A Lord for the Wallflower Widow

by Ann Lethbridge

‘The man was an idiot.’

  ‘I thought so, too,’ she said with a wry little laugh.

  He let go a sigh of relief. Brave to a fault. He gave her a squeeze. ‘That’s my girl.’ His? He winced. Those sorts of statements would get him into more trouble than he already was. Yet he could not help offering comfort. ‘May I say how honoured I am that you chose me to be your first lover.’

  A little silence met his words and then came a beautiful smile. His heart gave an odd little lurch. Oh, yes. He was really in trouble. ‘Um...’ she said.

  He clenched his jaw, waiting for the admonition he so rightly deserved. ‘What is it, Carrie?’ He sounded terse. What was it about her that drove his easy charm into hiding? He turned to face her. ‘Was there something I can do for you?’ Something else.

  ‘I was wondering if you would like to dine with me tomorrow evening? Here.’

  Oh. Instead of a bear-garden jaw she was inviting him to dine. Desire flooded his body at the thought of being alone with her again.

  Now he had slept with her as she’d wanted, he really ought to say farewell and get back to his life, because since he’d become involved with Carrie and her business he had not been to one ball to find someone to replace Elizabeth or escorted one lady on a shopping expedition. He hadn’t even spent much time at the tables either. His income was suffering badly and that meant Laura would also suffer.

  He really should call a halt to this right now. ‘Yes. I would like that very much.’ The words were out before he could think them through. But then, she had just given him the most amazing gift of his life, one he would likely never receive again. Not to mention he enjoyed her company.

  The glorious smile he adored broke out again. ‘I shall look forward to it.’

  And dammit, so would he.

  He reached for his waistcoat in the heap of clothes by the bed, grabbed his watch and peered at the time. ‘Oh, Lord.’

  ‘What is it?’ she asked sitting up, the sheets pulled tight across her mouthwatering breasts.

  He forced his gaze away. That was not the direction his thoughts needed to go, and besides, since this was her very first time, she would likely be sore for a few days so he should keep that in mind when he came for dinner the next day.

  ‘I promised to meet someone and I am already late.’ He slid out of bed and pulled on his clothes. He glanced over at her, watching him and wanted to slide right back under the sheets. Grimly he forced himself to continue dressing. He glanced her way and saw her watching him, her gaze oddly pained.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked, despite knowing he shouldn’t.

  ‘Are you going gaming?’

  The question was laced with disapproval and it hurt when usually he didn’t care what people thought, but he wasn’t going to lie like some naughty boy caught teasing the family pet. Gaming was how he made his living. ‘I am.’ He buttoned his waistcoat and turned to face her.

  ‘Oh.’ There was a world of dismay in her voice.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  She flinched at his tone and he felt like some sort of ogre.

  What the devil? ‘What is it, Carrie?’ He did not mean to sound impatient, but really? He didn’t answer to her any more than he answered to his father. Why was it people were always wanting to control his life when they really knew nothing about him?

  She shook her head, her hair moving like a waterfall about her creamy shoulders. ‘I don’t see why it is enjoyable for gentlemen to risk everything on the toss of a dice or...something equally foolish.’ Sadness reverberated in her voice.

  His jaw dropped. What? Did she think he routinely fleeced green boys of their fortune or ruined men down on their luck? Looking at him as if he was some sort of Captain Sharp, no less.

  He never cared what people thought of him or said of him. So why would he care now? A chill entered his veins. He picked up his hat and gloves.

  ‘It is how I make my living, madam. I bid you goodnight.’

  * * *

  The next evening, while tidying up from yet another extraordinarily busy day, Carrie caught a strange look from her assistant. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, ma’am, but...well, you are humming. You didn’t do that when I first came here and I wondered what has made you so happy.’

  Humming? Oh, goodness. Heat crept up her face. ‘I suppose I am happy because the shop is doing so well.’ Certainly not because she was expecting Lord Avery later this evening. She had half-expected him to cry off on their dinner after they had parted on such bad terms, but since she had not received a note cancelling their engagement, she could only assume he would arrive as promised. And, yes, that was making her happy. She shouldn’t have said anything about his gambling. Gentlemen gambled. It was a fact of life. And they did not like to be criticised. Certainly, Carrie Greystoke was not going to change those facts of life.

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ The girl sounded none too convinced.

  Surely she could not have an inkling that Carrie was entertaining a gentleman in her rooms later that evening. No, it wasn’t possible. She frowned. ‘Why would I not be pleased that the shop is doing well?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean it that way, ma’am. It is just that you work so hard and it seems to get busier every day. If this keeps up, we won’t have enough stock to satisfy our customers. I expected you to be worried.’

  It was true, there were a great many gaps on the shelves. ‘I will bring more stock back with me when I return from Kent on Monday.’

  A note she had received from Marguerite indicated that they had managed to gain the services of several women in the village, but that until they were fully trained, she and Petra were working long hours to meet the demand. Hopefully they would have enough stock on hand for the following week at least. And in a few more weeks it would be the height of summer and the ton would be departing the city for cooler climes and they would have enough of a hiatus to prepare for the Little Season. They would also need new autumn designs if they were to maintain the interest of their customers. After all, while many of the ladies had come to take a look at the shopkeeper who had caught Lord Avery’s eye, they had fallen in love with the hats. And it was the hats, and the naughty nightwear, that would keep them coming back.

  The girl finished tidying the drawers and glanced around. ‘I think that is everything.’

  ‘It is indeed. Off you go home and I will see you first thing in the morning.’

  The girl smiled. ‘Yes, Mrs Greystoke. If there is anything else I can do to help, please let me know. I love working here. It is so much nicer than being a housemaid. It means I can go home and help my mum with the little ones while she gets dinner, but if you needs me to stay late or to do anything at all, I will be happy to help out.’

  ‘Thank you. I will be sure to let you know.’ But please right now...just go. ‘My goodness, is that the time? You don’t want to be late, or your mother will worry.’

  The girl shrugged into her coat and with a cheery wave was gone. Carrie locked the door behind her and leaned against it in relief. At last. Now she could bathe and get ready for Avery. This must be their last night together. Since the shop was doing so well, it would not be fair to her sisters-in-law to continue with their arrangement when it was no longer needed. He’d helped her get started and that should be an end to it.

  While she had honestly not expected him to make love to her once he’d explained he did not do that sort of thing for money, the fact that he had, made her want to make this evening as special for him as he had made this time with him special for her.

  But first she needed to get ready.

  Excitement rippled through her belly. She had decided on a very wicked plan. She hugged her arms around her waist, but did she dare follow through on it?

  Yes, she had to do this. Avery had taught her she was not a complete failure as a woman. He had called her lovely. He h
ad made her feel utterly feminine. A feeling she would treasure for the rest of her life. And this was one thing she could do for him and bring him some measure of pleasure.

  * * *

  On his way to visit Carrie, Avery dropped in at Laura’s lodgings. Having let himself in as usual, he stopped short at the sight of his older brother seated in the armchair by the fire. He almost turned tail, but that would be cowardly.

  ‘Bart,’ he said warily. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Laura put her needlework aside and rushed forward to greet him. ‘Now, now, Avery. No need to sound so unfriendly.’ She gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Bart came to see how we did and to report on Father’s health.

  Avery set his hat on the table and shook hands with his older brother. ‘Good of you, Bart. How is the old fellow?’ He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but clearly had not succeeded when his brother gave him a narrow-eyed stare, then shrugged. Only Avery could solve the bad blood between him and his father.

  And to be fair on his brother, the Duke kept his heir so short of funds there was little he could do to help either of his siblings. The best he could do for Avery was loan him his carriages on the odd occasion. And for his sister? Laura never said anything, but no doubt he did what he could. Unfortunately, most of the care for Laura fell on Avery’s shoulders. Or it would until her husband was able to earn a decent income.

  Bart glanced at Laura and back to Avery. He heaved a sigh. ‘Sometimes he is the way he always was and sometimes I am amazed he is still with us he is so fragile. Quite honestly, I don’t see how he keeps going. Strength of will, I suppose.’

  Avery’s stomach dipped. The longer time went on the less likely he would ever be reconciled with the Duke. And, despite everything, that did not sit well in his gut. ‘I am sorry you have to bear the brunt of it.’

  His brother looked grim. ‘It is truly pitiful to see.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Which brings me to the reason I called here today.’ Again, a look passed between him and Laura.

  What the hell? He glared at them both. ‘What are you two plotting?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Laura said, sounding anxious. ‘It is just that...’

  ‘Father is extremely agitated about the female you now appear to be...courting.’

  Avery froze. ‘I am not courting anyone.’

  ‘Damn it, Avery—’ His brother’s cheeks coloured. ‘I beg your pardon, Laura, but devil take it, Avery, a widowed shopkeeper?’

  ‘She is a business associate,’ Avery snapped. ‘Nothing more.’

  ‘Well, whatever she is, Father’s not pleased you are still seeing her.’ His mouth tightened. ‘He nigh on had an apoplexy thinking you’d be trapped in marriage to such a one when you can have your pick of half the nobility in England.’

  ‘I have no intention of marrying anyone and so you may tell our father.’

  His brother snorted. ‘Driving in Hyde Park? Taking her to the theatre. Smelling of April and May is how he has heard it.’

  Laura frowned. ‘Avery, surely you are not toying with the lady’s affections? I told you before that Harriet’s godmother saw you in Hyde Park, too, but apparently she reported to Harriet that she had never seen a lady so much in love.’

  Avery’s jaw dropped. In love? ‘Nonsense. We are simply good friends.’

  ‘I’ll wager you are,’ his brother said morosely.

  Avery shot him a grin, because he knew it would annoy his brother. ‘You are just jealous.’

  ‘Avery—’ his brother growled.

  ‘But what of the lady’s reputation?’ Laura asked. ‘You know how people talk.’

  After running off with a man society considered beneath her, Laura had suffered her share of gossip.

  ‘She doesn’t care about such things. She is a milliner.’ Avery mentally crossed his fingers that no one had discovered her relationship to Westram. If that ever came to his father’s ears he might be singing a different tune about her suitability as a bride. Maybe it was just as well their association was due to end shortly. The thought scoured a hole in his gut. He forced himself to ignore it. ‘I take a commission on sales resulting from my recommendations to her shop. That is all there is to it.’ On a financial level, anyway.

  Laura frowned. ‘That might be all it is to you, but are you sure she feels the same way?’

  Now they brought it to his attention, he wasn’t at all sure, given her actions. He inhaled a deep breath. ‘Whatever the case, I am not marrying her or anyone else. Besides, why is Father so concerned about me? You are the heir, Bart. It is your duty to marry and provide the next heir. I suggest you get on with it post haste.’

  His brother’s face hardened. ‘I am doing my duty. As you well know, I am betrothed.’

  ‘You’ve been betrothed for nigh on five years. Why haven’t you married the girl?’

  ‘That is why, you idiot. She’s barely out of the schoolroom.’

  Avery winced. Their father had chosen a girl from an excellent family for his brother. Unfortunately, she’d been fourteen to his brother’s twenty-five at the time. Her family had signed the settlements, but had insisted the wedding not take place until after she’d had her come out. Thank God.

  For Laura, the Duke had chosen a man in his fifties. Of the three of them, the woman chosen for Avery had seemed on the surface the most acceptable in terms of age. Except that Avery had been in love with someone else, Alexandra. Or had thought so anyway. All the young bucks new on the town had been in love with Lady Alexandra Wellford. She’d been the most beautiful of all the debutantes that year, although her family’s pockets were largely to let.

  Avery had thought she loved him in return, until his father bought her and her family off. When Avery had discovered what the Duke had done, they had had the most awful row. It was then that he’d told his father he was never going to marry and they hadn’t seen each other from that day to this.

  ‘I’m sorry. I forgot she was so young. How much longer do you have to wait?’

  ‘Until next year.’

  ‘I hope she is worth it. I really do.’

  His brother’s expression became blank. ‘I will do my duty.’

  Avery frowned. ‘Surely—’

  ‘I am not going to discuss my intended with you, Avery. I merely came to ask Laura if she knew anything of this shopkeeper before I approached you about it.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about me, I can assure you.’

  ‘You know, if you would just settle down with someone reasonable, Father would reinstate your allowance. He has mellowed considerably over the past few years.’ Bart looked so damned hopeful, Avery almost weakened. But he knew his father. It would never be enough. He’d want to rule his life completely. First the wedding, then he’d be relegated to managing one of the family estates and answering to his father for every aspect of his life. He’d tried to appease his father all through his boyhood until he’d almost lost sight of himself as a person. He was not going to subjugate himself again.

  ‘Thank you, but, no.’ He pulled his purse from his pocket and emptied the contents on to the table. ‘Laura, this should keep you going for a few days. I will bring more in a week or so.’

  Bart curled his lip. ‘I suppose that is payment from your widow for services rendered?’

  ‘And?’ Avery said icily.

  His brother grimaced.

  Avery punched him lightly on the shoulder. ‘What a stuffed shirt you are becoming. It is actually my ill-gotten gains from the tables.’

  ‘Hardly any better.’

  Laura looked upset. ‘Please, both of you, do not fight. You are the only family I have left. I hate to see you so at odds.’

  Inwardly Avery winced. He hated it, too, but he wasn’t going to buckle to his brother’s pressure. ‘We would not be at odds if he didn’t think he had the right to tell me what to do.’


  ‘I am trying to save you from yourself, Brother. And if you think gaming is a good way to make a living, it is not. Sooner or later it will lead you into trouble.’

  Why did everyone want to run his life? He bowed. ‘Please excuse me, Laura, I cannot stay. I have another engagement.’ He stalked out.

  He wasn’t feeling exactly good about things. He hadn’t lied to his brother, but he hadn’t been truthful either. Damn it, the man was almost as bad as their father. He didn’t deserve to be told the truth about Carrie.

  Outside in the street, Avery let go a breath. It wasn’t true. His brother was a good man. Too good.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carrie glanced at her clock for about the fifth time and ran her hands down the front of her gown. Even with the addition of the negligee it was so sheer... What if he took one look at her trying to be seductive and laughed? Oh, this was such a stupid idea.

  She ran to the clothes press. She still had a few minutes before he was due to arrive. The gown she had worn to the theatre would be better than this, surely?

  A creak behind her. She jerked around. Too late. He was here and looking so handsome and well dressed. She swallowed. She really should have worn something more appropriate.

  His eyes widened as they ran down her length. The smile on his face broadened. ‘My word, you look good enough to eat. Was this what you meant by dinner?’

  Her nervousness fled. She smiled back, though she knew from the heat in her cheeks she was also blushing. ‘No. I promise I do intend to feed you.’

  He closed the door behind you. ‘You know, that doorman let me in without a word. I am sorry if I surprised you.’

  She let out a breathless laugh. ‘I told him to send you straight back here.’

  A brow tilted up. He glanced at the evening gown she had pulled from the clothes chest, still gripped in nervous fingers. ‘Am I too early? Shall I come back? Though I must say what you are wearing is absolutely enchanting. No wonder the ladies of the ton can’t get enough of them.’

  He knew just the right thing to say to set her at ease. She dropped the gown back into the chest and closed the lid. ‘I was putting it away.’ As lies went, it was fairly white. It certainly wasn’t going to do anyone any harm and it was certainly better than admitting she had started to panic. She had wanted to wear this outrageous robe for him. After all, she’d bought it and would certainly wear it again.