A Cinderella for the Viscount

by Liz Tyner

  * * *

  When Devlin arrived at the building, Mr Grimsley and a patron stood at the counter, discussing the ornate possibilities for necklaces.

  As the man finally paused his conversation to examine another bauble placed in front of him, Grimsley asked Devlin if he would mind waiting, or, if he wished, Grimsley would summon his wife to assist.

  Devlin ignored the words. ‘I thought you might have another person nearby this afternoon. I am here to speak with...that person.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Grimsley said and directed him to a curtain. Beyond that Devlin saw a plank door, which hung askew in the frame, causing a thin triangular gap at the top of it.

  He rapped and the door creaked open. Her face peeked around the edge and she smiled.

  Relief flooded his body.

  She stepped back, took his arm and pulled him inside. ‘No one knows I’m here but the shopkeepers and my parents.’

  He swept in and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close as he shut the door. ‘No one knows I’m here either, so obviously we’re somewhere else.’

  For a second longer than necessary, he held her close, reassuring himself that she still welcomed him as a friend, then he immediately pushed himself away as his body started to long for her.

  He turned, examining the room, distracting himself from the realisation that she was so close.

  A desk sat in the centre. A stack of ragged volumes sat on each side of her chair, which was missing a slat.

  Rachael didn’t need to be in such surroundings and she didn’t have to be. All he could think of was that she preferred this over him, yet she seemed unaware of his displeasure, which didn’t surprise him. It had been unusual for her butler to notice the anger and Devlin’s dismay had faded once he saw her.

  He pushed aside the strange emotion of jealousy and let himself be impressed. She was working like an apprentice to learn the trade and no part of it seemed too lowly for her. This would be the person he wanted beside him in a battle.

  * * *

  ‘I expected to find you surrounded by jewels, not dust, ledgers and fixtures.’

  ‘Jewels at night, mathematicals in the morning and this in the afternoon.’ She swept her arm out to encompass the room, as if she were some sort of sorceress and the surroundings would suddenly turn golden. Instead of gold, the dust only gleamed more.

  He saw the tiredness under her eyes and a pang of regret hit him. Not regret that he’d been with her. He’d never feel that. But the knowledge that instead of relieving her burdens, he’d added to them by keeping her awake longer.

  But he would not apologise for their lovemaking.

  She put a slip of paper in the book on the desk, marking her place, and closed the cover. ‘This was the apprentice’s old room. He wanted to become a silversmith instead and Father let him leave. Now, we order goods from him. Mr Grimsley said a new apprentice isn’t needed now and we can order almost any metal item a customer wants. We are expanding to have more gold wares and we’ll make more from them.’

  ‘If someone wanted flatware designed, for instance?’ He should leave, but he didn’t want to go and he didn’t want to abandon her.

  ‘Mr Grimsley would be able to sketch what you described until he had a picture of it to send to be made. That is an easy task. If it weren’t for what you said, about being more visible, I would probably discontinue the jewellery altogether. We make little overall from the baubles, but I’m hoping to change that.’

  She paused and he held out his hand. She joined him, her skin delicate against his and filling him with fresh desire.

  Even standing surrounded by drabness, she glittered. The excitement in her eyes transferred to him and she took a step and ended up in his arms again.

  For a brief moment he held her and savoured every pulse of her closeness. He’d not known the simple solace that could be found in such innocence and that holding Rachael could make him feel a different person. Perhaps that was some of what she’d felt in the night. He hoped, in encouraging her, he’d made her feel her own strength. Her own resilience that hid beneath the surface and would always bring her rising up like a phoenix.

  Then, he heard Grimsley’s voice. She’d heard it as well. She drew away and shook her head, lips pressed together.

  She found a small box, opened it, and slipped another oversized ring on her finger. He couldn’t understand her taste in jewellery. Again, it was large on her finger. Then she held her hand flat and flicked the side of the metal with her finger and the bauble opened, the top sliding away.

  ‘It’s for headache powders.’ She spoke softly.

  ‘I didn’t know you had headaches.’ Their whispers kept them close.

  ‘I don’t usually. But I sent the silversmiths drawings of poison rings. I asked if they could reproduce it. And I’ve told them if they have any fresh ideas, to please let me know.’ She flashed the ring. ‘I found this one. I didn’t know we had it. This one is rather ghastly, but I’m hoping for smaller designs, mostly using paste stones so it will not be an investment for the customer, but a novelty. Beautiful rings, however, that would stand alone on their own merit. My plan is that unusual items may bring customers in and then the other wares will tempt them while they’re here.’

  He took her fingers, drawing her near, impressed with her delicate hands.

  ‘I don’t plan to have many for view because I want the women to have the option of having something no one else has seen.’ She reached out and when she touched his chest, it was as if they’d embraced.

  He could no longer study the ring and he didn’t care, reassured to be near her again. ‘You think ladies will be interested in something so macabre?’

  She nodded, clasping him, causing him to feel that he surrounded her as snugly as the ring fitted on her finger.

  ‘It’s like having a surprise within a jewel,’ she said.

  The words would have fitted her as well.

  ‘Something different and I am planning to have a simple matching necklace and earrings to sell with it. I want them to be as unique as possible, so the ladies will have something to show and compare with their friends. If it goes well, I may offer bracelets which can hold a note, or a drawing or lock of hair from a loved one. I have two already on order.’

  He could feel her excitement and the rush of enthusiasm she had for the project, and it matched his own feelings for her.

  ‘It will also give me something to talk about when I am with others if I have one noticeable trinket. Meeting new people will be easier. I’ve instructed Grimsley that the silversmiths must use the finest craftsmanship and if the container jewels sell well, we will be able to use gold.’

  ‘What if someone really uses one of the rings for poison?’

  ‘Well, I would assume they can use one of the spoons I sell for the same thing. And they hold three or four times as much. And a silver teapot could be used for poison.’

  ‘And as a weapon. Remember Father’s chipped tooth.’

  She put her fingertips to her lips. ‘It would be fun to design a teapot with a dagger in the lid, I suppose, but again I don’t want anyone to be serious about using the wares destructively.’

  She closed the remaining ledger that had been open. ‘We are planning other unique items. I saw a walking stick with a spyglass as a handle and have ordered one. I asked Grimsley to draw a horse’s head on a cane to suggest a man might have a walking stick with his favourite animal’s likeness at the handle. If we sell one-of-a-kind items people can talk about with their friends...well, the uniqueness may cause people to speak favourably about all our wares.’

  ‘I had no idea you would take this so seriously so quickly. And have good plans a man of affairs might not even imagine. I’m looking forward to how your suggestions will improve the business.’

  ‘It is like a puzzle to see what will work and I think it’s
fascinating. Grimsley has some ideas and we’ve made several lists, trying to work out the costs of each idea and the possible profits. We’re also trying to plan large, impactful items that might catch a customer’s eye. Grimsley said they might notice the bigger item and carry that affection to a smaller thing closer to the amount they can spend. It is like having one wine for sale for an enormous cost, then having many lower-priced wines that don’t seem as extravagant next to the one. And all equally matched in taste.’

  She turned, picking up a huge silver urn, running her fingers over the metal. ‘This has been here since Mr Grimsley started. It hasn’t sold and it might be best hidden under a bed. We thought we could send it to the former apprentice and have many smaller items made from the silver. In fact—’ She pulled out another piece of paper. ‘Mr Grimsley prepared a list of things we can use to turn into sales with little expense. He believes it will help us while we increase patronage.’

  Devlin was almost jealous of the urn and of the affection she had developed for the business. He didn’t want to be relegated to the background of her life. He wanted to be beside her, experiencing successes and failures with her.

  He twirled her around, wanting to capture her attention. ‘What future plans do you have in the social world?’

  ‘Tomorrow Mother and I are to take tea with the Duchess. I hope she is not overly caustic.’

  Caustic.

  ‘Highwood?’ He raised a brow in question and Rachael agreed.

  ‘Unlikely. To her there is no such thing. Just pretend it is a sleight of hand with words and it means nothing more. Which is the best way to approach it,’ he said,

  He paused, then continued, ‘I remember recently, the strangest thing happened to me. I was out and about in the early hours of the morning returning a woman home. And even though her words seemed to say otherwise, I suspected she might wish to meet me again. Was I right?’

  ‘Yes. That is, if I was the woman you were returning home. If not, then I think she would likely wish to never, ever be near you again.’

  ‘Do we remain friends then?’ The words almost hurt him to ask. In the past, when someone became a friend after lovemaking, it meant they were about to travel different directions.

  ‘I hope always.’

  ‘So, Rachael, if I were to visit tonight, would you open the door for me?’

  ‘You must promise to be careful not to be seen.’

  ‘I will. But few things can remain secret for ever. If romances are kept private, and unacknowledged in the light of day, they are respected as such when only two people are involved.’

  ‘So, everyone will become aware if we continue to meet?’

  ‘Yes. We are all animals with instincts. And people sense when something changes in actions between two people. As much as we might try to continue to act as we always have, it’s nearly impossible to do so.’

  ‘If we continue on, do you think everyone will notice?’

  ‘Just the ones who matter to us and the ones that like to spread rumours. So, yes, except for a rare few. You have made another step forward into society. To be recognised enough that other people are concerned about your actions.’

  ‘Mother thinks I am working here so you and I will have a place to meet.’

  ‘You can never let society know that you are toiling and expect to be welcomed at the finest houses. It could destroy your efforts and do the opposite of what you wish. It would be better for you to take the ledgers to your home.’

  ‘I will be careful,’ she said. ‘But I need Grimsley’s help and I need to school myself on as much of the merchandise and transactions as I can. I need to be able to understand what the notes in the ledgers refer to.’

  ‘You aren’t planning to give this up? If the business turns around and Grimsley can handle it?’

  She shook her head.

  He thought of the impact that could make on her life. On his life and he chose his direction.

  ‘I want to call on you at your home and I believe it should be in the day, and at the front door. I think it is important to you. To both of us. I will be at your house tomorrow afternoon if that will suit you.’

  A romance would have to stand the light of day if it were to proceed.

  Indecision raced across her face. He saw her thoughts plainly. She would be risking another chance of her private life being discussed publicly.

  ‘I will just stop in briefly, if that’s what you wish. I considered your suggestion that I get a dog and one was whining near my house last night. I sent my staff to search it out in the morning and now we have found the right pet for me. I want to introduce the two of you.’

  ‘You want to introduce me to your dog?’

  Then, just before he left, the words that had been settling in his brain and absorbing him fell from his lips. ‘Yes. I thought if we were to marry, you’d best meet the newest member of my family. There’s no one else for me but you.’

  Her eyes widened and he deemed she would have taken rejection easier.

  ‘It’s just an idea for you to tumble around in your thoughts. Not a question, you understand. Just a consideration.’

  ‘For both of us?’ Her expression hadn’t softened.

  ‘I would wait for six years for you,’ he said. ‘But you do not have to wait for me.’

  He walked to the urn and ran his fingers over the cool silver. ‘Before, I thought I loved someone and when she rejected me, I looked around me and decided love wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t needed. It didn’t matter. I would always be surrounded by people I could make happy with a smile and jest. And then I believed myself complete. I don’t want to be complete any more—can’t be—unless you are at my side.’

  He held the urn so he could see his reflection in it. ‘I have to become the man who can make you happy in marriage.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The butler let Devlin into the sitting room and left to fetch Rachael. At his side stood, or wobbled, his new pet. He reached down to pat his head and was rewarded with a whine and a distinctly dog scent.

  ‘The butler said you have brought a friend with you?’

  She looked at his feet.

  A half-growl or half-sputter greeted her.

  She gasped. ‘That’s your dog?’

  He viewed the bulldog with half of one ear missing and a rather droopy eye. The dog limped two steps, knees stiff, and gave Rachael a puzzled glance.

  ‘Yes. He’s worn, but not entirely worn out,’ he said.

  ‘Is he injured?’ She put her knuckles to her chin.

  This wasn’t the praise he expected to be heaped upon him for his commitment. But he inspected the beast. He liked Scamp.

  ‘My stableman found him limping near my house. The dog needs a lot of care. I had to carry him from my carriage. He’s not the steadiest of dogs, but he can rush when food is prepared.’

  ‘He’s definitely not a puppy.’

  ‘No. I thought an older dog would be prudent, particularly as he didn’t have a home. But then I saw that he’s not in as good a condition as you’d expect. It is hard for him to navigate the stairs. I think he gets confused halfway and forgets which direction he planned. He needs someone to carry him. The butler has enlisted a stable boy to help. The stable boy is pleased with his new duties. He sees this as an advancement.’

  He reached down and rubbed the dog’s head. ‘He’s a bit dotty, I think.’

  ‘You could have had a puppy.’

  ‘Perhaps later. But after I saw Scamp, then it seemed unlikely anyone else would want him. I didn’t want someone to think him more a problem than a pet. They could select a puppy and where would that leave Scamp?’

  ‘Does he do any tricks?’

  ‘Just walking and barking.’ He looked at her. ‘And those are not always easy for him, but you cannot discount barking. It’s much better th
an whining.’

  ‘You have taken on a commitment to him. And you chose an animal that is in advanced years and you have added staff to care for him.’

  ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’ He scratched Scamp under his chins and the dog grumbled again. ‘That’s his most pleasant noise.’

  ‘You have a companion that hardly demands anything of you at all. Just staff.’ She laughed.

  He frowned. ‘Scamp is a good dog. I knew instantly that he was right for me.’ He reached down again, patting the dog. ‘He’s got a hint of a rattle in his bark and I suppose his bite isn’t that trustworthy. He’s lost his teeth.’

  ‘Can he see?’ She bent closer.

  ‘Seems to.’

  ‘That’s fortunate.’

  Silence grew between them and he reached down, picking up Scamp.

  ‘He’s unwieldy,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. He hates to walk. Even if you don’t consider Scamp much of a pet, I do.’

  ‘It is good that you took him in.’

  ‘He needed a home at the same time you’d suggested I needed a pet. I thought it a happy accident.’

  Rachael’s mother walked into the room. ‘I thought I heard a dog bark.’ She scrutinised Scamp. ‘And I did. Poor thing. How old is he?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not certain.’

  ‘Have you had him long?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘You took in an elderly dog. How noble.’ Mrs Albright clapped her hands together. ‘A kind gesture. Devlin, your generous spirit amazes me. I’m so thankful that we’ve had the privilege to know your family.’

  With those words, she left.

  Devlin shot Rachael a glance, telling her wordlessly that her mother understood.

  But it didn’t matter to her. Her mother was kind and all the things a mother should be, but she’d been married to a man who truly understood commitment to a family, though he didn’t understand anything about business.

  Devlin knew more than he let on about the intricacies of making money, but less about creating a true family.