Page 43 of The Lyon Returns
In the next instance, she picked up a set of blue hair combs, adorned with small blue flowers. “These, I think, will do nicely.” Her tone was no longer conspiratorial. She held the ornate combs up as if gauging how they might look.
“Pardon me, ladies,” a dark-haired, dark eyed woman said, approaching them.
She was taller than Gwen by several inches, and curvy in that way Gwen had always admired, especially as she lacked said curves. She had an arresting look about her. Not pretty, but certainly attractive.
“Lady Culver, are you not? And, would I be correct in assuming you are Mrs. Gideon Devereux?”
Amelia gave the woman a polite smile. “You are correct, madam, I am Lady Culver, and my friend, here, is, indeed, Mrs. Devereux. I’m afraid you have me at a loss. You are?”
“My name is Mrs. Trent. Although we have never met, LadyCulver, we have chanced to attend more than one fête in common over the years.”
“I see,” Amelia said. “How good of you to introduce yourself Mrs. Trent.”
Mrs. Trent turned her attention to Gwen. “I am especially pleasedourpaths have crossed, Mrs. Devereux. I understand you recently wed Gideon.” She paused. Frowned. “Mr. Devereux, that is. Felicitations are in order.”
Gwen flushed, inwardly cursing her tendency to do so. “Thank you. I take it you are acquainted with my husband?”
The woman’s broad mouth curved in what should have been a warm smile. The smile did not reach her dark eyes, however. If anything, the temperature in the shop seemed to drop by several degrees. “Indeed, though I have not seen him in quite some time. Likely due to his voyage to Calcutta, several months ago.”
“He has recently returned to London,” Gwen said, uncertain how else to respond.
“So I heard,” Mrs. Trent said. “Please give him my regards, and my heartfelt congratulations on your marriage.”
“Certainly. I appreciate you taking the time to introduce yourself, Mrs. Trent.”
“Perhaps we shall meet again, Mrs. Devereux.” A moment later, the bells hanging over the door jangled as she exited the shop.
Amelia’s gaze narrowed on the closed door. “I did not care for that woman, for some reason. Did you?”
Gwen shook her head. “I can’t say precisely why.”
“She seemed most keen to meet you. A bit too keen. Now then.” She grasped Gwen’s shoulders, turning her so she faced in the opposite direction. With deft fingers, she plucked Gwen’s hair pins free and finger-combed the length of her hair. “I shall just…and then…”
Gwen’s head bobbled slightly with Amelia’s gentle tugs and twists as she, evidently, fashioned her hair into something other than itsusual sedate knot. She finished, securing her work with the matching combs she’d taken from the display case.
“There. Let us have a look.” She guided Gwen to a floor mirror, waving at one of the seamstresses to bring a hand-held mirror, then held it up for Gwen to see.
Amelia had, in swift order, rolled her hair into two, intersecting coils which she secured with combs, leaving the length of it to hang over one shoulder.
“It’s softer,” Amelia said. “Less severe. It suits you and your lovely robin’s-egg blue eyes.”
She laughed self-consciously at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you. I am dismal at anything related to styling my hair. Perhaps Clara can replicate what you’ve done here. Gideon shall have to purchase these, as well.”
Amelia laughed. “My treat.”
“Didn’t you say my husband could afford the lot?” She started to turn toward the counter.
Amelia stayed her with a touch to her shoulder. “Gwen, you never answered, earlier, about Mr. Devereux. I was trying to ask, apparently in a too-convoluted manner, if he is as alluring as they say?”
Gwen swallowed, remembering how her body had reacted to Gideon’s nearness earlier, his gentle touch, when he’d swiped his thumb along her upper lip. Heat had poured through her, intoxicating and enthralling in its intensity.
Too, last night, entering his bedchamber, she’d struggled to steady her breathing. Before departing for her own chamber, standing close to him, she’d felt an almost overpowering compulsion to touch him and to be touched by him…She couldn’t express it better than that, even in the privacy of her own thoughts. She’d had to order her legs to carry her back to the safety of her own chamber.
Were her unfamiliar sensations due to this reputed allure? She opened her mouth to ask Amelia’s opinion, then closed it with a snap.What would the younger woman think?
Besides, it was just as likely her heated skin and bouts of breathlessness in Gideon’s presence owed to his oddly brusque manner, at times.
And your fingers itching to touch his cheek?
