Page 52 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
“Lovely choice, my dear, quite lovely.” Then she turned toward the other woman. “Oh hello, Prudence, I’m glad to see you out and about. I feared that perhaps you would not have the proper credit to shop... given your husband’s debts.”
The woman gasped in outrage and threw down the bonnet she’d been holding and stalked out.
Lady Somerstone smiled smugly and then whispered softly to Suzannah, “She’s a terrible gossip and has no place to judge anyone, let alone you. Now, let’s find you a wedding gown to make our young Christopher swoon.”
Suzannah couldn’t help but blush and then smile at the way Lady Somerstone called Kit “young Christopher.”
Octavia linked her arm through Suzannah’s.
“See? No one will dare cross you when my mother is on your side. You have me, of course, but I’m far less imposing than my mother. Give me another twenty years, though, and I’m sure I’ll be a fierce lady indeed.” Octavia winked at her, and Suzannah adored the way it so reminded her of Lionel. She finally began to enjoy shopping.
By early evening when she was deposited back at Kit’s home, she was certain of two things: she would never dare cross the duchess or those she loved, including Kit, and Octavia was indeed her bosom friend.
Suzannah climbed wearily out of the coach and gave her heartfelt goodbyes to Lionel’s mother and sister. Lionel and one of Kit’s footmen carried two stacks of boxes containing everything a countess could possibly need for a wedding and a honeymoon, and much more besides. It was more clothing than Suzannah had ever owned in her life. There were dresses for walks, riding habits, evening dresses, carriage dresses, day dresses, tea gowns, and some whose purpose she had already forgotten.
Lionel had remained with them the entire time, but during the fittings he had elected to sit on one of the couches, reading a paper and ignoring all mention of fashion. She knew his presence was not for the sake of his kin—but because Kit wished for her to be protected at all times by himself or his closest friends.
“I shall remain with you until Kit returns,” Lionel said as he followed Suzannah inside Kit’s townhouse, carrying the last of the boxes.
A footman helped Suzannah remove her cloak. The footman who had accompanied her on the shopping expedition began to take the boxes upstairs to her bedchamber. About half of the gowns she’d purchased still needed to be sewn and would be delivered in the next week. All that mattered for now was that she had what she needed for tomorrow.
Palmer greeted her just inside the door. “Ah, welcome home, Miss Townsend.”
“Thank you, Palmer. How is Henry?” she asked.
“He’s fairing much better. He and I played some chess this afternoon before he rested. He’s only just finished dinner and is sleeping.”
“That is good news.” Suzannah was more than relieved to know Henry was doing well when she wasn’t able to watch over his recovery as much as she wished.
“Palmer, is Kit home yet?” Lionel asked.
“Yes. He arrived a few minutes before you. He’s presently changing for dinner. Are you staying for supper, Lord Basildon?”
Lionel shook his head. “Afraid not, old boy. I have more chaperone duties for Octavia this evening. We have yet another ball.” Lionel bowed to Suzannah and put on his hat. “I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Townsend.”
“Good night, Lord Basildon.” She nodded to him as he departed, then sighed and faced Palmer wearily. “What time is dinner?”
“In a few minutes, but it will only be you and Master Kit, I believe,” Palmer said a little glumly. “The other gentlemen are busy this evening. You need not change if you do not wish to.”
She was relieved that she and Kit would have a private dinner, but even more relieved that she didn’t have to change her dress yet again.
She was debating whether to go up and see Henry now when Kit appeared at the top of the stairs. He was smartly dressed in tan trousers and a bishop’s-blue waistcoat. He had forgone a tailcoat, and somehow the intimacy of that decision made her belly flutter. She liked Kit dressed more casually. It made it easier for her to feel his equal.
He greeted her as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Suzannah. Did you have a fruitful day out?” He offered her his arm. She looped her hand through his arm and walked with him to the dining room.
“Yes, we did. But I fear you will receive a rather large bill from the modiste. Lady Somerstone kept adding items to the list, and I do not think there is a force in all of England strong enough to stop her when she has a mind to shop.”
Kit chuckled, and the warm, rich sound delighted her. “The bill does not concern me. I have grown used to only purchasing necessities, and while it feels wrong to buy any excesses for myself... you are an entirely different matter. You are in need of a wardrobe, and I rather like the idea of spending money on you.”
“I understand that some women may like to feel spoiled, but I confess, it makes me feel uncomfortable. My father... he used to spend almost every spare bit of money on me and often went without. It...” She swallowed as her throat tightened. “I know that you have far more than he did, but still, I shall never want anything in excess for myself. Otherwise, it feels as though...” She didn’t dare continue.
He studied her for a long moment, and she sensed he was somehow peeling away the layers of her words the way she did old layers of oil on a painting when she was attempting to fix an old set at the theater.
“Does it make you feel as though I’ve bought you?” Kit asked.
She nodded but said nothing.
As they sat for dinner, Kit brushed his knuckles over her cheek, his dark eyes studying her seriously. “A man cannot buy a truly free creature. You are free, Suzannah. Never forget that.”
