It is my job to ensure you don’t experience any of those disadvantages if I can help it. Even if I am quite sure that you would be more than capable of fending for yourself.”
Ella let her check rest ever so slightly into his warm touch. She certainly wasn’t the type of woman to be kept, and she didn’t think she ever would be. That being said, however, she did like the feeling of knowing that someone felt concerned for her.
“There is something about you that is just so enchanting,” the Duke continued in a much deeper voice. “Though you have fit in so well in this world, you are nothing like the ladies I have encountered over the years.”
He took a half-step closer, removing any little gap that was left between them. Letting go of her other hand, he encircled his arm around her waist. He was searching her eyes with his own. His moments were slow and gentle, allowing her the chance to stop him.
She was entirely surprised at how much she didn’t want him to stop. She knew in her head that nothing could ever come from this moment. He was a Duke, and she was a silly little seamstress not even good enough to work in Covent Garden.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. As infuriating as he had been, there was also something within his heart that she only caught a glance at. She was desperate to know more of that man inside, hidden behind the thick wall he almost always had around him.
The Duke tipped his head slowly, and Ella closed her eyes. She didn’t know if this was wrong, improper, or impossible. The Duke of Winthrope was about to kiss her, and she was more than ready to let him.
She could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. She had never kissed a man before but instinctively knew that the moment was about to happen.
In the very moment that his lips touched hers, a soft knock came to the door. Ella immediately hopped back with a yelp, not unlike one Scrappers might make. The Duke’s hold on her had been loose. His arms quickly came to his side, just as surprised as she was.
He smiled, let out a little chuckle, rubbing one hand down his face and tossing his hair in a very un-duke-like fashion.
A small girl entered and curtsied.
“I was told I am to accompany Miss Ward in the city today, Your Grace.”
“Yes, of course.” The Duke motioned her into the room.
“Also, the Dowager Duchess wanted me to remind you that both she and Lady Pamala are ready and waiting for you in the drawing-room, Your Grace,” she added just as timidly.
Ella expected she had never actually spoken to the Duke before this moment. She was covered in coal and Ella recognized her as the maid who cleaned out the fires and chamber pots. The poor thing was probably given the job to accompany her on top of all her other duties.
Ella determined she would find a way to make up for this inconvenience. Perhaps she could help sweep some of the hearths when they returned to speed the maid’s chores along?
“Right,” the Duke said, turning back to Ella. “If you will excuse me,” he said with a bowed. “I suppose I won’t see you again until tonight at the ball. Don’t forget our dance, for I know I certainly won’t,” he added with a wicked gleam in his eye before exiting the room.
Ella waited till the Duke was completely gone and the maid had shut the door behind him before she collapsed back down into her seat. Her legs had gone entirely to jelly, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding since their almost-kiss.
“Are you all right, Miss Ward?” the maid rushed forward, probably thinking Ella had fainted. “Shall I get you some smelling salts?”
“I think I will need something stronger than salts, I believe I have just gone mad,” Ella said while giggles bubbled out of her.
“Miss?” the small maid looked down at her with a mixture of confusion and worry.
“It’s nothing. I just need to catch my breath I think,” Ella said, trying to gain control of her emotions.
“I don’t blame you, miss. His Grace is so fierce-looking. He scares me too, you know,” the maid finished in a whisper.
Ella couldn’t help but let a smile slip at the honest look on the little maid’s face. She must have thought that Ella had nearly fainted out of fear of being in his presence.
“He isn’t all that bad. Hard shell, but inside I expect he is like pudding,” Ella replied in a conspiratorial tone. “Now come. I am sorry for the bother it is to you, but it looks like we will both be off to see my mother this
afternoon,” Ella finished, hoisting herself back up from the plush chair with a lightness within she had never experienced before.
Chapter 18
Ella listened to the familiar tinkling of the bell as the front door to her mother’s shop swung open beneath her touch. It was comforting. Everything else, however, was not at all as she remembered it.
The shop was crammed full of people all vying for attention. Though one of her older designs hung in the window, it was not of her making but rather a rendition of one of last Season’s drawings. There were also several fabrics curtained around it in the shop window to perhaps give pattern options.
Two girls in simple black dresses with white aprons were hurrying from customer to customer as they were called upon. There was a new section of ribbons and buttons that three young ladies seemed to be intently searching for the best option.
“I must have some green ribbon for tonight's ball,” one girl spoke desperately.
“Perhaps another shop, this one seems to be all out of green,” her companion motioned to an empty spool.
“No, if it’s not from Mrs Ward’s, then it won’t be worth having at all,” the first responded.
Ella couldn’t believe her ears. Never in all her life did she consider ever hearing such words spoken and certainly not over some plain ribbon.
Ella’s focus drifted beyond the chaos to the familiar sound of her mother’s voice. There, standing at the counter, was Mrs Ward, though looking a bit strained, looking well-rested and healthy.
Ella smiled as she too recognized the familiar customer her mother was speaking to. She felt a little relief in knowing that even though so much had seemed to change in the last few months, there was still one thing that was the same.
Mrs Ward was calmly speaking to Mrs Hanson over a brown paper parcel. Ella didn’t have to look inside to guess that it was Mr Hanson’s shirts. Working as a clerk for a solicitor’s office, he often spilt ink on his shirt—Ella guessed he was a bit of a clumsy man though she had never met him herself—requiring Mrs Hanson to buy new ones monthly along with her usual purchases.
“Really Mrs Ward, an increase in price hardly seems fair to a long-standing patron like myself,” Mrs Hanson was heard saying as Ella navigated her way closer.
“I’m sorry Mrs Hanson, it is a necessary evil. As you can see, we are much busier now. I won’t be charging you the full price this time, but I must inform you that from here on out your purchases will need to reflect the new fees as we discussed when you put your order in,” Mrs Ward spoke calmly.
She passed over a small pamphlet that Ella guessed had the new prices on it. She was glad to hear that her mother was charging more. They had always kept their prices at the bare minimum possible, and sometimes even at cost, simply to encourage regular patrons. Now it seemed that Mrs Ward had enough orders to ask a fair price, and, even more surprising, was doing so.
“And what do you think will happen to your little shop when all this hub-bub dies down, and you have lost all of your most loyal patrons due to such ridiculous prices,” Mrs Hanson huffed.
The lady had turned and waved her large hand at the small crowd that milled about the shop. Ella could see the flash of concern on her mother’s eyes for just a moment. Perhaps she too thought that this was only a temporary improvement and soon things would go back to the way they once were.
She had to know, however, that even after the excitement of Mr Brummel’s influence had waned, they would never be as they once were. Every day they were developing new contacts, forging new relationships with patrons.
“Can I help you, miss?” A young girl’s voice pulled Ella from the conversation she was watching.
Ella turned and found one of the new shop girls studying her with an expectant air about her.
“I was hoping to have a word with the proprietor,” Ella responded with a pleasant smile.
The shop girl studied her for just a moment, taking in the fact she had come with a maid. Ella had almost entirely forgotten that Josie was there. She had initially thought to ask the maid to wait in the carriage with Henry, but when Josie’s eyes had lit up at their destination, she couldn’t help but allow Josie to accompany her inside.
“May I inform Mrs Ward who is askin’ for her?” the shop girl asked.
It was plain to see she was working hard to sound refined.
“Miss Ward, her daughter,” Ella said with a pleasant smile. “Josie, would you be so kind as to look for some white feathers for me?” Ella asked, hoping to shoo the little maid away before she met her mother.
Ella knew her mother was already unhappy with Ella’s current situation. There was no telling what she would say if Ella walked up to her with a maid in tow.
The shop girl nodded—a bit wide-eyed—and navigated her way through the shop and to her mother’s side just as Mrs Hanson turned with an indignant huff.
She watched as the shop girl whispered in her mother’s ear. It only took a second for Mrs Ward to find her daughter, despite the milling crowd.
“Good morning, Mrs Hanson,” Ella said with a quick curtsy as the lady passed her.
Mrs Hanson paused in her tracks for a second as she tried to remember who it was addressing her.
“Miss Ward?” she finally said, surprised.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I heard you were taken in by a well-to-do family.” Mrs Hanson eyed her sceptically down her slightly crooked nose. “I suppose that is why your mother has such high airs about her prices now.”
“Not taken in, ma’am, just staying with some good friends for a time. I fully expect to return home in due time. Certainly, my mother could use the help as even higher prices don’t seem to deter her excessive popularity. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs Hanson?”
The older woman simply gave a huff of disapproval.
“Good friends indeed. Is it not the Duke of Winthrope’s house you are currently residing at?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am good friends with his sister, Lady Pamala.”
Ella did her best to keep her voice steady despite the woman’s accusatory tone.
“Yes, well, I suppose your mother must be proud that your pretty looks weren’t entirely wasted in the backroom of the shop. I’m sure the Duke of Winthrope finds your presence very entertaining. Oh, and his sister too, of course,” Mrs Henson spoke in a haughty tone.
Ella fumed inside. How dare this lady, who had done nothing but complain and pinch them for every penny they could spare in their prices, now have the gall to infer that she was immoral with her associations?
A few months ago, she would have let her tongue fly at such an accusation. It didn’t matter that Mrs Hanson was one of their oldest patrons, Ella would have let her know precisely what she thought of her.
Now, however, she remembered Lady Pamala’s cautions as they endeavoured to transform her into a lady:
“No doubt there will be some people that look down on you and very smoothly and delicately speak the vilest and shameful words you will ever hear. Don’t rise to the occasion. The easiest way to tell a refined lady of choice from that of birth is her ability to smile and speak kindness among her enemies.”
“I was not aware that you knew the Duke. Shall I pass on your salutations to His Grace when I see him next?” Ella smiled as pleasantly as she could.
Mrs Henson jutted her chin out, making the second and third ones below it wobble a little.
“That won’t be necessary. I only know him by name, unfortunately,” Mrs Henson stuttered out.
Mending the Duke's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 17