Page 49 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
“I know what he said.” She steadied her shoulders. “This is what I want.”
John nodded, a strange expression crossing his face. “Very well. But I should warn you, this shop ain’t one of those low secondhand shops. Mrs. Tweedy prides herself on having clothing of the highest quality, so it might be costly.”
She hoped it wasn’ttoocostly.
The shop did look rather lofty. Jaunty bonnets of expensive satin and silk were perched on hat trees, while brocaded and heavily embroidered ball gowns were draped over bureaus and linen presses to show their fine qualities. The everyday attire sat folded neatly in open cupboards, and even the day dresses were made of fine muslin and wool. There were half-boots and dancing slippers, scarves and shifts—anything a woman might need to outfit herself for society. She’d seen nothing like that in Dartmouth, to be sure.
As she roamed the shop looking at the goods, the shopkeeper introduced herself. After a short chat in which Maria explained that she needed a few gowns, she added, “I happen to own some very fashionable mourning attire in a variety of fine designs and fabrics. Might you be interested in trading yours for mine?”
The woman looked at Maria’s well-made redingote and said, “If it’s good quality, miss, I certainly would. There’s always those ladies who need mourning clothes, and fashionable ones are harder to come by than most.”
Maria hated to part with them, but once this bargain with Oliver was done, she could dye the gowns she acquired here if she had to. She only had two more months of mourning—by the time she left England, she might not need mourning clothes anymore. And she still had the one gown she’d carried away with her from the brothel.
She made arrangements with the woman to have a clerk accompany John to the lodging house where she and Freddy had been staying, so the two young men couldfetch her trunks. Before John left, she took him aside.
“I’d appreciate it very much if you’d keep quiet about my mourning gowns, especially with Mrs. Plumtree. I know his lordship would appreciate it as well. I have a ring I could offer you in payment—”
“No, miss, I won’t take aught from you for my discretion. That’s my job—to be discreet about his lordship’s coming and goings. And his fiancée’s as well.”
She cast him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Working the brim of his hat furiously, he looked toward the shop front, then back to her. “Tell me, miss, did his lordship do aught to upset you in the coach?”
“No,” she lied.
John looked skeptical. “It ain’t like him to harm a young lady, but perhaps he got carried away, with you being his fiancée and all. I just want you to know that if you wish . . . if I could help you in any way—”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said, truly touched. “But you have no reason for concern. Your master has been very kind.”
“All right then.” With a quick bow, he went off to join the clerk and they left on their errand.
Oliverhadbeen kind to her in many respects. He’d kept his word and hired Mr. Pinter. He’d offered to buy her gowns, and he’d treated Freddy with more indulgence than could be expected of any man.
But his actions in the carriage hadn’t been a kindness. Because now she knew exactly what she’d be missing if she married Nathan and settled for his mild kisses.
As she went about the shop selecting gowns, she told herself that maybe passion could develop between two people over time. Maybe once she was married to Nathan, it would come out all right in the end.
Deep inside, however, in the naughty part of her that had reveled in Oliver’s fervent kisses, she knew she was lying to herself. Because right now, the only man she ever wanted to kiss again was Oliver.
Chapter Thirteen
As Oliver and Freddy pulled away from the Blue Swan, Oliver paid little heed to the lad’s chatter about his spectacular meal. All he could hear was Maria calling himmy lord,as if she hadn’t just been trembling in his arms.
And the look on her face! Had she been insulted? Or just ashamed? How the devil had she stayed so collected, when he’d felt ready to explode after seeing her find her pleasure so sweetly in his arms? He’d actually come in his trousers, like a randy lad with no control over his urges. Now he had to keep his cloak buttoned up until he could reach Halstead Hall and change his clothes.
She’d made light of their encounter, damn her.Though I thank you for the lesson in passion . . .Had it meant nothing more to her? Apparently not, since she’d said,It isn’t something we should repeat.
Though the idea grated, she was right. They should stayapart, for his sake as well as hers. He’d actually offered to make her his mistress!He, who’d never kept a mistress in his life, who’d joked to his friends that mistresses were more trouble than they were worth since one woman was as good as another.
He’d always been driven by the fear that a mistress might tempt him to let down his guard and reveal his secrets. Then even his family would desert him, and he couldn’t bear that.
Even with his friends, he kept the strongbox of his secrets firmly closed. But with Maria . . .
He stared out the window, trying to figure out at what point in their conversation he’d lost all good sense. Had it been when she’d said she didn’t believe the gossip about him? Or before that, when she’d chastised Pinter for telling it to her?
No. Astonishing as those things had been, what had prompted his rash offer was the lost look on her face after he’d pointed out that Hyatt might not wish to be found. Even now he could see the fear rising in her eyes, much like the fear he’d seen in Mother’s eyes—of being inconsequential, unwanted.
And suddenly he’d desired nothing more than to make Maria feel wanted.
