by Madeline Hunter, Caroline Linden, Megan Frampton, Myretta Robens
“It is not finished. The hem still needs correction.”
Felicity sighed. “This is not a ploy to excuse your going there, is it? I have heard the rumors about you and the duke. You do not need such intrigues for my sake.”
“Nor do I, for my sake. She has done this on her own, not at anyone’s bidding. I will take it late in the afternoon, and fit the hem, and have it sewn by eight o’clock.”
Felicity flushed. “That is not fair to you. I apologize for what I said. Go this afternoon, and be done with it in good time.”
Selina set off with the dress in a hackney at two o’clock. She hoped she would be finished by five. Barrowmore expected her to join him at the theater tonight, and she wanted to return home to dress and primp.
Edeline waited in her dressing room. No pillows lined the floor.
“I need to correct the hem,” Selina explained.
“Then do so, and be quick about it.”
Edeline put on the dress.
“It would help if you stood on that bench,” Selina suggested.
“No. I might fall.”
Selina doubted that. It was a very large, thick and sturdy bench. She went to her knees and bent low to work on the hem.
“You must stop taking advantage of us,” Edeline said from on high.
Selina kept at her work.
“You must stop insinuating yourself into our lives. Barrowmore is too kind to say it, so it is left to me.”
“The duke is able to speak for himself, Lady Giles. Perhaps you should let him.”
“There is talk. About him and you. It is said—It is too embarrassing to have his name linked to yours. Surely you can see how bad that is. How comical, and demeaning for a man of his station.”
“I think he cares less about it than you do. He does not strike me as a man who allows people to take advantage, or to insinuate themselves into his circles. Now, please turn.”
“You will move, not me.” Scornful and ugly, Edeline’s sharp reply slapped down her presumptuous servant.
Selina scooted over on her knees so she could work on another part of the hem.
Thus it went for the next hour. Finally Edeline removed the dress and left the chamber. Selina sat near the window and sewed the hem.
Her chore completed, she rose to leave. No footman waited. She let herself out of the apartment and made her way down the main stairs, spitefully hoping Edeline saw her use of them. With each step, Edeline’s own presumptions ate away at her composure.
No patron had ever spoken to her in that tone before. No one had ever demeaned her in such a direct way. The worst they saw at Madame Follette’s were a few ladies who treated them like clever, talented pets. The intimacy of a dressmaker’s shop created a feminine camaraderie among the women there, no matter what their roles. The womanliness of the activity, the disrobing and sartorial advice, the whispered gossip and confidences—all of that muted the differences in stations, at least somewhat.
Now Edeline had pushed Selina’s nose into the ground, and all but stepped on her head. It was a wonder she had not required that her ring be kissed. If the goal had been to humble a certain dressmaker, the plan had succeeded far better than Selina would have thought possible.
Exhausted and sore, her inner strength crumbled. She was in tears by the time she rounded the final landing and began her way down to the reception hall. Through the wet blur blinding her, she saw a dark figure coming up toward her.
“Selina.” The duke approached more quickly. “What is it?” He embraced her right there on the stairs. “Tell me, darling.”
She shook her head, and tried to extricate herself from his arms. “It is nothing. I am fine.”
He kept his arm around her and sped her up to the library. Once there he dabbed at her tears with his handkerchief. “What are you even doing here?” His tone changed with the last words, as if he knew the answer before the question was out. “Did she call for you?”
Selina took the handkerchief and nodded.
“I told her three days ago she was not to do that again. Ever.”
She had never heard the duke angry before. Or seen him thus. He turned on his heel and headed toward the door.
She hurried after him and caught his arm. “Do not scold her. Please. She is young and confused and—”
“And unkind and thoughtless. I will not have her inflict her failings on you. If she reduced you of all women to tears, she must have been very cruel.”
“I am fine now. See?” She forced a bright smile. “All happy again.”
His anger left him. He pulled her into his arms. “Not so happy, I think. And probably tired, if she had you working for hours at her command. I will bring you home. We will attend the theater another night.”
She nestled in his embrace and allowed herself to go limp against him. “Just being held by you makes me forget all of it. Your mere presence renews me. A kiss would make everything perfect.”
He kissed her. In an instant she forgot about Edeline’s insults and the hard floor beneath her knees. She forgot about everything, even who they were and where they embraced.
Within that sweet passion, she heard nothing except their shared breaths and her own sighs. Until, suddenly, a door closed hard, snapping her alert to their surroundings.
The next sound sent her reeling.
“I’ll be damned,” a male voice said. “Selina Duval. Hell, it took you long enough, Rand.”
Chapter Eleven
Rand instinctively tucked Selina closer to his body. He turned his head toward the familiar voice.
“Giles. Your return is unexpected.”
His brother grinned and walked forward. “I could not miss the entire Season. Besides, my bride needs me.”
Selina gently removed herself from their embrace. She faced Giles with remarkable poise. Rand watched her expression assume the blandest of smiles. “It is good to see you again. I was about to depart. I will do so now, so this family reunion can continue.”
Rand escorted her to the door. He told the footman to fetch a hackney at once for Mrs. Fontaine, and to ensure her safe return to her home.
“What did he mean when he said it had taken you long enough?” she asked before following the footman down.
Damnation. “I will explain that later. I will see you soon.”
She looked at the door impassively, as if she saw through its panels. “It was as if I gazed upon a stranger. How odd.”
Then she walked away.
Giles might indeed have been a stranger, from the way Selina had looked at him and spoken. Rand took satisfaction in that, but it did little to calm the rising rancor he felt for the man in question.
He returned to the library. Near the windows, Giles busied himself with the decanters.
“Have you surprised Edeline yet? She will be overjoyed,” Rand said.
“I will go up soon. I thought to fortify myself with some brandy first.” He turned with glass in hand, raising it.
Good old Giles. As always he wore a bright expression. Lights of humor sparkled in his green eyes. Rand noticed that the debt that had sent him into hiding had not prevented him from having his hair expertly cropped, or stopped him from buying what looked to be a new and expensive waistcoat.
Rand helped himself to brandy, too. “Where have you been?”
“Here and there. Living off my expectations.”
Off more credit, he meant. A new town meant new merchants. Ignorant ones. The only people who could count on payment from Giles were the men he gambled with. Giles paid his gentlemen’s debts first, and let the tailors and coachmen wait forever.
“It is good you are back. Your wife grows weary of my supervision, and I find the role increasingly tedious.” He drank some of the brandy. “You might have asked me to do it. Not just assumed.”
“It is hard to disappear if you announce you are leaving.” Giles threw back his drink and set the glass down. “Selina is looking lovely. Luscious. Maturity favors her.” His s
mile welcomed confidences of the sort Giles himself never hesitated sharing. The sort that involved lies about some women, it turned out. Ruinous lies. Unnecessary ones.
Rand put his glass down, too. “Yes. Well, about that—” He swung his fist, and landed it hard on Giles’s grinning face.
Chapter Twelve
Selina had hoped never to see Giles again. She had even promised Barrowmore to avoid him. She hated that she had come face-to-face with him yesterday, unexpectedly. Even worse to have been in a chamber with both brothers at the same time.
Barrowmore had said he would see her soon. Not too soon, she hoped. She wanted some time to sort through her feelings, which had turned chaotic. She had embarked on an affair with him confident in her choices. Now, suddenly, she felt no confidence at all.
At the shop, she listened to Felicity’s explanation of the patrons they expected this day. She took unusual satisfaction in using her skills as the hours unfolded. Focusing on stitches and fabrics and trims kept her mind off the unease that had settled in her since leaving Manard House yesterday.
While she walked home that evening, bootsteps fell into place beside her. She did not have to look to know who it was. He had not really become a total stranger.
“Please, go away.”
“Is that any way to greet an old beau?”
She marched on. “How did you find me?”
“Edeline. It took me hours to realize all her chattering about her new dressmaker referred to you.” He tipped his head toward her. “You turned out lovely, Selina. The girl was pretty. The woman is impressive.”
“You have a most beautiful wife. You should be with her today, not out on the town.”
“She is beautiful, true. In a rather ordinary way. I had forgotten while I was gone how much she bores me, however. You were a much better conversationalist.”
Selina stopped walking and faced him. She noted an ugly discoloration on his cheek, all blue and pink. “What do you want? Not to reminisce about a very sorry episode in my past life, I think.”
Giles flashed his most charming smile. “I want your help. My brother is showing some temper.” He instinctively touched that bruise on his face. “I need him to be friendlier to me. You can work your wiles and bring him around, I am sure. There are things he and I need to talk about.”
“Financial things? I would be a fool to interfere. Nor would it do any good.” She walked on.
Again those boots fell in alongside her steps. “You would be amazed how much good it would do. And the way I see it, you owe it to me. You only met him because of me, after all. I stood aside for him, so he could have you.”
She halted midstep and pivoted to him. “Excuse me?”
Giles feigned chagrin. “Didn’t he tell you? I was in dun territory that summer, and he came to scold the way he always does, and I could tell he wanted you. So when he demanded I give up something I treasured in return for his help, well—” He shrugged. “It broke my heart, of course, but you landed well. Look at you. Play your hand right, and you will live in luxury forever.”
She could not move. She could barely breathe. Hell, it took you long enough, Rand.
Her voice came out strangled with emotion. “Go away, please. Do not walk beside me. Do not speak to me. Not now. Not ever.” She strode on blindly, praying that Giles did not follow her again.
She was almost home when she came to her senses enough to know she did not want to go there. Barrowmore might visit. He might even be waiting for her. She could not bear to see him. His explanation would only give her more pain. Worse, her heart would want to believe anything he said, if it meant this horrible ache went away.
She turned at a crossroad and made her way back to the shop. She slipped in before Felicity locked the door, and took refuge in the workroom upstairs. She bent her head over one of Edeline’s dresses, sewing its final embellishments with tiny, perfect stitches.
All the while her mind skipped through memories, of things said and assumed, of intimacies shared. She had been a fool to believe she could have a love affair with the duke, or any man, and not eventually know disappointment and heartache. She was not the kind of woman who knew how to hold back part of her heart. She admitted her emotions had become much more entangled than was wise.
She gazed at the bright flame of the candle by which she worked. In a few hours the wick would be spent and the light would go out. She wished love could end so neatly. The flame inside her would never go out while she remained here. It would probably grow until it consumed her, and make her a ridiculous figure—a woman in love with a man who had bought her from his own brother.
Hours later, halfway through the night, she finished the dress. While she wrapped it, soft footsteps outside the chamber alerted her that she had company. Felicity appeared, candle in one hand and a poker in the other, in an undressing gown and shawl, with a big cap covering her crown.
“I thought I heard something down here. I feared a housebreaker. I did not expect to find you, Selina.” She set the poker against the wall. “It is three o’clock. What in the world are you doing here?”
“I wanted to finish this dress. I knew I would not sleep, so I might as well work.”
Felicity examined her with curiosity. “I think you have been crying.”
“I do not think so. Perhaps.”
“You do not remember?”
“My thoughts were on other things. I—I think that I need to leave London for a while. I am wracked with guilt, because I know how the shop can ill afford to lose one of us now, but—” She bit her lip, and turned her attention to fussing with the dress’s wrapping.
Felicity sat in a chair and beckoned Selina to sit as well. “All is not well between you and the duke, I gather.”
Selina shook her head. “I have been worse than a schoolgirl, in the lies I told myself. I called it a love affair. Not for me the expensive gifts and support that made a woman a whore. Only…” She swallowed hard, then forced herself to go on. “I learned today that at its core, this has been a most commercial liaison.”
“If you are shocked and aggrieved to learn this, perhaps you are also wrong. Wouldn’t your heart know the truth?”
“Right now my heart knows nothing with security. Nor will it if I see him. My heart, you see, has been lost, and wants to believe anything that allows it to continue loving a man I never should have encouraged.” Her throat burned worse with each word. Tears stung her eyes. Felicity reached to embrace her, and she broke down and cried on Felicity’s shoulder.
The release brought some calm. Felicity patted her back the way a mother might. “If you must leave, then do so. We will manage. Please say you’ll return, however. Our little family here will be the poorer without you.”
“I promise I will return. In a month at the outside. I should know my own mind by then, I hope. Nor would I ever leave you short of help when the coronation draws near. I know how important it is. I would not leave at all if I believed I would have the strength to see him. Please believe that.”
“I know you would not. Now, come above and sleep. I won’t have you on the streets at this hour. In the morning you can make your plans.”
Four days after his brother’s return, Rand mounted the steps of Manard House, aiming for his brother’s chambers. At his command, word had come down as soon as Giles was dressed.
He found Giles in his dressing room. It was much like Edeline’s. The two of them had taken ownership of a vast apartment up here. Giles sprawled on a divan, reading his mail. He lay comfortably on the cushions, with his boots propped on a stack of silk pillows. They were much like the ones in Edeline’s chambers. The ones too good for Mrs. Fontaine to use.
“Rand. You are up and about early.”
“I wanted to be sure to see you this morning.”
Giles grinned up at him. “Well, here I am. Have you rethought that idea I proposed yesterday?”
The idea had been for Rand to purchase a property that was part of Giles’s inheritan
ce from their mother. Giles must be very desperate if he was willing to trade regular income for one, quick influx of money.
“I have not. You will regret that as soon as it is done, and blame me forever. I have come to speak with you about Selina.”
“Ah. How is that going?”
Rand wanted to thrash him then and there. “She has thrown me over, I think.”
“You think? Rude of her not to tell a duke when she tires of him.”
“She has not been at her home, nor at her place of employment, so I have not seen her. She seems to have disappeared. Do you know to where?”
Giles swung his boots off the divan and sat. He made much of pondering the problem. “I cannot even imagine where.”
“Do you know why?”
His tone must have communicated how his anger strained against its leash, because Giles looked very serious all of a sudden.
“None at all,” Giles muttered.
“Have you seen her since the day you walked into the library and found her in my arms? Think carefully before you answer, Giles. Should I ever learn that you lied to me today, I will leave you to the bailiffs for good.”
Giles sighed and frowned. He stood and paced. Finally he turned. “I did see her, the next day. I just stumbled upon her walking on the street and—”
“One more lie and you are dead to me.”
Giles gritted his teeth. “I learned she now worked at that shop, and I arranged to stumble upon her. Are you happy now?”
“For what purpose?”
Giles peered at him, confused. Then his expression cleared. “Oh. Ohhh. No, no. It was not what you think. I did not—I would not be so stupid as to try and revive my friendship with her, what with you and she— It was not that. I swear it.”
The relief that broke was so profound it stunned him. “Then what was it instead?”
“I, uh—I wanted her to intercede with you on my behalf. You were very angry that day, and have been cold and distant since, so I have hesitated even talking to you about my situation.”
“She refused you?”