Page 53 of When the Rogue Returns
“Of course they would,” Isa said quickly, and bent to pick up the shoes so she could restore them to theirbox.
The two of them seemed a bit afraid of this Amalie. Victor would have to meet the dainty-footed servant who could frighten both Isa and Lochlaw.
The door to the shop opened and Mary Grace slipped in. She kept her head down as she approached, but he noticed that her cheeks were a bright red. “Mr. Gordon wants to know if he should send round for some tea for his lordship.”
Lochlaw was staring at the shoes, as if still trying to gauge if they really were too small. “No, no tea.” He frowned. “I wonder why the cobbler sold them to me,” he said to Isa. “He had them in the window and I thought they were perfect. He asked your size, and I said your feet were about this big”—he demonstrated with his hands—“and I think he just didn’t listen.”
“Probably,” Isa said in a soothing tone.
Mary Grace was edging back toward the door when Lochlaw called out, “Miss Gordon!”
She froze with the look of a startled doe before squeaking, “Yes, my lord?”
He grabbed the shoes from Isa and walked up to show them to Mary Grace. “Do these look small to you?”
The poor girl swallowed convulsively. “Um... it... well... it depends on who they’re for. You have to measure the woman’s feet to be certain.”
He slumped. “I should have done that. I didn’t think I’d need to, though. Women’s feet are all small, are they not?”
“Well, mine are,” she ventured, her blush creeping up to the tips of her ears, “but my mother’s aren’t, so it depends.”
“Of course it does,” he mumbled. “I should know that. I’m such a dullard.”
“Not at all!” Mary Grace protested. “You’re just not used to buying women’s shoes. When you go to the cobbler for shoes for yourself, he probably does the measuring for you.”
“Actually, I don’t go to the cobbler,” he admitted ruefully. “Some fellow comes to the house and Mother tells him what to make and they wrap a string around my feet.” Awareness dawned. “Ohhh, that’s what the string is for. Measurements.” He stared down at the shoes. “Some man of science I am.”
“Oh no, but you’re brilliant!” she cried. “Who cares about shoes? You understandatomic theory. That’s far more important than shoes.”
Lochlaw’s eyes lit up. “You know about atomic theory?”
She blinked, then dropped her gaze again. “Only a little. I read most of Dalton’s book, but I—I got a bit confused by the part about chemical synthesis.”
“That’s not as complicated as it seems at first glance.” He turned the half boots round in his hand. “I could... explain it to you sometime. If you want.”
Her eyes shot to him and her blush crept down her neck. “That would be lovely. Just... lovely.” From behind her, Gordon called through the doorway, and she mumbled, “I’d better go. Uncle wants me.”
When she turned, Lochlaw said, “You and your uncle should attend my house party. Mrs. Franke is already coming, and I see no reason why you couldn’t all come. It would just make it more complete.”
She halted, the redness now showing on the back of her neck. “If Uncle says it’s all right,” she said, “that would be quite... lovely.” Obviously Mary Grace wasn’t terribly articulate when it came to young gentlemen. Unless they were discussing science.
Victor glanced over at Isa, only to find her looking from Lochlaw to Mary Grace. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she whispered, “I’ve never heard her say that many words at one time in all my life. I didn’t even know she knew about atomic theory.”
“Whatisit?” Victor whispered back.
Isa shrugged. “No idea. I couldn’t understand one jot of that Dalton book. It was all numbers and proportions. I know about how to use chemicals, not what makes them work.”
“Well, I have no knowledge of chemistry at all,” Victor admitted. “That was one subject Father didn’t know enough about to teach me.”
“Your father taught you?” she asked.
Only when her carefully nonchalant tone registered did he realize he’d revealed more than he’d intended. “Some. We... er... traveled too much for me to have formal schooling.”
“I never knew that. Why were you traveling? Where did you go? What subjectsdidyour father know?”
The baron was heading back toward them, looking pensive, and Victor seized with great relief on the chance to abandon the topic of his father. “Lochlaw, perhaps you should take those shoes back to the cobbler.”So Isa and I can have some privacy.“Clearly he ought to have told you that you needed measurements before he sold them to you. I’ll bet if you go now and tell him what happened, he’ll make good his mistake.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Lochlaw said and turned for the door. But before he got very far, Isa called out, “Tell me, Rupert, did you ever look up Mr. Cale inDebrett’sas you said you were going to?”
