Alice shot her mother a glare and the woman returned to her needlework, but a small smile played on her lips. Alice, on the other hand, found her mother’s interruption irritating. She cared nothing for impressing this man; on the contrary, she hoped to bore him to the point he would never be able to imagine himself being in her presence for any extended amount of time.
“So, what goes into creating a woman’s hat?” Lord Blackmoore asked with clear interest. Why he would be interested in the creation of a woman’s hat, Alice did not know, but it was a subject in which she was well-versed.
“It is somewhat complicated, My Lord. I am sure it would be difficult for you to follow the many steps it would take.”
The only sign that her barb had indeed caused him discomfort was a bit of reddening of his cheeks. “I am certain I can keep up,” he replied with a laugh.
“Very well. I begin with a shaped piece of linen that I heavily starch so it is stiffened. I then sew on wiring around the edges of the starched linen to help it maintain the desired shape.” She paused dramatically. “I hope I have not lost you,” she said with feigned concern.
“Not at all,” he replied. His laugh was hearty and lacked the irritation she had hoped to garner from the comment. However rather than be irritated by his response, she felt rather pleased. Perhaps he truly was interested in the topic. “Please, continue.”
“Once I have finished adding the wiring, I cover the linen and wiring with my choice of fabrics and ribbons depending on how I will use the hat. I use heavier fabrics for hats I will use outdoors and lighter for indoors. Then I adorn the finished hat with a variety of feathers and bows to compliment the gown I am wearing at the time.”
Lord Blackmoore nodded his head appreciatively. “It does sound quite the process and I admire your accomplishment in that area.”
For whatever reason, the man’s compliment made Alice beam. She could not stop the idiotic smile that spread across her face as her pride swelled from his words. No one, not even her mother and sister, had given her such a compliment, and they used her hats on a regular basis. “I appreciate you saying so,” Alice replied. “And yourself? What is it you enjoy doing? I am not speaking of business deals, of course, as most men pride themselves on their business prowess, but with what do you entertain yourself?” Her mind screamed at her, ‘Why do you care what he enjoys? You were expected to bore him, not engage him.’
She pushed the thoughts aside. What would it hurt to show some kindness, even if he did not deserve it? She would be the one who was demonstrating goodness; something she was certain he did not understand.
He sat for a moment, rubbing his chin, an action which Alice found attractive, much to her angst. “I guess I would say it would be my love of boxing, or at least observing a good boxing match, which I find as a wonderful diversion from everyday life.”
He had a twinkle in his eye as he said this, and Alice recognized the challenge in his voice. What he wanted was to shock her, as such a declaration of enjoying the violence of such a barbaric sport would shock most women. However, Alice was not most women.
“I have heard boxing is a very energetic sport. Perhaps one day you might take me to a match.”
Mrs. Huntington gasped, and Lord Blackmoore’s eyes widened. Alice could not stop herself from drawing her head back and laughing. “Do you not believe that women would be interested in such entertainment?”
“Alice!” her mother said.
Alice laughed again. “Oh, Mother, this is the Nineteenth Century. There is no need for women to hide inside their homes while men are off gallivanting around town. Is that not right, Lord Blackmoore?”
The Earl continued to stare at her, but his shocked expression had turned to one of consideration. From what she had heard, he was of the men who believed a woman’s place was relegated to the home and in the bed, especially the bed, and her words had to come as a surprise.
Despite the earlier happiness at his interest in her pastimes, Alice felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her. What a wonderful feeling it was. Yet, she also felt a bit of regret in her words, for the feeling in the room immediately changed from light to heavy. Perhaps she had gone too far.
“I admit that I must agree with you,” he said to Alice’s utter astonishment. He laughed. “You are surprised? Women have the ability to run a household, so then why not admit they have more than a capability to run a business?”
“Well,” Alice replied, not wishing the man to somehow lead her into some sort of predicament from which she could not relinquish herself. He could be crafty that way. “having the capability and the eligibility of running a business are two different birds, are they not? Few women are given the opportunity to do so.”
“You are correct in your assessment, Miss Huntington,” Lord Blackmoore said with a smile.
When he did not follow with some sort of contradictory statement, Alice sat in stunned silence. This was not what she had expected.
“I for one am tired of hearing about this subject,” Alice’s mother said as she shoved her needlework into the basket beside her. “Is there not a better topic to discuss? Alice, why don’t you tell him a little more about how your hats are made?”
Alice watched Lord Blackmoore’s reaction. He was staring at her with his fingers absently rubbing his chin. Yes, this man was most certainly different from what she had previously thought. Somehow, when he left later that afternoon, she looked forward to his next visit, and the idea confounded her to no end.
Chapter Six
A bird sang a lovely tune from a branch of a large oak which grew in the corner of the garden. Alice did not know what kind of bird it was, but the light twitter sounded much like a goldfinch. She giggled. As if she knew birds. Her mother had wished her to study the winged creatures of their garden, but Alice found knowing the names took away the beauty of their song. She preferred to think of them as winged sprites or tiny faeries rather than animals. Not that she was given to flights of fancy—that was not something her parents wanted for her—but at times she wished to free her mind from the everyday normalities of the world around her.
She closed her eyes and used the moment for just that. The sun warmed her cheeks and she was reminded of the story of Icarus and his failed attempt to fly to the sun. Granted, an English sun was nowhere nearly as warm enough to melt wax on most days, but in her fantasy, it was. With outstretched arms, Alice flew, and the sun became hotter and hotter until, in the end, her wings melted and she fell to the ground.
She giggled again. Of course, she still stood. Her mother would have been apoplectic if she found her elder daughter, the spinster of the family, lying on the path in the garden for any other reason than stumbling due to a twisted ankle, which had happened on more than one occasion, and typically when she wanted to make a point.
“Are you practicing a new dance of some sort?” a low baritone asked from behind her.
Blast the man! she thought. How was it he could startle her on so many occasions?
She turned and Lord Blackmoore stood regally in his long dark coat over a ruffled blue shirt. His trousers hugged his legs nicely and Alice found herself looking away. It was no wonder he could have so many women if they acted as she did at this moment.
It had been several days since the Earl’s last visit, and though they had come to the point of amicability, Alice still felt the need to resist the man’s charms. She was no closed flower bud or naive peasant woman who could easily be taken in by the rouge’s charming ways, and she had spent the time since their previous time together building up the resolve that had begun to crumble. Now she stood stiff and ready for battle once again.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Alice asked haughtily.
He smiled and plucked a flower from a nearby bush, and Alice could not help but feel as if he were reading her mind somehow, for the flower had not completely opened yet. “I wonder if I might walk with you,” he said. “I am here to meet with your father on some business
and he is currently occupied.” She gave him a skeptical look and looked around her. “Worry not,” he added, “he knew you were here alone, so he asked one of your servants…Esther I believe? To accompany us.”
As if invoking the woman Alice had known most of her life, Esther moved from behind a large bush, smiled, and gave a small curtsy. “Miss,” was all she said.
Well, is he not clever? Alice thought. “In all honesty, I would on most occasions love to have you accompany me, but…”
“Wonderful!” he said heartily as he offered her his arm. “Then let us be on our way.”
She stared wide-eyed at his arm for several moments, and he waited patiently until she placed her hand on his sleeve. He smiled warmly and she felt her cheeks heat up. He was a scoundrel, she had no doubt; so, why was his presence so disarming?
“Your gardens are quite lovely,” Lord Blackmoore said as they followed the path. “One day you must come to Shetfield Manor and see the gardens there. I believe you will be quite impressed, although they are not nearly as beautiful as what I see before me.”
Alice shot him a sneer, but he was not looking at her as she had expected, but rather was eying a fountain Alice’s mother had procured just last summer. It was made of white marble that gleamed in the bright sunlight with a large cherub in the middle with a jug that poured water into the pool below. The fact Alice had thought the man was being impudent with her made her cheeks heat up even more. Of course, he was not speaking of her. She was not a woman most men made attempts to conquer, and that was what she preferred.
“Yes, my mother had that fountain brought in from France last summer after she and Father journeyed to Paris. Father was against it in the beginning but is not one to deny my mother anything.”
“Your father is right in doing so,” he said. “It seems he takes great care with everything, and everyone, in his family.” This time he looked directly at Alice, and Alice wondered what game he was playing.
Of course, her defenses immediately rose. This was not the man from the dozens of stories she had heard. No, he was being extremely charming, and she was too intelligent to fall for his games. “Yes, well, he does protect all of his interests.”
There it was, a slight wince. Yet, it was gone so quickly, Alice was unsure it was really there. Perhaps her suspicious nature caused her to imagine it. Regardless, she kept up her defenses, just in case.
One way she could keep him at bay was one that worked every time a man tried to win her over. “I am feeling a bit overheated,” she said as she waved a hand over her face. “I believe I must sit.”
Concern lined his face, but Alice thought it a bit forced. He led her toward a bench only a few paces from where they currently stood. Perfect. Next to the bench was a raised bed that contained a variety of flowers, none with thorns.
“Look there,” she said, pointing at a tall tree in the far corner. “Can you see the robin in the branches?”
Lord Blackmoore shaded his eyes, and as he looked away, she took a step back and ‘stumbled’ over the corner of the flowerbed, pulling at his sleeve in the process in an attempt to catch herself. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the sleeve tore away from his coat and Alice ended up on her backside in the middle of the flowerbed.
“Oh, my!” she gasped theatrically as she held up his sleeve. “I do apologize. I am afraid I stumbled.” She forced a tear into her eye by staring in the direction of the sun, a trick she had learned from a traveling theater show when she was younger.
The Earl stood over her, a mixture of alarm, rage and something she could not recognize on his face. He rapidly shook his head, as if to clear it, and offered Alice a hand that now was attached to a shirt-covered arm. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Alice took his hand with her left and Esther’s in her right, and the two helped her to her feet. Her gray gown was now covered in dirt and Alice swiped at her backside, not missing the look of amusement that had replaced whatever it was that had been on Lord Blackmoore’s face earlier. However, that unknown emotion remained.
“Yes,” she said breathily, a feeling of being closed in coming over her as she looked into the dark pools of his eyes. It was a strange feeling, one she had not felt in many years, and it confused her. She closed her eyes and made an attempt to clear her head. She had done what she planned to do. Now she must use her misfortune to end the visit. “I am afraid that is not the first time I have tripped over that corner.” She shook her head sadly. “I do tend to make a ninny of myself at times.”
She shot Esther a glare when the woman snorted. Esther forced a cough. “I beg your pardon, Miss,” she said.
Lord Blackmoore did not seem to notice. Instead, he stood staring at Alice as if she had grown a third arm. Her hair had caught on one of the rose bushes and fallen loose and she pulled it back from her face. “I must look a fright,” she said.
His eyes were wide as he reached down to hand her the hideous eyeglasses, which had fallen to the ground when she had stumbled. “Not at all,” he said in a choked voice, which caused Alice to freeze in place. What was the matter with the man?
“Miss?” Esther said.
Alice sighed. “Yes?”
Esther leaned in close. “You have dirt on your face,” she whispered.
Alice took several swipes at her cheek. It was one thing to fall into the soil and dirty one’s gown but quite another to get that soil on one’s face. “Oh, well, I believe I should go inside and wash up.” She gave Lord Blackmoore a quick curtsy, only to hide her face and not to show him a respect she did not have for him. “If you will excuse me.” With that, she walked—almost ran—down the path to the house, her heart beating heavily in her chest.
What had gotten into her? No matter how much she fought against it, she found herself drawn to the handsome rogue, and the idea that she could actually have feelings for him, even after such a short time, only made her want to tear her hair out.
Chapter Seven
Johnathan stared after Miss Huntington completely baffled by what had just occurred. They had been walking along as if not a care in the world, and the next thing he knew, she was sitting in a flowerbed, his coat sleeve in her hand. He cared nothing for the sleeve; it could easily be mended. Nor did he care that she had fallen, at least not completely. However, as she stared up at him, her hair loosened from the severe knot at the back of her head leaving a strand of bright red to hang by her face. The hideous eyeglasses had also fallen to the ground, revealing deep green eyes that threatened to take his breath away. Also, her skirts had moved up when she fell, leaving just a bit of ankle showing in the most provocative manner. For the briefest of moments, he saw not the spinster he must convince to marry him so her father would allow him access to what Johnathan needed. No, what he saw for instead was a beautiful woman who had a streak of mischief-maker in her. He was quite certain that she had not truly fallen—he had cared not for whatever it was she had pointed out to him—but he was rather convinced that she had orchestrated the entire event, and quite cleverly so.
“Ah, Blackmoore,” Mr. Huntington called out even as Johnathan continued to stare at the now closed door through which the man’s daughter had entered, “there you are. I hope your time spent with my daughter was productive.”
Johnathan clutched the torn jacket in his hand. “Oh, I would say that today was quite productive, indeed.”
“Good, good. Well, you are now off duty, as it would be, and I would like to invite you in for a drink. If you are available, of course.”
“Yes, I can spare a moment,” Johnathan replied absently, though he still had not turned his gaze from that closed door, which not only separated him from the woman physically, but also somehow represented a separation on an emotional level. Why had she pretended to fall?
This, of course, brought about a wonderment about the evening of the Huntington party and when she trod upon his foot. Had that truly been an ‘accident’ or had she done so intentionally? At the time he would have leaned
more toward the former, though a tiny prickle of suspicion had him wondering about the latter. Now he found himself believing that she had, indeed, intended to stomp on his foot. The question was, why?
***
“I see that you are holding up your end of the bargain,” Mr. Huntington said as he poured two glasses of brandy.
“Had you any doubt?” Johnathan asked as he took the glass from the man.
Mr. Huntington chuckled. “I must admit that I did.” He lowered himself into the chair across from Johnathan, the red flowers clashing with his blue coat. “Alice can be…stubborn, but she will make a good wife. She’s bright, intelligent, and able to handle any situation set before her.”
“I imagine she could,” Johnathan said with a light laugh. “Why has she not married before now?”
Mr. Huntington shot Johnathan a glare. “As I’m sure you have come to realize, our Alice has a mind of her own. I believe her mother allowed her too much leeway with her reading, thus she became overly educated. From my understanding, a woman who is too learned can make most men feel inadequate.” A smile crossed his face. “You, however, have the countenance needed to straighten her out. If anyone can tame her, it will be you.”
Johnathan took a sip of his brandy. The woman indeed needed taming, and he always loved a good challenge. However, did he truly have an interest in doing so? The more he thought on it, the more he realized that he did have an interest. After seeing her in the garden this afternoon, it occurred to him that he would enjoy that conquest more than any other. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”
“That I do,” Mr. Huntington said. He lifted his glass. “Here’s to our business arrangement. To you receiving the fabrics you need, as well as several lucrative London holdings,” —he mentioned the holdings with a bit of annoyance— “and to me ridding myself of a spinster daughter.”
How Johnathan despised the tone in the man’s voice. Once this debacle was over, he would find a way to put him in his place, but for now, he simply smiled and said, “Thank you, sir. I find the prize well worth the game, myself. It should not be long now before we will be planning a wedding.”
The Spinsters Secret Page 6