“Thank you,” Andrew said amiably. Flora noted that he had no problem looking directly at Charlie and Matthew, but he wouldn’t look at her without reason. “Good day.”
Flora watched him leave, feeling very strange about the entire encounter. Charlie squinted at the door and frowned while Matthew yawned and helped himself to the alcoholic tea that still sat largely untouched before them.
“Flora,” Charlie began, taking a teacake. “What do you believe is on young Andy’s mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean to say that he’s a rather nervous man who I believe couldn’t give one fig about the opera.” Charlie leaned in closer. “But I do think he’s rather interested in you.”
Flora balked, her cheeks flaming. “Oh, no, he’s just being polite.”
Charlie raised a brow before turning to his companion. “Matthew, what do you think of all this?”
Matthew looked up from his cup. “If you will both pardon my forwardness on the matter, I believe he has taken an interest in Miss MacLeod.”
She stood, motioning for Charlie to follow. “May I speak with you a moment in the hall?”
Charlie shoved the rest of his cake into his mouth and followed her into the deserted corridor. “You do know that Matthew won’t betray your secrets. After all, he and I share more than a few.”
“I could care less what happens in your bedchambers at present. I think we need to speak about Andrew Philips.”
“What about him?”
“Are you convinced he’s fond of me?”
“Exceedingly so. Take his manner of speech. Before Matthew and I, he’s reserved but he’s still capable to giving a commanding presence. However, with you, he’s all thumbs and nerves and flitting about like a poor little kitten who’s lost his way.”
“You know, I’ve noticed a bit of the same.” Flora felt oddly validated that she hadn’t just imagined his tameness around her.
“Well, what are you going to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
He rolled his eyes. “Must I spell everything out?”
“Apparently.”
“He’s taken a shine to you. I think he might be under the impression that you could make a fine love interest.”
Flora shook her head madly. “Goodness, no!”
“No need to be so brash about it.” Charlie laughed. “He’s rather handsome—clear skin, broad of shoulder, and a full head of hair that rivals only my own in terms of body and favorable hue.”
“It’s not his looks that worry me.”
The grin vanished from Charlie’s round face. “What is it?”
Flora looked around, making sure they were very alone. “It’s just…everything that’s happened is just so fresh.”
“Well, the best way to get over a man is to get under a new one…or behind one, whatever your preference is in the matter.”
Flora grimaced. “That’s not really what I had in mind. I mean to say that I’m not even sure…when Jasper and I…he…” Flora moaned, unable to find the words she needed to say.
“You fear you could be with child,” he stated gently.
Flora nodded.
He threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her arm a little squeeze. “There’s no use worrying over something that may never come to be. I know you’re frightened, but there’s no need to punish yourself more than you already have.”
“Perhaps I should tell him I can’t come to the opera?”
“Why would you do a silly thing like that?”
“I wouldn’t want to lead him on, if things could never…if I could not…” Flora slumped against him. “Oh, what on earth am I to do?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what you are to do. You’re going to wear a lovely gown, your best jewels, and go to the opera with Andy and be your utterly charming self. If I recall, you were quite the society darling last time you took over London.”
A smile coaxed itself from Flora’s lips.
“There it is! Come out of this darkness and have a nip of brandy with Matthew and I. No more talk of that stupid Scottish oaf, nor your worries.”
“Easier said than done,” muttered Flora. But she followed Charlie back into the drawing room anyway, eager to forget her troubles.
Chapter Eight
“Am I making a mistake in going?” Flora asked Charlie as a maid laced up her corset.
“Not at all,” he replied, looking her over before addressing the maid. He had brought the girl from his own kitchens to the MacLeod’s household in lieu of Flora being without any servants. “Tighter, girl. If Flora can breathe, then it’s no good.”
Flora held her breath as she was cinched even tauter, pressing the stays into her ribs. “Goodness, I can’t breathe now.”
“That’s the point.” He dug a bit more through her box of jewels and picked up an opal necklace and matching earrings. “Think of how glorious your bust will look in your canary silks.”
“This is an awful lot of trouble to go through for just Andrew Philips.” Flora shifted a bit, trying to acclimate her lungs to the shallow breaths she was being forced to take.
“You need some good fun and what safer way to test the waters than with innocent, safe, little Andy?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Flora admitted as the borrowed maid began helping her into her deep yellow gown.
Charlie passed her the fiery opals and watched as she put them on. “You know, I’ve been doing a bit of research lately—”
“If you’re about to tell me about some midnight rendezvous, please don’t.”
“Oh, it’s nothing to with my midnight rendezvous and everything to do with your potential ones.”
Flora’s eyes flitted to the maid, who didn’t look very surprised by their conversation. “What do you mean?”
“I went down to the club today and asked around about Andy. We don’t really know him after all.”
“Oh? And what did you find out?” Flora powdered her nose gently as the maid started to rapidly twist her hair atop her head. She tried to take a deep breath, but her chest felt very constricted. It meant for a night of very shallow breathing.
“A whole lot of nothing interesting,” he moaned, flopping into an armchair. “He’s so terribly…average. He has a sizeable fortune, but doesn’t gamble nor overspend. He’s three and twenty years of age, yet has never taken a mistress so far as anyone knows. He’s the member of several societies in London, but always follows the rules.”
“Is that so bad? I do believe I could do with some average.”
“Well, it’s rather boring. You see, he was born into moneyed parents, nothing as grand as you or I, but comfortable. They own some land and gave him a good education. He has a younger brother in the Queen’s army in India, but hasn’t served, himself. He stands to take over his uncle’s practice in the next year or two, which does rather well.”
“All good things.”
Charlie took out his flask from his breast pocket. “Too good.”
A knock on the door jarred them both and Flora called out, “Enter!”
The housekeeper Mrs. Neely entered. “Mister Philips is here to collect ye, Miss.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Neely.” Flora stood and crossed the room to her full-length mirror. “Please ready my sable furs.”
“Will this lass be goin’ with ye?” Mrs. Neely gestured to the borrowed maid.
Flora fluffed out her skirts as she studied herself, noting that Charlie had been correct in his assumption of her bosom. “No, I will be attending the opera without a chaperone this evening.”
Mrs. Neely pursed her lips, looking rather unhappy about Flora leaving with a strange man, but apparently knew better than to press the matter. She disappeared out of the room.
“Old bat looks like she’s swallowed a lemon,” Charlie muttered.
“Do I look all right?” Flora asked, adjusting the large opal at her throat.
“A vision, darling. Andy won’t be able to keep his h
ands off you.”
Flora watched as her reflection pinked and she brought her gloved hand to her chest, covering her cleavage. “I don’t know if I want that.”
“Don’t worry, it’s merely a turn of phrase. I doubt Andy would have the strength to look at you, let along lay a finger on you. Poor chap might burst into flames at the first thought.”
Flora giggled a bit and began toward the door. “Be nice, Charles.”
“I’m always nice.”
Once Flora stepped to the top of the stairs, she could see Andrew waiting below, wearing a black overcoat and clutching a top hat in his fist. She could see he had even fixed his hair so it sat in a perfect deep auburn wave. His brown eyes widened when he saw Flora and he didn’t look away until she had made it to the landing below.
“G-good evening, Miss MacLeod,” Andrew stammered, his face white.
“Good evening.” She allowed Mrs. Neely to help her into fur stole. “I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?”
“No, not at all,” Andrew assured her, putting his hat back on. “Please, my carriage is waiting outside.”
“Have fun, you two,” Charlie cooed from the steps.
Andrew nodded up at him and allowed Flora to step first into the dark night. She saw he had a rather nice carriage with an agreeably matched pair of dappled greys. He held out his hand and helped her up into the seat. Once he had taken his place across from her, they began their journey to the opera house in awkward silence.
“So…” Flora wracked her brain for something say, but came up empty. The quiet was rather unsettling. Not to say she was afraid of Andrew, but she wished she knew how to interact with him.
“Miss MacLeod, you look lovely this evening.”
Flora allowed herself to relax, as much as she could despite her corset. “Thank you very much. And, please, I’ve told you before that such formalities are not needed. Call me Flora.”
“Well…Flora,” he said quietly as he looked out the small window to his left. “Tell me, do you like the opera?”
“Truth be told, I’ve never been.”
“Then I hope you enjoy yourself this evening. The show should be quite good.”
“Do you go very often?”
“To the opera? No I can’t say that I do.”
Flora tried taking a deep breath, but it was stifled in her chest. Feeling constricted, she shimmied a bit in her bodice, trying to loosen the tightness that crushed her. But she couldn’t find a position in which to breathe more comfortably.
“Are you cold?” Andrew asked her gently, his face a mask of concern.
She waved a hand and tried to smile. “Oh, I’m fine.”
By the time they reached the opera house, Flora found it exceedingly painful to gasp more than the most meager of pants of air. Damning the corsets and those who made them to hell, Flora whipped out her fan and began flapping it wildly, trying to inhale the cool breeze as they exited the carriage and joined the throngs of society.
She saw several familiar faces, and even noticed Andrew tipping his hat at a few, but couldn’t bring herself to speak to any of them. The precious air it would take seemed too much. Instead, she gripped Andrew’s arm for dear life and allowed him to escort her through the crowds and into their private box.
“Lovely seats,” she whispered as she lowered herself into her chair and attempted to get comfortable. But it was easier said than done.
“Are you sure you’re quite well?” Andrew leaned in toward her as the opera house dimmed and the orchestra tuned their instruments.
A butler passed her a glass of something, but she feared she couldn’t even take a sip, for there was no room in her stomach. “Very!” Flora quipped, fluttering her fan and attempting a smile. “I’m just very excited.”
Andrew grinned a bit, showing off a pair of perfectly cut dimples. Flora didn’t recall seeing them before and they made his clean features look a bit less polished, more rugged, although not in a terrible way. It gave her something to focus on other than the squeezing pressure assaulting her torso. So she studied his smooth locks of chestnut hair and the way he spun the signet upon his finger. Flora also noted that his eyes glanced her way at each crescendo, as if waiting for her to respond.
But by the time the opera was midway through, Flora could take the strain of her stays no longer. “Andrew,” she hissed at the singer slowed to a low tune. “Is there no intermission?’
“I don’t believe so,” he replied in a hush. “Would you care for a fresh drink?”
Flora bit her lip. “No, no, I’m fine.”
Andrew turned in his seat, looking at her in a very serious manner. “Flora, please tell me what is bothering you. Lying does you no good.”
She huffed in exasperation, ashamed for what she was about to say aloud. “It’s my…my corset.”
“Your…” Andrew’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then widened. “Oh…oh!”
“I must go to the powder room and have one of the maids remedy the situation.” She rose from her seat, hurrying to run from the mortifying position she found herself in. All she wanted was to watch a nice opera with a nice man and there she was, feeling as if she would faint. “Do excuse me.”
“Wait, I’ll escort you.” Andrew followed her from the box and down the stairs.
“Please, go enjoy the show,” Flora pleaded outside the ladies dressing room. “I won’t be but a moment.”
“I’ll wait here,” he assured her.
Flora rushed into the power room, excited for someone to finally loosen her stays. But the room was empty and no one came to assist when she called out. She felt the hot tears of embarrassment prick her eyelids. It was only her first night out trying to forget, and she was on the verge of collapse because Charlie ordered her blasted corset be strung too tight.
Andrew was still smiling when Flora practically dragged herself from the dressing room. She felt ridiculously lightheaded and wanted nothing more than to cut the laces of her gown then and there.
“Everything well?” Andrew questioned, noting her flushed face.
“Not quite.”
“What happened?”
“There wasn’t anyone there,” she explained and she struggled to catch her breath.
Andrew went to her side and placed a firm arm around her waist. “Should we leave? I’ll call for the carriage.”
The room began to spin and Flora leaned into him. “I need you…I need you to help me.”
His eyes were wide in alarm. “Tell me, what can I do?”
“Loosen my corset,” she rasped. “I can’t do it on my own and there’s no one else.”
“Oh…all right,” he mumbled, his white face glowing a vibrant shade of red.
Flora pulled him into the ladies’ dressing room and turned her back to him. “Hurry, please.”
She felt his shaking fingers make quick work of the buttons along her back then felt a rush of breath enter her lungs as her stays were released. She stood there a moment, swallowing in air and relishing the feeling of having full mobility of her torso.
“Is that…was that…are you…well?”
Flora smiled in relief then felt a vivid splash of awareness that she had instructed a perfect stranger to practically undress her. So much for getting back on her social feet. “Andrew, would you be so kind as to fasten my gown, please? Only loosely, this time.”
“Certainly.”
Once she was fastened into her dress, with more room to breathe, she slowly turned to face him. “I’m so terribly sorry about that. I’m so very embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” he told her, his eyes skittering about the room. “Should we retire for the evening or go back to our seats?”
Flora’s mind went to her loosened stays, but she had to admit that she felt rather bruised about the middle. “Would you be cross if we were to leave?”
“Hardly,” he replied, his warm gaze sincere. “I’ll call for my carriage and return you home at once.”
“Lovely,”
Flora replied stiffly. As soon as he had left the room, a sick burst of laughter burst from her lips. It was a mixture of incredulous tears of shame and hilarious giggles that tore her sides. The sheer insanity of the moments before had confused her emotions beyond all sense. She struggled to shove the conflicting sensations back inside, but found it almost impossible. Only when she heard a light knock on the door did she stop.
Flora dabbed at her eyes and smoothed her hair before turning the knob.
“I’ve fetched our coats.” Andrew helped her into her stole before donning his own jacket and hat. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I am many things at present, but I suppose ‘all right’ is one of them.” Flora ruffled her furs a bit, hoping to hide some of the blush in her cheeks.
Andrew helped her up the steps to the carriage and gave her what she supposed was meant to be a reassuring smile. “Are you sure you aren’t in need of a doctor?”
“Goodness, no.” She trained her eyes out the carriage window. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for making you miss the opera.”
“Please, don’t think of it. There will be many more operas.”
“It just seems that, as of late, you’ve had to assist me in far too many embarrassing situations.”
“Only two,” he pointed out in a lighthearted manner that coaxed a smile from Flora’s lips.
“And that is two too many, in my opinion.”
“Don’t worry, you’re perfectly charming when you’re exceedingly inebriated or suffering from lack of oxygen.”
“You’re perfectly horrid.”
“No, I’m perfectly right.” He grinned in such a way that a single dimple was seen, cut deep into his cheek. Even in the scant light from the passing lampposts, it was clear he thought the entire exchange was hilarious. As his shoulders shook with silent laughter, a single lock of dark auburn hair fell from it’s perfectly pressed coif.
Flora felt a quick flash of something strange hit her belly as she fought the urge to reach out and tuck it back into place. It was the same feeling she got when Jasper had gently touched her in the halls of the MacLeod keep, but still different. It was almost as if she thought she should feel ashamed for any feelings of attraction toward Andrew, no matter how fleeting.
His Tarnished Ruby Page 8
