Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Madeline Martin

  ‘I am so sorry, Susanna.’ Rachael’s voice rang out and she couldn’t have stopped it if she’d wanted to. ‘So sorry. I didn’t mean to bump your arm.’ Then she almost choked when she saw the Duchess’s glare. ‘Please forgive me.’

  She moved Susanna aside, attempting to take the Duchess’s arm, but the woman jerked it aside, sloshing her own drink and adding to the spill on her cleavage.

  ‘Abomination. That’s what this is. An abomination.’

  For some reason, Rachael wanted to giggle when she saw the footman standing, open-mouthed, and his grip locked on his own tray. ‘Handkerchiefs, please,’ she instructed him. ‘And will someone assist Her Grace to the ladies’ retiring room?’

  Rachael took Susanna, her voice strong enough to carry to all the guests. ‘I don’t know how I could have been so clumsy, Susanna. Will you ever forgive me?’

  ‘I will never forgive either of you,’ the Duchess muttered. ‘This dress is ruined.’

  ‘I will direct that the bodice of your dress is replaced by the best seamstress in London. And, everyone...’ she briefly viewed the others ‘...please check that all the lamps are strongly secured. We must all be thankful I have learned not to stand near them.’

  A few muffled laughs answered her statement.

  Rachael waved to the musicians. ‘Could you please start the music again? And, everyone, please forget you ever saw this.’

  ‘Awk!’ the Duchess called from just beyond the room. ‘I will demand that everyone remembers this.’

  Rachael shrugged, then led Susanna to a man at the side. ‘Are you hoping for a partner in the dance?’ she asked him. He bowed to Susanna and led her to the row of dancers, and the music commenced.

  Rachael blew a strand of her hair to the side of her face and followed after the Duchess.

  ‘I will never forget this,’ the lady of the house said, close behind Rachael. ‘We all would have liked to have done that to the Duchess at some time or another. And I’ll be sure to invite you the next time I plan something. You do tend to liven things up. Please stay. I’ll attempt to calm the Duchess.’

  An older man approached Rachael. ‘May I have the next dance? I want to be near you to see what happens next.’

  ‘Nothing, I hope,’ Rachael said.

  ‘Well, if it does, I want you standing by my brother. He’s infuriating with his self-importance. It would be good to have him adjusted down a notch and you’re the woman who could do it.’

  * * *

  When her father stopped to take her mother’s arm, she knew he wanted to leave and she joined them.

  Before they stepped into the carriage, she removed the feather in her mother’s turban so it wouldn’t be broken on the roof and gave the plume to her mother.

  ‘Thank you, dear.’ Her mother checked that the turban remained the same. ‘I was watching. I know you didn’t tap Susanna’s arm. I’m proud of you.’

  ‘I didn’t choose to do that. I just had to.’

  ‘Which makes it all the better,’ her mother said. ‘You’re a woman who does what she has to. What she believes she has to do. And, really, that’s what makes the difference.’

  ‘It’s a shame your grandfather didn’t live long enough to know you. He’d be so proud,’ her father added.

  The words fluttered inside Rachael, adding a balm to an awkward evening.

  ‘I didn’t observe the Viscount in attendance...which surprised me,’ her mother said. ‘Was he expected?’

  ‘He went to the country with his father and Payton to retrieve some horses. He said it was long overdue. He’s returned, but I expect he was busy with his father.’

  ‘Of course. Family is important.’ She straightened the ostrich feather and put it flat across her lap. ‘I can only thank him for what he has done for us... For you... You’re not the same Rachael and I’m pleased that you seem so much more comfortable now than you did with Mr Tenney. Take care, though.’

  ‘Father, might I take the carriage after we arrive home?’

  She heard the sputters and even in the darkness she could see him puffing up into an explosive answer.

  Her mother touched his hand. ‘Your father doesn’t think it’s a good idea. And, Dear One, that’s not what I meant by taking care.’

  ‘Before he left, Devlin mentioned he planned to propose when he returned and I would like to know if he was serious. I’ve been thinking about my answer.’

  Her mother sputtered this time. ‘D-Dear, you didn’t pursue the question at the time. You had to think about it?’

  ‘Are you daft?’ her father shouted.

  Immediately her mother pulled down the shades in the carriage, although Rachael didn’t grasp how that would keep the discussion more private. The coachman had surely heard the shout and the horses had even been aware of discord as they’d picked up speed.

  She patted the side of the carriage seat. She seemed to be testing people’s vocal range more than usual.

  ‘I could not marry him because he pitied me. Or because he needed an heir. He just said that we should get married and I could not risk another meaningless proposal.’

  ‘Yes. You could.’ Her father’s voice hadn’t lowered. His arms crossed. ‘She gets these ideas from you.’ He spoke to her mother.

  ‘I was betrothed for a long time to Ambrose Tenney and I do not want history to repeat itself. I don’t.’

  ‘You could have suggested the Viscount obtain a Special Licence. You are too old to be waiting.’

  ‘Father. I am past waiting. I’m not waiting on anyone now. And I don’t want to be a pitied victim.’

  ‘Dear.’ Her mother reached out, one hand resting on Rachael’s and one on her husband’s. ‘You are not a victim to anyone. You never were. Not even to Tenney. If you remember, when he courted you, you were completely happy to keep him at a distance and wait. A letter sufficed and you were content with that.’

  Her mother sat deeper in the seat and crossed her arms. ‘You never even saw the other men who tried to catch your attention in the meantime. But almost immediately, when you formed a friendship with Devlin, you were meeting privately.’

  ‘They’re meeting privately?’ her father shouted again.

  ‘Don’t scare the horses and the people in the houses we’re passing by don’t need to be aware of our conversation,’ her mother spoke gently.

  ‘The Viscount is charming. And I do care for him. Apart from my family, he is the best friend I’ve ever had.’

  ‘And you, my dear daughter, are lying to yourself if you think you’re easily led,’ her mother said. ‘I have no qualms at all if you are to remain unwed. I am all for it if it is what you wish. But do not lie to yourself. You are no one’s victim.’

  Her father snorted again and repeated her mother’s words. ‘She’s no one’s victim.’

  ‘What if I were to marry Devlin and he were to change affections?’

  Her father grumbled, ‘I would assume you wouldn’t even ask for his carriage, but you would just take it and do as you wished. As you have with my London shop.’

  She didn’t speak.

  ‘I saw the purchases,’ he continued. ‘Grimsley’s suggestions didn’t all come from him. He would never have had the courage to do that alone.’

  ‘The former apprentice is so excited in the changes that are planned for the shop. He’s offered his own suggestions that he would like us to try. We need to expand.’

  ‘How can we expand?’

  ‘We have the inventory in storage to be melted and reshaped. Grimsley’s found another shop location and, if we take it, the agreement is that the rent on the new shop will be almost nothing for the first year. We’re to take in an older journeyman at the new site and Abernathy will work closely with him. So, for one year, it is almost no risk at all, only profit, and we will add to the merchandise with items that w
e have created from old ones we already have. Nothing extravagant. You make the future profits when you create or buy the merchandise, not only when you sell.’

  Her father spoke to her mother. ‘Do you think the Viscount had any idea what he was taking on when he asked our timid little daughter for her hand in marriage?’

  Before her mother could answer, Rachael inserted, ‘He did not ask. He spoke of it as a given. As if it were already decided.’

  ‘Blast.’ Her father gave a slap to his forehead and gaped at his wife. ‘You always said she would not listen if you told her what to do, but if you asked, she would break her fingers in helping.’

  ‘Just like her father.’

  Both parents’ heads nodded in unison.

  ‘Can I borrow the carriage?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ her father said. ‘I’ve never had much say in your life. But I do have control over the carriage driver’s employment and you would not be able to get a hackney tonight. It would not hurt you to spend a night thinking about your strength and how you have made decisions these past years.’

  ‘Do you think Devlin suggested marriage because he sees you as less than you are?’ her mother asked. ‘Or because he wants a strong woman at his side?’

  Her mother patted Rachael’s knee. ‘And even if he cannot put it into words, that’s what he wants. That is what he tried to create in you when he encouraged you to go to the dances and become a part of his world. Our actions are truer than our words.’

  Thunder rolled in the distance, muted by the walls of the carriage and the sounds of the horses’ hooves.

  ‘Wait until later in the morning to take the carriage,’ her father said, ‘since you are not dashing off to meet a future husband. I’ve already arranged for Grimsley to be collected and give me the fortnight’s accounting of the shop. I want to review the plans the two of you have had. And I want to make sure there are no canes with swords in them ordered. I cannot believe you ordered so many of those headache powder rings. It takes courage to order such things.’

  ‘Does it really?’ her mother asked, her words for him, but her face towards Rachael. ‘I would think there was little courage involved. In business, not all ventures succeed. Not all marriages. Even though Devlin’s parents aren’t a perfect couple, each has been rewarded from it. Vows are symbolic and the foundation of a marriage. They are glue, not sweetened fluff.’

  ‘I know full well it is not a meringue.’

  ‘Don’t expect perfection. Marriage is a skill some people have—like business talents.’

  ‘That is not romantic.’

  ‘Perhaps not. Your father’s and my marriage is a habit of courtesy and love that we fell into and with honesty and strength almost any two caring people can do it. Unfortunately, you won’t know if the strength is there beforehand. No one does. Just like profits in a shop.’

  Her mother put her hand to her chin. ‘I would say it is a lot like starting a business with a partner and you can only prepare as much as possible beforehand and hope that you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘You make it sound like too much of a risk for a sensible person.’

  ‘Everything worth having is a risk.’ Her mother patted Rachael’s knee again. ‘Even children. When the Countess and I met again after not seeing each other for all those years, I told her how long you’d been betrothed and that Tenney couldn’t seem to pick one day out of three hundred and sixty-five. And she told me she had three sons, none of whom seemed to be aware that all the young women she’d been inviting to events might be more than just dance partners.’

  ‘You were both matchmaking?’ Rachael asked, surprised.

  ‘Attempting. We left the actual decision up to the two of you. But, never doubt that it gets your ire up if someone tells you what to do. I’ve asked you to do things your whole life and so has your father. Other people are not so well trained as we are.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  That morning, Grimsley came to give her father the accounts for the business and her maid summoned her. Rachael was pacing the floor. She’d been ready to leave shortly after she’d woken and she’d woken early.

  ‘Your father asked if you might attend the meeting with Mr Grimsley.’ The maid rushed in, her cheeriness flooding the room.

  Rachael straightened her skirt. She might have trained her parents well, but they had done the same with her, no matter what her mother said. She walked downstairs and listened to the men talk and she gave her opinions forthrightly.

  * * *

  After the meeting had concluded, Rachael rode with Grimsley and her mother as he was returned to the shop.

  Instead of going to Devlin immediately, she went inside to inspect Grimsley’s latest acquisitions as she’d agreed earlier that morning when speaking with her father.

  ‘We’ve another arrival from Mr Abernathy.’

  ‘I must see it,’ she said. Abernathy was her favourite craftsman. Metal was his canvas and the jewels were his oils.

  ‘Six rings this time,’ Grimsley said. ‘He purchased the rubies at a small price and is happy that you said we would buy all he can provide if he passes the bargain on to us, and that he can make them as he pleases. And he was able to make a gimmel ring for you as you asked. With tiny rubies.’

  He secured the bag, held it out and she picked out the treasures one by one until she saw the rubies. She pulled it into the light. She didn’t know for sure what she would do with it when she requested it, but now she was certain.

  ‘I believe I will keep this one.’

  Grimsley’s grin sparkled many times bigger than the small swirl of rubies. ‘Excellent choice.’

  She clasped the bands so that they pressed against her skin.

  ‘Do you think we can do it? Make the shop a success?’ she asked.

  ‘For the first time in five years, I am anticipating the future. Mr Abernathy and I talked at length when he dropped off the jewels. We both have a new enthusiasm for our work. And he will ascertain that Miss Rachael gets his best designs.’

  They both gave a nod before she walked into the dreary day, but the air had a crispness that pleased her more than if the sun had shone brightly.

  She hurried to the carriage, her mother beside her.

  Inside, she picked at the lace on the sleeve on her oldest, most favourite dress.

  ‘Have a maid stitch that in place for you,’ her mother said.

  ‘This one is always being mended.’

  ‘Perhaps you should get a new one.’

  ‘I don’t mind. This suits me.’

  Rachael straightened the skirt, examining the faded flowers on the fabric. This was not the glorious gown she might wear to a soirée, cloaked in jewels from the shop.

  This was the dress for home. For bookwork. Not the dancing dress—the one with the poufs of cloth and the best cloak.

  She could be comfortable in both. Wearing the jewellery did not change who she was. Nor did she wear it to elevate herself. It was beauty and, as Devlin had pointed out about songbirds singing as they should, the same was true for everything. No one would ask flowers to please stop blooming as their petals were much too graceful for a sad day.

  She could wear the flowing strands of armour, the baubles on her wrist as gauntlets and the rings as shields while she danced into the night and she could put everything neatly on the shelf when she returned home.

  It wasn’t about how she appeared to others, it was about who she was when she thought of herself and it was no disservice to imagine herself as a strong person, particularly as she had been so afraid at the first soirées.

  No one had been her friend and she’d often been seen as an outsider, but it didn’t matter. It only mattered how she saw herself and that she continually took steps to increase her internal promise of retaining the vision of who she wanted to be.

  Mr Grimsley had
told her that it was impossible to gauge what would sell and what wouldn’t. Originally, he’d not felt it right to risk the success without her father’s agreement. One had to take chances and her father had become unwilling to take those leaps of faith. As his failures had dwindled, so had his successes.

  Devlin was worth the risk of failure and the risk of success.

  She thought of the last few days.

  He was more important to her than the jewellery shop. He made her heart glow as bright as rubies. As sparkling as a betrothal ring shared by lovers.

  She didn’t want to live without him and she didn’t want to live apart from him if she had a choice in the matter.

  * * *

  Immediately upon opening the door, the butler’s eyes darted around, searching for a chaperon, then her mother stepped into view behind her.

  ‘We’re here to speak with the Countess.’

  ‘I will see if she is in.’

  With the briefest amount of time, the butler returned and led her to the Countess’s sitting room.

  * * *

  After tea, Devlin appeared in the hallway, but didn’t move to join them. Giving a quick greeting, bow included, he waited, perfection on view, filling the doorway, the light from the window seeming to reflect from his smile and showcase the trim length of his legs.

  He’d been created for light, laughter and her eyes.

  ‘I hate to disappoint you, but she arrived to visit me,’ the Countess said, rising. ‘Her mother wished me to have a handkerchief she’d embroidered.’

  ‘Perhaps Rachael would like to take a stroll in the garden,’ he suggested.

  The Countess stopped in front of her son. ‘I suspect she might.’ She brushed him aside. ‘Now I want to show Mrs Albright some of my stitchery and it is a shame I didn’t bring a needle with me as you would move from the doorway much more quickly if I had.’ She made a jabbing motion with her hand and he took one step aside.

  It surprised Rachael to see the Countess jesting with her son and his mother gave him a sideways hug when she walked by him.