Page 28 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
Madam Bisset returned, piles of lace and satin and velvet and fur in her arms, topped with a precariously balanced pincushion. She nodded in approval that Nell had already removed her apparently ill-fitting vestments.
“Your husband estimated your frame very well!” she said with a suggestive smirk, taking in Nell’s figure as it appeared in her sensible, well-worn shift. “I shall be able to send you home with a few items tonight, if you like.”
“Well,” Gigi observed, making no move to reclothe herself or leave Nell to her privacy. “Who wouldn’t like that?”
* * *
Nate wasn'tsure if he was indignant or embarrassed.
The last time he'd seen his little wife, he'd kissed her. He hadn't planned to kiss her. Eventually, yes, but not the instant she arrived and so suddenly. Then he'd realized that if he kissed her for any longer, he wouldn't be able to stop and beat a hasty exit. Now, she was missing!
Well, not missing entirely. She had gone into Dover with Kit, from what he'd pieced together, but she hadn't so much as left a note behind letting him know where she'd gotten off to.
The last glimmer of twilight was hanging in the sky. He'd stopped himself from pacing around the foyer like a worried governess and instead had taken to the dining room to write some much-delayed correspondence to his various contacts through Parliament. Trouble was he couldn't keep his focus on the dry, boilerplate sentences for long enough to get them adequately onto paper.
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about that kiss. He had kissed Miss Blakely once, at a ball in London, toward the end of last Season, when it became apparent that they were both amicable to the idea of matrimony. It had been a fine kiss, if not somewhat methodical, and he'd had no problem breaking away after it and sending her on her way. He certainly hadn't had to force himself to step backward before the desire to taste her deeper had overtaken him.
He shook his head, heaving a short sigh. He had thought himself a master of his own baser desires if the likes of Gloriana Blakely hadn't tempted him to dangerous thoughts. She was, after all, considered one of the most beautiful debutantes London had ever seen. Yet, here he was, married to a woman he had initially found mousy and forgettable and somehow she had driven him to the type of distraction he hadn't dealt with since his youth.
Her maid had unpacked her modest assortment of things, hanging up no more than half a dozen dresses in the wardrobe and depositing a book and Nell's spectacles lovingly on the nightstand, where his wife would surely wish them to be. Was she content with so little? It certainly seemed that way, though Nate could make no sense of it.
He'd spent his entire life hungry for the next step, the next achievement, the next victory. He should have been burning bright, eager and anticipating that his largest endeavor, his most carefully kept goal, was finally so near completion. Instead, he kept forgetting the Silver Leaf entirely while considering upholstery and carpeting and a trousseau fitting a beloved bride. He had lost himself in exploring this old tomb and in anticipating his wife's arrival.
Now that she was here, he could only hope that the monotony of the days going by would temper his ardor and allow the space for his old spark to reignite. Such breathless nonsense wasn't sustainable. Everyone knew that.
The sound of voices and the door opening in the foyer brought him immediately to his feet, his eye going immediately to the mirrored panels on the far wall so that he might smooth his hair back into order. The unmistakable sound of his wife's voice layered over Kit's booming laughter sent a spike of alertness into his chest, spurring him in the direction of the commotion.
Nell was pink-faced and grinning, bundled up under so many layers that she might have been a woolen doll. She was carrying two paper boxes, both long rectangles, and Kit seemed to have four more of the same size.
"Oh, Nathaniel!" she cried upon seeing him, her face lighting up as though she were delighted. She carefully deposited the boxes she was holding on the floor and rushed to him, flinging her arms around his middle as though he were a dear old friend. "Oh, thank you so much! I have never had so many fine things! I had such a wonderful day!"
He did not wish to become amorous in front of his cousin, and so he dropped a tight-lipped kiss onto the top of her head and muttered some platitude about it being no trouble at all.
Kit watched them with his eyes narrowed, the same way he'd stared at Nate that night in the pub.
"I'm afraid I've had some wine," Nell whispered, releasing him and stepping back. She tilted her head up to meet his eye, her gray eyes sparkling like moonstones. "Quite a lot of wine," she amended, pressing her lips together as though this were a jest between the two of them.
"I'll simply have to drink some and catch up with you," Nate replied, using the voice he had perfected for charming dinner conversation. It made Eleanor beam up at him, but only narrowed the curious stare from Kit. Nate simply lifted his chin, issuing a silent dare to his cousin. "Come, we can have a bite to eat and you can tell me all about it. Kit, will you stay for dinner?"
"I wish I could," Kit replied, handing the boxes he was carrying to a servant who had come to collect them. "I've business to discuss with my mother. You two will have to come to dinner at mine very soon, especially now that your wife has some proper dinner attire."
"Oh, that sounds lovely," Nell said. "Doesn't it sound lovely, Nathaniel?"
Kit gave an infuriating wide grin, loving that their audience was oblivious to his antagonism.
"It sounds worth considering," Nate replied evenly. "Let's get you out of your coat and get you fed, hm? Kit, shall I see you outside?"
"If you like," Kit replied with a shrug. "I do know my way back."
"I'm not convinced you know as much as you believe you do," Nate said cheerfully, patting Nell on the shoulder as he strode across the room to hasten his cousin through the door. "Go on then, out with you."
Kit chuckled silently, though Nate could see the way his shoulders shook anyhow. His horse was still saddled and waiting for him in the drive.
"She did have quite a lot of wine," Kit told him, approaching the horse and patting its nose. "I think it was that seamstress plying her with an elixir for impulsive shopping. However, you'll be pleased to know she patently refused to add anything to the already exorbitant purchase you have set into motion."
"I wouldn't mind if she had," Nate replied. "Is that what is in those boxes? Clothes?"
"Yes, but not nearly the whole lot. I think it's mostly underthings and a new coat, though of course I didn't inquire. We didn't have time to stop by the cobbler, so you'll have to make another trip for that."
