Page 62 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“Not personally, but—”
“Well, Darling does know him personally.” She didn’t know if he did know the Prince of Wales personally, but it sounded good, and she was determined to set this man in his place. As she couldn’t very well shorten the long nose he looked down at her from, she would have to bring his conceit down to size. “Do you know who I am?”
He started to shake his head. She pounced before he could utter any words. “I am the woman who is going to purchase enough items today to pay your bills for a month. I am accustomed to purchasing on credit and shall continue to do so. Should Mr. Drake Darling have to come in here to personally see to this matter, he will not be at all happy. You, dear sir, do not want to be the reason for his unhappiness. Now I wish to see what you have in silk underthings. Be quick about it. I do not suffer sluggards well.”
He was quick about it, very quick about it. Phee took perverse satisfaction in how solicitous he became. Half an hour later, wearing bright smiles, she and Marla walked out of the shop.
“You sounded like a bloody nob,” Marla whispered. “Are you sure you’re not a lady of quality?”
“I’m quite certain. A lady would not end up in the river.”
“What if your Mr. Darling doesn’t want to pay for those things?”
“He will. He told me to purchase what I needed.”
“But those aren’t things that areneeded. Just things we’d enjoy having.”
“It’ll be fine, Marla. I’m relatively certain he’s quite well off. Now, is there a milliner in the area?”
Ebenezer Whistler stared at the pile of silk nothings that the lady had determined she required. He’d never had one customer purchase so many items during one visit. Silk stockings for every day of the week, chemises of the softest cotton, satin nightdresses, lacy shawls. One of anything was not enough for this woman, but he had not objected after she’d taken him to task because she spoke as though she were someone who might take tea with the queen.
But she dressed as a common laborer. He looked at her signature in his ledger beside the total amount owed to him. No gent was going to pay that much for his servant’s madness. He shouldn’t bother the fellow. He should have stopped the lady before it got this far, but fool that he was, he kept hearing coins dropping into his palm. He should simply put everything back in its place.
The chimes above his door tinkled as it was opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man walked in, his long strides bringing him to the counter before Ebenezer had a chance to properly greet him. This man was not in want of money. His clothes were well tailored, his mien one of success. He nodded toward the pile of items.
“Are those the things the lady who was just in here wished to purchase?”
Ebenezer nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The gent arched a brow at the book. Ebenezer turned it his way. “I’m afraid, sir, that she may have overreached.”
Without hesitation, the gentleman took the pen from the inkwell and scrawled his name—Drake Darling—beside hers. “Oh, I suspect this is paltry compared to the damage she’ll do before the day is done.”
Drake was grateful that he had decided to follow them. He’d been peering in the shop window when he’d seen Phee’s back stiffen. The aristocratic lady that she was had risen to the fore. She’d spoken with such authority that he’d been able to clearly hear her. He suspected the clerk initially hadn’t known whether to shake in his shoes or laugh. Based on the items he’d given her leave to purchase, Ebenezer Whistler had shaken in his shoes.
Drake very well might have too. He’d made arrangements for the items to be delivered to his residence. Later, he would send a note to his man of business warning him of several unusual bills that would be coming his way. His man would think he’d taken on a mistress. He had little doubt a mistress would be less expensive.
Phee was in her element now: shopping. It was how ladies of quality spent their afternoons and she was apparently remembering quite nicely the specifics of how it should be done.
For a heartbeat, he considered catching up with her and stopping the madness but he was rather enjoying the lively bounce in her step, the smiles he occasionally caught a glimpse of. It was equally obvious that the little maid traipsing along beside her was having a grand time. He didn’t want to spoil their fun.
It also occurred to him that this little adventure might accomplish what last night’s hadn’t: bring back Phee’s memories. He wanted to be nearby if that happened, because he suspected she would be quite disoriented as she began piecing things together.
It was an odd thing: the desperation with which he wanted her to remember, the desperation with which he didn’t. Her being in his care needed to come to an end—swiftly and immediately. And yet...
She’d purchased gloves for the little maid. While the money wasn’t coming out of her pocket, but out of his, he was still surprised that she’d thought to do it at all. It seemed each day, no, each hour, he learned something new and unexpected about her. Something that intrigued him and made him want to know more.
So he followed at a discreet distance, collecting bread crumbs of information, like some pauper in search of any scrap of food to appease his hunger. But where she was concerned, he possessed an insatiable appetite. He feared he might never satisfy his desire to know everything about her.
“You can’t keep purchasing me things,” Marla said, as they neared the market.
“It makes it more fun.” They’d had the best time ordering hats at the milliner’s and shoes at the cobbler’s.
“But your employer will not be happy about it.”
“I can handle him.” Although she didn’t think she would have to. He wasn’t going to object. She didn’t know why she knew that but she did. And if he did object, she would simply have the cost of the items for Marla taken out of her wages. He was going to have to take something out of her wages anyway. They had walked past a shop that displayed blown glass figurines in the window, and Phee had spotted one that she wanted—desperately. She would cancel all the other items she’d purchased if need be to obtain this one intricate piece of glass. The delicate piece was now wrapped and secured in a reticule she’d purchased after convincing the shop clerk Drake Darling was good for the items.
She seemed to have a way of convincing shop clerks of a good many things. Marla said it was her tone, that she would not take no for an answer. Perhaps it was. Phee never once considered that her requests would be refused. She wasn’t accustomed to not being obeyed. Perhaps that was why Darling had hired her to be his housekeeper, even though she was relatively young. He knew she’d brook no disobedience from her subordinates—once she had subordinates.
