“No, I shouldn’t think so. I have no difficulty taking short people seriously.”
“Really? But then, it makes no difference, mon cher.” Colette provocatively twitched the gauze drapery she had flung about her. “Perhaps you could take me more seriously were I...less hampered with these robes.”
“It is possible.”
She wagged her head with mock despair, and allowed him an alluring view of her bosom by rearranging the draperies. “I know what it is! You find it difficult to take anything seriously all trussed up in that skin-tight coat and breeches. Nothing is so conducive to serious thinking as being unrestricted, I promise you.”
Dexterously she relieved him of these offending items, in addition to his remaining apparel. “There, I told you so. You are thinking better already,” she announced proudly, with a swish of her draperies, as she vaulted onto the bed. “You must not try that,” she cautioned. “When Sir Geoffrey did so the whole bed went whoosh-bang! This is a stronger bed, of course, but he had to pay for it, and I should not like the inconvenience of having to have yet another bed made, though I know you could afford it.”
Colette made room for him to slide into bed beside her. The problem with Colette, he thought ruefully, was that she never stopped talking. Her enthusiasm could not be faulted, nor her skill, but her talent for mimicry seemed to burst into flower under the influence of sexual excitement, and he was treated to Sir Geoffrey’s more inane maxims and Lord Clafford’s most daunting observations on Greek culture, all delivered in perfect tone of voice.
“Ah, yes, I like that,” Colette murmured before quoting Lady Bufton’s comments upon spying Colette in Bond Street with her Scotch terrier. “And do you know, she has not the least right to complain of my Muffit, for I have seen her myself driving in the park with the silliest little chihuahua perched on her lap. And such a lap! Ralph Drew said...Oh, Lord...”
Momentarily speechless, Colette regarded him with enormous eyes.
“As you say, my dear.” When he could tell that she was recovered enough and about to launch forth once more, he stayed her by placing a finger on her lips. “If I don’t ask you now, I fear I won’t have another chance. My nephew is coming to London and I think he would benefit from acquaintance with an experienced woman...and one who would not bend his ear, Colette,” he said mournfully.
“Bah, everyone says I talk too much. It is not that I talk too much, Stronbert, but that sometimes I forget who I am talking to. Once I mimicked Sir Geoffrey to Sir Geoffrey! You would think that would cause a catastrophe, no? Well, it did not! He did not even recognize his own words, paperskull that he is. Now when I did the same with James Akers, he leaped from the bed, red in the face and still...”
“Colette. Do you mimic me?”
She cocked her head to one side and regarded him pertly. “You? You never say enough for me to catch the right inflection.” Folding her hands demurely, she leaned back on the pillows and commanded, “Speak to me and I will memorize your every word for my next performance.”
Stronbert cast his eyes heavenward. “Give me strength. Do you have anyone in mind for my nephew?”
“But certainly. Mrs. Frazier is just the one. So charming, so attractive, and she used to be a governess,” Colette declared virtuously.
“Perfect,” Stronbert replied dryly, but his eyes acknowledged her mischief. “I must leave if I am to finish my errands in town and be off tomorrow.”
“I shan’t see you again?”
“Not this trip.”
“And do you not take me more seriously now?” she asked with a grin.
“Only so long as I am unrestricted by my clothing.”
Chapter Fourteen
After Lady Gorham and Cassandra left Tetterton for Peshre Abbey, Alicia renewed her determination to finish putting the store in order. She suggested some rearrangements of merchandise to Mr. Allerton for his opinions. This led to a general reorganization that absorbed her days completely.
Felicia continued to work in the cottage decorating various bonnets and other items—slippers, parasols, fans. In addition she made the rest of the seat covers for the chairs and relegated to the tiny attic those pieces of furniture which were unsightly. Her rides with the Clintons continued daily, and she was a frequent visitor at the Court, where the dowager marchioness occasionally asked her to design a gown or day dress from some disagreeable material she had accumulated over the years. Felicia patiently rejected the materials offered and brought swatches from the shop which she thought more appropriate. The dowager usually gave in reluctantly, and Felicia would then discuss with Miss Carnworth what she had in mind and leave sketches.
When Stronbert returned to the Court, he found Rowland anxious to speak with him. The young man ran a distracted hand through his blond hair and said, “Felicia does not seem much easier with me, Uncle Nigel. She talks to me and rides with me, but she seems almost afraid to smile at me or to let me lift her down from a horse.”
“It has only been a few weeks, Rowland. She’s probably afraid of encouraging you. She is too young to understand that you would not take advantage of her.” Stronbert sighed. “I have spoken with Colette and will give you the name of a woman to contact in London if you wish to. That is your own decision.”
Rowland did not meet his uncle’s eyes but murmured, “Thank you. I thought to visit London after returning home.”
“How is your mother? Is Dorothy anxious to return to her?”
“Mother is well and seems to miss Dorothy. I think we won’t stay above a week longer now,” he said sadly.
“You are welcome here at any time, Rowland. Go to London and Bath. Your parents will be desirous of seeing you and I have no doubt you have friends in the neighborhood. When you tire of that, come back here. It will probably be easier for Felicia to mend with you away. She is going to be lonely when you and Dorothy leave, though.” He sat thoughtfully silent for a while. “Perhaps we should have a party with dancing for the young people before you leave.”
“So that Felicia will meet all the young men in the neighborhood?” Rowland asked bitterly.
“And their sisters, nephew. Would you rather she had no entertainment when you left?” Stronbert eyed his relative gravely.
Rowland shamefacedly muttered, “No, sir, of course not. I want her to be happy.”
“Good. I will speak with Dorothy and my mother about whom to invite.” Stronbert placed a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder and said encouragingly, “As I said before, where the proper degree of attachment exists, it will last.”
“You do not think I should speak with her about how I feel?”
“It would be very unwise. I would simply tell her that I intended to return.” Stronbert shrugged elaborately. “God, Rowland, you must act as you see fit. No one can make these decisions for you.”
“I know,” the young man said with a grin. “But you always seem to know what is best.”
“Far from it,” Stronbert replied soberly. His gaze wandered to the window for a moment before he recalled himself and said indolently, “But when I was your age I thought I did.”
Rowland laughed. “I used to think I did, too, before I met Felicia.”
“Fine. There is hope for you.” Stronbert watched his nephew stroll from the library as he tried to imagine what he could possibly need from Lady Coombs’s shop that day.
Alicia experienced a moment of profound relief when she looked up from the thread drawer to see Lord Stronbert entering the shop with Miss Carnworth. It was ridiculous to endow him with magical powers, she scolded herself, but he had been gone and somehow she felt safer when he was around.
Stronbert did not miss the brief expression. He identified it for what it was and ruefully decided that it was better than nothing. His smile was relaxed, unconcerned as he greeted her. “We have determined to have a party for the young people in a few days. My niece and nephew must return to their home. I hope you and Felicia will honor us with your presence.”
&n
bsp; “How kind of you. I am sure we have no other engagements to stand in our way,” she replied, her eyes mocking.
“And I hope that you will feel it proper for Felicia to join the dancing. Dorothy would be disappointed could her friend not take part.”
“Why, yes, I could not deny Felicia such a treat. She deserves a chance to enjoy herself with people of her own age.”
Stronbert nodded his agreement. “I have asked Miss Carnworth to make Dorothy a new gown for the occasion. Perhaps you would help her select a fabric.”
“And perhaps Felicia would assist with the design,” Miss Carnworth contributed bluntly.
“Have a look around and I will fetch her,” Alicia suggested, as she gently closed the thread drawer. “I will be but a moment.” She ignored Stronbert’s look of protest and left through the rear of the shop.
When she returned with Felicia, the girl beamed on Stronbert and exclaimed, “Mama has told me of the party! I shall look forward to it.” Her face clouded then and she said, “But I shall miss Dorothy and Rowland. They have been so good to me.”
“And they will miss you, my child. I think Dorothy would like to pack you away in a trunk and take you with her,” Stronbert said.
Felicia laughed, and Alicia wondered that her daughter could be so at ease with this man when she was still so timid with Rowland. Perhaps it was that he had comforted her when she was so upset, or again that she thought of Lord Stronbert more as a father. The thought made Alicia flush and she turned to Miss Carnworth to assist in the selection of a fabric. A sapphire-blue velvet was chosen and Felicia mused, “I have just seen the most delightful creation in one of the magazines, Miss Carnworth. It would have to be modified slightly for Dorothy because of her height, but I believe it would be just the thing. Would you mind coming to the cottage with me for a moment?”
“Of course not,” the good lady replied stoutly. She turned to Stronbert and said, “Perhaps you have other errands to run, Nigel. I should not be above half an hour.”
“There is no hurry,” he replied easily.
When Stronbert made no attempt to leave and the women had disappeared, Alicia turned to him somewhat nervously. “Can I show you something else, sir?”
“No. I will wait here for Miss Susan, if you have no objection, that is.”
“Of course not.” She searched for some topic of conversation and settled at last on, “I presume Lady Mary is well, since Dorothy and Rowland are going home.”
“Yes, she has completely recovered.”
There was a pause and Alicia asked hesitantly, “Did you have a good trip?”
He studied her thoughtfully and replied, “I am not sure, frankly. The results remain to be seen.”
“A matter of business then.”
“Not precisely.”
“Oh.” His gaze on her was disconcerting and she turned aside to replace a bolt of cloth they had been considering. “I heard from Lady Gorham yesterday. She had a great deal to say about the roads, but I gather they had a relatively uneventful journey home. I miss her.”
“We shall have to convince her to come again soon then.”
“There is little likelihood of that. She has family still at home and the holidays are not so far away now. She has invited us to go to her then, but I do not see how we can.”
“Why not?”
“I cannot simply abandon the shop, Lord Stronbert,” Alicia said a little sharply.
“I daresay Mr. Allerton could manage,” he drawled.
“Not for so long,” she retorted.
“Could he manage for a few hours tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“So that you might go riding with me.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because you have been working so hard that you are beginning to snap,” he said firmly. “You need some fresh air and exercise.”
“I am flattered that you should concern yourself, but I assure you that I am perfectly healthy.” Alicia grew uncomfortable under his uncompromising gaze and said faintly, “Perhaps you are right. I do need to get away from the shop for a while, but there is no need for you to trouble yourself. I can ride with Felicia.”
“I will bring a mare for you tomorrow at twelve, at your cottage.” His tone was insistent but his eyes were gentle. “The weather is like to hold fine. I will bring a picnic hamper.”
She nodded slowly. “As you wish. Thank you.”
Stronbert then assumed the direction of their conversation, talking of the members of his household and their backgrounds. He had counseled patience for Rowland, and he had thought to pursue the same course. It was not impetuosity that led him to this move, however, but the sudden realization that Lady Coombs would become more resolved in her fear the longer she was allowed to live with it in isolation. Her daughter was young and without previous male contact. Lady Coombs had suffered altogether too much of the wrong sort of male contact. He was determined on a course of re-educating her. When Miss Carnworth returned, he bid Lady Coombs farewell and they took their leave.
Alicia and her daughter each chose a fabric to make new gowns, although Alicia laughed that they would never show any profit at this rate. When Felicia put back the fabric she had been examining and said, “I do not really need a new gown, Mama; I have the blue satin,” Alicia hugged her.
“Do not be a goose. I was merely jesting, my love. The reason we have the shop is that there will be some income for our out-go. Otherwise our funds would have lasted but a few years. With the shop we may live reasonably and for as long as we work.” And so Felicia took the two pieces of fabric to the cottage and sat down to consider some really special design for her mother.
When Alicia arrived, her daughter had sketched a gown with low neck, high waistline and a skirt tighter and shorter in front than in back. There was to be ruching at the wrists and a diadem of fall flowers.
Felicia was so enthusiastic about it that Alicia’s feeble, “Do you not think perhaps it is a little revealing?” was brushed aside.
“Heavens, no, Mama. Come and see these pictures in the magazine. Why, this is all modesty by comparison.”
Alicia did not protest further, but thanked her daughter for the design. “Oh, I intend to make it for you as well, Mama, as you will be busy. You can help me in the evenings sometimes. Though really,” she said thoughtfully, “you should more beneficially take a walk in the evening. You are cooped up too much in the shop.”
“So Lord Stronbert informs me,” Alicia said dryly. “He is to take me riding tomorrow.”
“Good for him. Is he not the kindest man?”
“Yes, my dear.” Alicia bent over the sketches determined to think no more of his lordship.
* * * *
She did, however, don an attractive riding dress the next day at her daughter’s insistence. Felicia would not countenance the drab beige outfit her mother had taken to wearing. She had been almost impatient with her mother, and had gone herself to retrieve from the wardrobe the riding dress Alicia had had made shortly before her husband’s death. The royal blue jacket was molded to her form, with a velvet collar and a waistline in its proper place, flaring out below. The high-crowned hat had a buckle and the dress was not so full as her previous riding outfits.
“Much better,” Felicia pronounced. “There is Lord Stronbert now. You are just in time.”
Alicia felt unaccountably nervous in the becoming outfit. And the admiration in Stronbert’s eyes made her more so. He did not attempt to hide it; it was part of his training program. “We have a lovely day for our ride, Lady Coombs, and you grace it perfectly,” he said lazily as he assisted her onto the horse he had brought for her. “The mare’s name is Muse, and she is rather spirited. I thought you would prefer that.”
Alicia assented and ran a hand over the black mare’s neck. “You have no hamper,” she said accusingly, not because she feared that she would not eat but because she had hoped that a groom would be riding with them to bear it.
“I have had
it left at our picnic spot,” he informed her as he mounted.
“And where is that?”
“On the estate. I think you will like it.”
Once they reached the lodge gates and entered, Stronbert led the way to the west away from the carriage path. Without consulting her, he set his horse to the gallop and she gladly did likewise. It had been a very long time since she had ridden a horse like Muse, highly bred and mannered, with easy paces and controlled power. Stronbert drew in as they entered the home wood and smiled at her. “She’s an excellent little goer, is she not?”
“I have not ridden better,” Alicia admitted, returning his smile.
They rode around a hill and came upon the waterfall, with the stream rushing off below. There was a hamper set out on a cloth, a bottle of wine in the stream. Alicia exclaimed involuntarily, “What an enchanting spot!”
“I thought you would like it.” He dismounted and stood by her. “May I help you down?”
Alicia agreed and felt his firm hands about her waist. They dropped from her the moment her feet touched ground and he said, “Would you rather walk about for a while or have luncheon now?”
“The ride has given me an appetite,” she confessed, “and I do not know that I shall have time for a walk.”
“I feel sure you will,” he responded gently. “Will you set the food out?”
Alicia opened the hamper and grinned at the assortment of treats within. “Did you tell them that there were only two people to eat all of this?”
“I have a remarkably large appetite,” he retorted laconically. “These are my favorites,” he commented as he lifted a stuffed mushroom. “Will you try one?”
Alicia silently extended her hand for the mushroom he held out to her. Their fingers brushed as she accepted it and her eyes met his as she lifted it to her mouth.
“You are not cold, are you?” he asked, obviously concerned at her shiver.
“No, no.” She continued to chew the bite in her mouth while he retrieved the wine from the stream and produced two glasses. “I am not sure that I should have any wine,” she protested.
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