“She’s better now,” Victor said, picking up the letter opener. “I gave her some legal advice and she has an idea of how to handle things. It’s why I became a solicitor, Bradley. To help beautiful women in their time of need.”
“I’ll have to get some pointers from you about women, sir. You seem to know what to do to please them.” He smiled. “Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?”
“Yes, that would be nice, thank you.” Bradley nodded and left the office, and Victor stared at the letter without reading it. His thoughts were still on Cordelia and he considered what Bradley had said. It had never been said that he didn’t know how to please a woman, but perhaps there was something he could do for her that didn’t involve slowly stripping off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body.
This is not the way to calm down, he admonished himself, and attempted to pay more attention to the letter. A moment later his thoughts were back on Cordelia and he tossed the letter on his desk. He’d never had this much trouble getting a woman off his mind before. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and waited for Bradley to return. No doubt talking to the boy would get his mind off things. What to do about Lady Whittemore, though?
Twelve
Several days later, Cordelia hadn’t been able to get the kiss out of her head. On more than one occasion Arthur or Mrs. Richmond had to say her name twice to get her attention, her mind was wandering so much. Everything made her think about him, even little things that seemed so innocuous.
“Excuse me, Lady Whittemore, could you move your hair aside for a moment?”
“What?” Cordelia looked in the mirror at the girl who was standing behind her, waiting patiently for her to snap herself out of it. “Yes, of course.” She lifted her hair so Patricia could button her dress, and the brush of a few strands over the side of her neck reminded her of Victor’s lips. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck and to her face and fanned herself in an attempt to make it go away.
“Are you hot, ma’am? I could open a window,” Patricia said, looking concerned. Cordelia smiled to put her at ease.
“I am a bit warm, yes,” Cordelia said. “For future reference, Patricia, you really should do my hair before helping me dress.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am!”
“It’s all right, dear, you’re new at this.” It was true. Marian had been called away suddenly after her mother died, leaving Patricia to do the job alone with only the barest hint of training. She seemed terrified of Mrs. Richmond, who had made it clear that she was a lady’s assistant and not a maid, so Cordelia had taken it on herself to guide the girl. “You’ll learn soon enough. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, either. I’ll do my best to answer them.”
“Thank you,” Patricia said, looking relieved as she went to the window and opened it. A cool breeze came through and it did make her feel a bit better. “Shall I do your hair now?”
“That would be nice, thank you.” Cordelia sat at her dressing table. She could hardly blame the girl for the error. If she hadn’t been so busy thinking about Victor, she could have told her ahead of time. Patricia came over and picked up the brush.
“You have such beautiful hair. It’s so long,” Patricia said. “My hair doesn’t want to grow and it seems I’ve tried everything.”
“I’ve got a good hair tonic I take daily,” Cordelia said absently. “They don’t have it in Greenley so I have to have it delivered in from London.”
“That must be expensive,” Patricia said. “I doubt I would be able to afford it.”
“I’ll give you some to try,” Cordelia said. “Arthur orders it by the case.” She stifled a sigh. She supposed Victor was right. If she wanted to have anything like her current life she was going to have to keep up the charade a little longer. She and Arthur hadn’t spoken to one another since her blowup and she couldn’t say she was upset about it. They sat silently across the table from one another at mealtimes, her angry and him awkward, and she retired to her room or the conservatory immediately.
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am.” She began to brush Cordelia’s hair and it felt exquisite. Cordelia had always loved having someone brush her hair. When she and Birdie were small, she used to brush her sister’s hair but Birdie never seemed to like it as much as she did. “I’ve never really done someone else’s hair, only my own, so I apologize if it’s not very good.”
“You’ll learn,” Cordelia said again. “Just do your best.” Patricia continued to brush her hair and nodded at her mistress in the mirror. She seemed to be taking a while and Cordelia assumed it was because she was trying to put off doing her hair, but she didn’t say anything. The brushing felt good and she was able to relax a little.
She couldn’t believe Victor had kissed her, especially not in his office. He’d locked the door but she didn’t get the feeling he’d done it so he could kiss her, more because he wanted to protect her secret. The kiss had just happened, she doubted he’d planned it. Still, it felt good to be wanted and to be kissed with feeling instead of obligation, and when he’d moved down to her neck she’d wanted to melt into him. Not even on her wedding night had Cordelia felt such desire in a kiss and it had ignited something in her. She wanted to see Victor again in private, to see if his lips felt as good a second time and maybe feel his hands on her body. A pleasant shiver went through her when she remembered how close he’d been to her when he unlocked the door and Patricia stopped.
“Are you chilled, ma’am? If it’s too cool I could close the window.”
“No, I’m all right,” Cordelia replied. “A goose just walked over my grave, I guess.” She watched Patricia in the mirror to see if she suspected anything, but the girl only set the brush aside and picked up a few hair pins. If this was how he had kissed her, she could hardly blame Patricia for letting it happen. She smiled as she watched her new maid frown and delicately twist her hair into a careful bun. It was very loose but serviceable and she smiled brightly. “That’s lovely, thank you.”
“Really? I’m afraid it will fall down,” Patricia said uncertainly.
“Then I’ll have you try again. I really believe it will stay in place, though. It’s not as if I’ll be doing anything strenuous.” She leaned forward and opened her jewelry box. Her wedding band was in it, along with her grandmother’s necklace. Cordelia left her ring where it was and took out the necklace.
“My, that’s pretty!” Patricia’s eyes widened. “Are those sapphires?”
“I think they’re called blue topaz,” Cordelia said. “It needs some care, though. I wonder if there’s a place in Greenley I can take it to for repair, or if I need to go to Elston. I know my sister’s wedding set came from a jeweler there.”
“There’s a watchmaker in town that does some jewelry work,” Patricia said. “I don’t know that he would be able to craft something this beautiful but he could certainly clean it up and repair the clasp.” She smiled. “It looks like an antique.”
“It belonged to my grandmother. She used to let me wear it when I was younger.” Cordelia handed it to her. “My sister found it in a trunk where we kept our dress-up clothes. That’s probably how it got in there in the first place.”
“It’s very---“
“Cordelia Whittemore!” Mrs. Richmond’s voice made Cordelia cringe, as it had since she was a child. She occasionally wondered when the old woman would die. She was quite old. She’d been old when Cordelia was a child. “I’ve just been made aware of the state of your dress from yesterday and I am appalled!” She spied the necklace in Patricia’s hand and turned her attention to the girl. “And what exactly are you doing with that?”
“She was about to put it on me,” Cordelia said as calmly as possible. “Weren’t you, dear?”
“O-oh yes,” Patricia said. She seemed to understand what Cordelia wanted and draped it around her neck, then pretended to notice the clasp. “Oh dear, it seems to be broken.”
“That’s a shame,” Cordelia said, taking the necklace from
her and examining it. “I shall just have to take it to town to be repaired, that’s all.”
“Not if you’re going to treat your clothes as poorly as you did yesterday. Mud all over the bottom of your dress! Your hat crushed on top! I’ve come to expect such behavior from Bridget but you’ve never been so careless with your things!” Her admonitions were nothing new and Cordelia did her best to look ashamed of herself while her mind wandered.
If she took the necklace to town herself, there was a chance she would get to see Victor again. She could go to his office and pretend to need his advice, and maybe he would kiss her again. The thought made her blush, something that didn’t escape Mrs. Richmond’s notice.
“Are you even listening to me, Cordelia?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll take more care this time. I really should be the one to take the necklace, though. I can explain exactly what needs to be done to it.” She smiled at Mrs. Richmond, then turned to Patricia. “Could you bring out my black and tan boots and my light green dress?”
“Right away, ma’am.” Obviously glad to be out of Mrs. Richmond’s sight, Patricia hurried into the closet to locate the dress and boots while Cordelia turned and picked up a hand mirror so she could look at the back of her head.
“Marian was far better at doing your hair,” Mrs. Richmond said. “This looks like it will fall down if a breeze blows over it.”
“It will be under my hat when I’m in town,” Cordelia said. “If it falls when I’m home she can always put it back up. There’s no other way for her to learn. For being on her own two days into being trained, she’s doing quite well.”
“If you say so.”
“This dress, ma’am?” Patricia came out of the closet with a sage green dress whose top looked a bit like a man’s suit. It was meant to have a high-necked shirtwaist underneath but there was no way for the girl to know that.
“That’s perfect, Patricia. Just lay it out on the bed and you can help me change into it in a moment.” Patricia did as she asked, then went back to get the boots. Cordelia looked back at Mrs. Richmond. “There, something more appropriate for a trip into town, would you say?”
“It’s not up to me to dress you,” the old woman said. “You and your sister hardly ever listen to me anyhow.” She turned and left the room, and when Patricia returned with the boots and saw that Mrs. Richmond was gone, she visibly relaxed.
“There’s a shirtwaist in the closet that goes with this dress,” Cordelia said. “It’s got a high neck with lace on the collar. If you could fetch that as well it would be perfect.”
“Of course.” She went back into the closet and Cordelia smiled into the mirror. If she was going to possibly see Victor, she wanted to look her best and her green dress was a favorite. Were she a little bolder, she might have worn it without the shirtwaist but she didn’t want him to think she was inviting anything right away. Patricia returned with the shirtwaist and Cordelia stood up.
She was quiet while Patricia unbuttoned the dress she was wearing and helped her step out of it, then took off her shirtwaist to change into the new one. The green dress buttoned in the front so she really didn’t need Patricia’s help to put it on but she had a had a hard time getting the buttons on her boots done up alone so she sat at the dressing table while Patricia did it for her.
“You look lovely, ma’am. Shall I fetch a hat?”
“There’s a green one that matches this in the closet,” Cordelia said. “It has pink roses around the brim.” Patricia nodded and went back into the closet a third time while Cordelia selected a hatpin, remembering how her hat had fallen off the day before. It brought back memories of Victor’s office and she smiled. Yes, she wanted to see him again.
Once she was dressed, she sent Patricia down to get the carriage and driver while she searched for a small box to put her grandmother’s necklace in. She found a velvet one that contained a string of pearls that had been given to her as a wedding gift and took out the pearls, then dropped them into the jewelry box. She tucked the box into her handbag and went to the front door where the driver was waiting for her.
“Ready when you are, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She turned to Patricia. “Please tidy up my clothes while I’m out. See if you can get the dirt out of the dress I wore the other day. If you have trouble, please ask for help. And I appreciate your enthusiasm but you don’t have to dust my room or arrange my sheets again. Leave that to the housemaid.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Patricia went back upstairs while the driver held the door open for her.
“Have you already said goodbye to Lord Whittemore?” His words made Cordelia’s jaw clench and she shook her head, giving him a light smile.
“He’s busy at the moment. I don’t wish to disturb him.” She went down the stairs and got into the carriage with the driver’s help, then settled into her seat as he climbed aboard.
The ride to town was short and her driver helped her out of the carriage in front of the watchmaker’s shop. She went inside and found herself surrounded by clocks of all sorts. They were all ticking in unison and while it was a little unsettling at first she supposed she could see how it would be comforting after a while.
“Lady Whittemore,” a voice said from the door, and Cordelia jumped a little. She hadn’t even heard the door open. When she turned and saw Victor standing there with a clock in his hands, her face turned red immediately. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“My lady’s maid told me this gentleman could repair some jewelry for me,” she said, her eyes moving over his face. “What are you doing here?”
“My clock fell off the wall of my office and one of the hands broke off.” He held up the clock. “I was cursing the thing but now I’m glad it fell when it did. Otherwise I might not have gotten to see you.” He came toward her and her heart sped up. Surely he wouldn’t kiss her right there where the watchmaker could walk in and see them. Every step closer he took to her made her heart speed up, and when he reached her Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been wanting to see you.” Before Cordelia could reply, a small round man came out from behind a curtain over a door that led to a back room.
“Oh, good afternoon,” he said. “So sorry to make you wait, I didn’t know anyone was out here. I really should put that bell back on the door.” He looked at Victor’s clock and nodded. “I can see what the trouble is there, Mr. Pembroke. Let me take that off your hands so you don’t have to carry it around.” He relieved Victor of his clock and set it on a table behind the counter, then turned to Cordelia. “I don’t believe we’ve met, young lady. How may I assist you?”
“I’m Lady Cordelia Whittemore,” she said with a smile. “I was told you might be able to repair a piece of jewelry for me?”
“I’ll be happy to take a look at it,” the watchmaker said. He took out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and put them on. “I’m Jefferson Russell. It’s good to meet you, Lady Whittemore. What type of jewelry is it?”
“It’s a necklace,” Cordelia said, opening her handbag to take out the box. “It belonged to my grandmother. My sister found it a few days ago and the clasp is broken.” She showed him the necklace. “It’s also a bit dirty.”
“That’s quite the necklace,” Victor commented, looking over her shoulder. “It’s probably worth a good deal if those are real stones.”
“I’m almost certain they are,” Cordelia said. “My grandmother didn’t have much paste jewelry, but then again she was letting us play with it.”
“I can clean it up and fix that clasp for you easily,” Mr. Russell said. “I also see a couple of loose prongs on one of the stones and that flower on the end is drooping. I can fix those as well.” He looked up at her. “When were you looking to have this back?”
“Take your time,” Cordelia said. “I don’t have any plans to wear it anytime soon. I just want it cleaned and fixed properly. It means a lot to me as my grandmother is no longer with us.”
“Of course, madam. Shall we say
a week? I can bring it to your estate if it’s too much trouble for you to come down here.” He closed the box and took out a pad of paper. “I’ll write you up a receipt. You can rest assured that it will be safe here with me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Russell. It won’t be necessary for you to bring it to the estate, I’ll be happy to come get it myself. It’s nice to get out for a while.” She turned to Victor as Mr. Russell bent over his receipt book. “Any news to speak of, Mr. Pembroke?”
“Not yet. I’m waiting for a letter from my friend.” He sighed. “It would be so much easier if there was a telephone in this damn town.”
“Here you are, Lady Whittemore,” Mr. Russell said, handing her a slip of paper. “I’ll have it ready for you next Thursday.” Cordelia took the receipt from him and tucked it carefully into her handbag. She started to take out her wallet and he put up a hand. “There’s no need for that right away. You can pay me when the job’s done.”
“Thank you,” Cordelia said, closing her handbag. “I certainly do appreciate that.” She looked at Victor, wishing that the watchmaker would go back into the back room and leave them alone together. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do but she couldn’t very well tell him he’d been on her mind with someone else in the room. “I look forward to hearing from you soon, Mr. Pembroke.”
“Where are you off to next?” Victor opened the door for her and she looked down the street. Whenever she came to town she mostly went to the bookstore. The last time she had come into town she’d gone to Victor’s office and then straight home. Mrs. Richmond always told her that going into town was the job of the servants, so she had most things delivered to her.
“I was going back home, I suppose. Unless you have something more interesting to show me.” The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she realized how they sounded and she blushed as Victor raised an eyebrow at her. “I meant any shops I should know about!”
“I’m sure you’ve already been to the music shop but there’s a gentleman there that would most certainly would be worth your time.”
Only a Rogue Knows Page 10
