Page 68 of A Lady of Means
Ink and parchmentwere a paltry substitute for the flesh and bones of a man, especially one like Devyn.He was the man her heart clung to, even if she hadn’t told anyone outside of her family the truth.
Still, Moria threw herself into her letters when she wrote them, into reading his letters when they arrived.She swapped the Burn Book she usually she carried in her reticule for his letters, so that his words were always close at hand.
At first, she threw herself back into the life she had built for herself.Without a good-natured, muscled mountain of a man, she still had dancing, sewing dresses secretly with Fitz’s seamstress friend, gardening and arranging flowers for hospitals and orphanages, shooting, archery, taking care of her nieces and nephews, and social calls.
But all of this busy-ness was just a cover, so she didn't have to spend any time alone or with her thoughts whilehewasout there.
More than all of that, she had her family.Three of them were currently looking at her over the afternoon tea table while Moria gathered her sewing and asked the housekeeper for her cape.
“Where are you going?”Noelle said, moving to grasp her hand.
“It’s Wednesday,” Moria shrugged.
Noelle and Olivia looked to one another, a whole conversation passed but neither stopped Moria from leaving.If she stopped moving, all the things chasing her down would catch up to her.So, she kept running.And she’d become one hell of a runner.It was being still she didn’t have the stamina for.
She found herself, once again, on Bond Street, a footman following close behind with an armful of packages, buying things she couldn’t possibly need.It was Kate Herring who had found her in a milliner’s shop and offered her something she hadn’t been expecting.
“You’ve been…distant…the last month or so.”Kate mused, holding up a green ribbon that Moria grimaced at.It was too putrid.
“I fell in love with the man that would completely obliterate my social situation I’ve extorted and schemed to maintain and now that I have been loved so thoroughly, this whole scene feels hollow in his absence,” is what shewantedto say.
Moria settled on, “I don’t expect you’d understand, Kate.”
Kate took the bolt of bright blue cloth Moria held up.“You could try.”
Moria ran her fingers over a piece of lace, eyeing it next to the blue.“Why is it thatyouthink I’ve been distant the last month or so?”
“You look…lovesick,” Kate touched Moria’s arm.Moria pulled away as if scalded.
“Please, you’ll have to do better than that.”Moria tried to add a touch of laughter to her voice as though the idea were foreign.It wasn’t.She was lovesick, but she wasn’t about to tellthisgirl.
“Is it His Grace?You wish him to hurry up and propose?”
Moria thought for a girl so adept at mathematics, Kate hadn’t quite come up with the right answer for this particular equation.
“Why?Worried he’ll be taken off the market soon?”Moria said with a playful smile, just to gauge the girl’s reaction.
“I’m sure that the daughter of a reverend and a bluestocking would never aim so very high.”
“If you did, no one would blame you,” Moria said, holding up a swath of green silk against the girl’s face, then giving her a decisive nod.“This one.A little lower cut this time.He seems to like the color green.And stop slouching.”
The other woman stood to her full height; Moria gave her an appreciative nod.
“Another thing, less talking about maths and your trips abroad,” Moria said, adding a pair of gloves to Kate’s stack of wares.“Men love to talk about themselves, His Grace especially.I hope you like politics and shooting.He’s not just looking for a duchess, but a politician’s wife as well.”
Moria pulled an auburn curl free from the girl’s coiffure and placed a necklace from a nearby display about her neck.
Then she turned her to face the mirror,“If you aim high, make sure you arm yourself.”
And with a wink and a sashay of pink skirts, Moria exited the shop.
* * *
Four days later,Moria still didn’t want to be around her well-meaning siblings.She didn’t want to be around Letitia, who knew her too well, and she didn’t want to answer her correspondence to Llewyn, who would see through every line of half-hearted banter she would pour onto a page.That’s how she wound up at Gretchen’s house, gift in hand, for a friend she hadn’t seen in weeks.
“I should have left you standing on the stoop longer just to prove a point.”
Moria sat across from her friend, handing her a pink and white hat box bearing a piece of headwear that was overly ostentatious and Gretchen was sure to love.
