Page 13 of One Dangerous Desire
“No, Father, only daughters. Just like you.” May grinned as she said it, but she’d often wondered if he wished for a son to take over Sedgwick’s and all of his other interests.
“He’s the best you can do, then?” He grinned back, and she knew they were both thinking of Mama. Her mother’s chief goal had been to see her daughter married to “the best.”
“Perhaps we should invite him and his sister to dinner,” May suggested. She and her father had been remiss about hosting any events since the previous season.
“Excellent, and we should begin planning a ball or a grand celebration.” This was it. Now she’d get an explanation for all that exuberant jumpiness he still had trouble containing.
“And what are we celebrating?” May glanced at Mr. Graves as she questioned her father. He sat leaning on one elbow, his hand resting over his mouth.
“News I know will please you, my girl. What do you say to a new Sedgwick’s right here in the middle of London?” He perched next to her on the settee and reached for one of her hands.
“What about the stores in New York and Chicago?”
Mr. Graves emitted a quiet grunt, and her father instantly released her hand.
“We have able men managing them, my girl.” Her father couldn’t look her in the eyes, but May watched him, willing him to tell her the rest. Instead, he stood and resumed pacing the carpet runner between the settees. “We’ll make our home here now.”
“You don’t like England.”
He turned on her and settled his hands on his hips. “I’ll learn to. Let’s add an Englishman to the family and see if that helps.”
May sat up tall, straight enough to make her mother proud, and ignored the tense figure of Douglas Graves at her left as she asked, “What of my dowry, Father? Wouldn’t it be useful in this new venture of yours?”
Her father whipped his head around to stare at his business partner. “It will never come to that. I do not require my daughter’s marriage portion to make this venture thrive.”
“No.” Mr. Graves spoke for the first time, and her father released a stopped-up breath. “And seeing you married will be the highlight of my visit to London, Miss Sedgwick.”
“Yes, my girl. Let’s get you settled as a countess, and then perhaps we’ll draw a few lords and ladies to the new Sedgwick’s. We’ll need their custom to make the new shop soar.”
May felt little certainty that marriage to Devenham would attract customers to her father’s shop. Aristocratic gentleman and ladies might be forced to accept her into their social circles after such a match, but shopping at her father’s retail establishment was another matter entirely. And if the rumors about his women and gambling ever got out, it would bring ruin and scandal down on all of them.
Chapter Five
“THIS ISN’T RIGHT.” Rex picked at the edges of his tangled necktie while his valet settled an evening jacket on his shoulders. It didn’t look as it should. In fact, it was possibly the worst neck cloth-tying effort he’d ever seen. Tonight, of all nights, he wanted to present himself as a polished gentleman.
Brooks glanced at his employer’s tie and shrugged. “Looks right as rain to me, guv.”
“With this hanging out?” Rex lifted one end of the white piqué fabric and the whole began to unravel. “There should be a matching point on the other side.”
Brooks stepped in front of him and huffed out a less than obsequious sigh. “Now you’ve gone and done it. I’ve to redo it now, don’t I?”
The young man stared at the cloth a moment, a strip in each hand, as if he’d just been asked to assemble a complicated puzzle.
“We could ask for Mrs. Hark’s assistance,” Rex offered. “I’m sure she knows how to tie a knot.”
His valet let out a low growl and began twisting the fabric in earnest, coming no closer to any semblance of a neatly settled neck cloth. “If only she’d put a knot in her tongue. Give all our ears a rest.”
“Enough.” Rex yanked the tie from Brooks’s hands. “Show her the respect she’s due. The woman has more experience in service than all the rest of you put together.”
Rex generally avoided highlighting Brooks’s failings as a valet. They’d met in the East End, where Rex had gone to inspect a factory he considered purchasing, and the young man clumsily attempted to pick his pocket. He’d been so cold and hungry that Rex offered to buy him a meal in a nearby pub. Within half an hour, the fellow wove a convincing tale of being a gentleman’s servant who’d fallen on hard times. Having stumbled on hard times himself more often than he cared to recall, Rex decided to give Brooks a chance at employment. Now it was increasingly clear the boy had never worked as a valet in his life.
“Shall I call Mrs. Hark up, sir?” Brooks had transformed into a proper servant, back stiff, shoulders back, and his voice clipped and precise. Rex almost preferred the quick-talking buck he’d met in the East End.
“See to my coat and hat. I’ll go down to her myself.”
As he descended the stairs, the woman’s cackle of laughter stopped him in his tracks. His housekeeper chastised him, railed at the younger servants, and hated his dog, but he’d never heard her giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Mrs. Hark?”
