Page 35 of The Duke's Jilted Bride

Until he could make sense of them himself.

CHAPTER 12

“Did you see the note from Lady Bingham, Your Grace?” Agnes asked, adjusting Selina’s bonnet as the carriage rolled through London’s busy streets.

“Yes, this morning. Such wonderful news about little Lily’s arrival,” Selina replied, smoothing her gloves. “Isabella must be overjoyed to have a daughter after her son.”

Agnes smiled, tucking a stray pin into Selina’s golden hair. “A lovely name, Lily, isn’t it, Your Grace? Delicate but strong.”

“Like Isabella herself.” Selina glanced out the window as the carriage slowed. “Ah, we’ve arrived.”

Bond Street bustled with activity, with carriages lining the fashionable shopping district and elegantly dressed ladies moving from shop to shop.

Selina stepped down with the footman’s help, Agnes following close behind.

“Which shop shall we try first, Your Grace?” Agnes asked, her eyes wide at the array of establishments.

“Madame Laurent’s first, I think. Her baby linens are renowned for their quality.”

The shop bell tinkled as they entered the draper’s establishment. The scent of fresh fabric and lavender sachets filled the air. A plump woman with graying hair hurried forward, her face lighting with recognition.

“Your Grace! What an honor to welcome you to my humble shop.”

“Thank you, Madame Laurent. I need a gift for a friend who has just welcomed a baby girl.”

The shopkeeper clasped her hands. “How fortuitous! I’ve just received the loveliest shipment of infant gowns from France. The embroidery is exquisite.”

Selina followed Madame Laurent to a table where several tiny garments lay displayed. The delicate white gowns, with their intricate stitching and ribbon trim, were indeed beautiful.

“This one, I think,” Selina said, touching a gown adorned with tiny roses. “And perhaps that blanket with the matching embroidery.”

“An excellent choice, Your Grace.” Madame Laurent carefully wrapped the items in tissue paper. “May I show you our new selection of shawls as well? Perfect for a new mother.”

While Agnes admired some ribbons nearby, Selina examined the selection of shawls. Her fingers lingered on a soft cashmere in pale blue.

“This will suit Isabella perfectly,” she decided. “She always favors blue.”

As Madame Laurent wrapped the gifts, Selina found her gaze drawn to a display of baby caps, each one small enough to fit in her palm. Without meaning to, she picked one up, marveling at its size and softness.

“Would you like to include one of those as well, Your Grace?” Madame Laurent asked.

Selina hesitated, a sudden wistfulness washing over her.

Would she ever hold her own child? Feel the weight of an infant in her arms, watch tiny fingers grasp at the world?

With her first husband, motherhood had been an impossibility. And now, with Rowan keeping his distance…

“No, thank you,” she said, setting the cap down. “The gown, blanket, and shawl will be sufficient.”

“Very good, Your Grace. Shall I have these delivered?”

“Yes, please. To the Bingham country home in Surrey.” Selina provided the address and paid for her purchases.

As they prepared to leave, Madame Laurent smiled. “I hope we might see you again soon, Your Grace. Perhaps for items of a more… personal nature someday.”

The woman’s meaning was clear, and Selina felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Perhaps. Good day, Madame Laurent.”

Outside, the spring sunshine seemed overly bright after the shop’s dimness. Agnes adjusted her shawl as they stepped onto the street.

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