It was unladylike to work. However, Pia only delivered the most beautiful and unusual wares from her aunt’s shop. The objects were always soft-paste, which gave them a white marble finish easily painted with fancy designs.
Also, the objects were small enough for Pia to fit into her purse and there was never a monetary exchange of money on her end.
So, in truth, it was hardly work. Pia called on some of the best homes in London and left them with a gift. She’d made more acquaintances in the last few months than she’d ever had as a child or while her husband had been alive.
Lord Seys was not a man she wished to upset.
She curtsied. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
“No, it is I who should be grateful.” He smiled and Pia was glad to see no hint of sexual intention in his eyes. The smile was simply a smile. Friendly. Calming. “The people you take my porcelain to are very important. They’d never let a servant touch their things, and I am far too busy a man to make calls all day.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” She was paid very well and did almost nothing for it. In fact, she’d made enough to not have to make deliveries during the winter. Her plan was to visit a friend whose husband had recently passed.
Seys turned to Melody. “All seems to be in order. I shall see you next Season.” To Pia, he said, “I know it is early, but it would please me if you promised me a dance for the coming Season.”
“I don’t take part in the Season, my lord,” she said.
He looked her over and then smiled. “Well, we’ll just have to change that, won’t we? Good day.” He bowed to Pia before he left.
The scent of sugared almonds lingered after his departure and made Melody’s mouth water. Marzipans were an expensive treat.
Melody closed the door behind him and smiled. “Handsome, is he not? And wealthy.”
Pia scoffed. “You are becoming worse than Mama. Handsome or not, I will not rewed.” She still suffered from the sting of her first marriage.
Her aunt tilted her head. “One doesn’t need to wed in order to enjoy a man. I could teach you how to please a man.”
“No, but thank you.”
“It’s not hard. It would help with your confidence, I’m sure. You shouldn’t let what your husband did to you ruin the rest of your life.” Aunt Melody had never married, though she’d had more offers than most Pia was certain.
Instead of marriage, Melody had taken over her lover’s pottery shop. She’d fallen for an artist much like herself. He’d named it after her and had willed it to her upon his death a few years ago.
“Men do not interest me,” Pia said. “And I wish you wouldn’t have forced the attention of those gentlemen in the shop upon me.”
Her aunt gasped. “I did nothing. That was all you. You came in here with your eyes glowing as though you’d been spellbound in a memory.” Her aunt shook her head and sighed. “You were thinking about that boy again, weren’t you?”
Pia didn’t deny it. “I loved him.”
“That was a decade ago. More than that, really.”
Pia shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” It never mattered. She’d lost the only man she’d ever love. Perhaps her first husband had known there was something wrong with her. Pia hadn’t even been given a Season to find love. The moment her father thought her old enough, he’d married her to the son of one of his friends.
Pia hadn’t fought. Adam Jones was gone and then, years later, she’d been informed of his death. He’d been the illegitimate son of the Earl of Freylor and the first person who ever made her feel truly beautiful. In his eyes, she hadn’t been something to breed or conquer. She’d been Pia. His Pia.
Melody pushed off the door, walked toward her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I miss him, too. He was a charming lad.” Melody had been friends with Adam’s mother, Georgiana Jones.
It was at Aunt Melody’s home where Pia met and fell in love with Adam.
Aunt Melody hugged her and then pulled away. “Very well. I won’t bring men up again. Besides, having you here working for me has been most beneficial. Not only do I get to spend time with my favorite person in the world, but I have help. I would have made the calls myself, but for some reason, women do not enjoy my company.” She moved away, stood at the table in the back corner of the room, and grinned libidinously. She knew exactly why very few women liked her.
“If you stopped flirting with their husbands…”
Melody waved her hand. “It is not my fault that all the world thinks me the new Zofia Wittowa.” Zofia was a legendary Greek courtesan and spy that Melody held in much esteem.
Zofia died a year ago, and it hadn’t taken long for an admirer to write her memoirs. Pia had read them, finding the woman’s life grotesque, yet one could never call it dull. She’d had affairs all across Europe while secretly spying for her country.
Melody had affairs. Melody thought Pia should as well, but Pia refused.
Not that it did her any good. Since birth, it had never mattered how good she and Melody truly were, the world had been told to see them as whores, thanks to her grandfather’s ranting.
Years ago, Pia had experienced the same treatment as her aunt, but her previous marriage of over nine years—with no rumors of affairs on her part—saved her reputation and made her acceptable.
Melody’s expression relaxed as she held out a banknote. “Are you sure you can’t stay until next Season?”
“I cannot.” But she was glad her aunt wished for her to stay. Pia was not used to people who cared whether she came or went.
“I’ve another room at my house,” her aunt said. “You have the key. Why not stay with me upon your return? Think of all the fun we’ll have.”
“I like my home. I enjoy my own space, and I’ve already stayed in London longer than I should. The journey could take some time. I would like to be indoors before the heart of winter strikes.”
Melody lifted a brow and tucked her chin. “You could make more if you made deliveries out into the country.”
“I can’t,” Pia said. She went for the banknote.
Melody snatched it out of reach. “Well, at least make a few for me in the city you are visiting. Where does Lady Gillian live again?”
Pia shook her head. “She lives where she’s always lived. Where we all used to live. In Chester.”
Melody dropped her shoulders with a great breath. “Chester? You’re going back? But you swore—”
“I’ve no choice.” Pia had avoided Chester since her husband Ginter’s death. She’d been promised to another before Ginter. Lord Sirius Hayes.
She detested him even though it had been many years since she’d seen him. She’d heard that he’d changed, but she doubted it. The boy had been selfish. Likely, the man had grown up to be the same.
Melody frowned. “Are you going to see your parents?”
“I pray they never know I was even there.” Her parents rarely left Chester, not even for the Season. It was the reason Pia had moved to London.
“I heard that Sirius is now the Earl of Gordie and that he’s yet to wed.”
Pia scoffed. “He’s a fool like his brother. I’m not surprised no woman would have him.” She’d detested Sirius and Tobias. She’d hated the way they’d treated Adam.
“Well, you make sure to keep that in mind,” her aunt warned. “Earl or not, Sirius would ruin your life. His association with Lord Van Dero means he can’t be trusted.”
Pia agreed. When one made a list of the worst men in England, they started with the duke. Melody’s friends went on and on about him, so much so that Pia often had trouble sleeping at night. She didn’t know how close Sirius and the duke were, and she had no intention of finding out.
“All those Roman walls and Tudor history,” Melody said as she recalled her childhood town. “I say, when is the last time I was there? I’d have likely enjoyed living there more if my father hadn’t wanted me gone. Did I ever tell you that he threatened to blind me?”
Pia ga
sped. “No. I’m sorry.” Pia’s father had been kinder than Melody’s, but since it was her grandfather who’d controlled their livelihood, he’d been distant. Pia’s own mama had tried to love her, but even she could barely meet Pia’s eyes. Her disappointment had been clear.
Pia was not looking forward to going home, but Gillian was in mourning for her husband, who had been the last Earl of Gordie, and could not leave.
From Gillian’s letter a month ago, she sounded so lonely. Pia could not delay the visit.
“Pia, Chester isn’t far from Liverpool, is it?” her aunt asked innocently... as though she didn’t already know the answer.
Pia sighed. It was barely a day’s ride. “Very well. Give me what you will for Liverpool.”
Her aunt squealed. “Bless you, dear. There are only two.” Melody gave Pia the note and then went to a shelf. She checked the items against the ledger and then turned to Pia and held up two small turtledoves. “This is all. I’ll write down the names of the owners for you.” She turned away to wrap the turtledoves in cloth.
Pia placed the banknote in her purse and then carefully took the turtledoves once they were ready.
Melody gave her ten guineas.
Pia’s eyes widened. “Ten guineas to deliver two small porcelain turtledoves?” She smiled. “You should have led the conversation with that.” The amount would likely secure her better housing come next Season.
“They are important, Pia. Every piece is important. Please make certain they reach their places intact. It is vital that no harm comes to them.”
“I know,” Pia said. She’d delivered nearly a hundred of the small porcelain objects and had never broken one.
“And stay away from the earl,” her aunt pressed.
“I know.” She kissed her aunt’s cheek. “I’ll see you come spring.”
See how Sirius and Pia's story unfolds.
Get the story HERE.
Book List Order
Also by DEBORAH WILSON
∫ ∫ ∫
VALIANT LOVE SERIES
Book 1 - The Perfect Lady
Book 2 - The Perfect Gentleman
Book 3 - The Perfect Duke
Book 4 - The Last Duke
Book 5 - Mark of the Marquess
Book 6 - Dread of The Earl
Book 7 - Scar of The Duke
Book 8 - Wounds of A Viscount
Book 9 - Pain of The Marquess
Book 10 - The Secret Life of a Duke
Book 11 - The Secret Pleasures of An Earl
Book 12 - A Knight of Vengeance
∫ ∫ ∫
STANDALONE NOVELLA
The Lady's Masquerade
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Copyright and Disclaimer
Copyright © 2019 by Deborah Wilson - All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are either the product of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this book in any form or by any electronic means without written permission from the author. Recording of this book is strictly prohibited. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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A Knight of Vengeance: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 32
