A Lord for the Wallflower Widow

by Ann Lethbridge

  She had forgotten all about the shop.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me. It was a lovely surprise.’ In fact, when she thought about it, no one had ever given her such a lovely gift. Avery was not only charming and attractive, he was thoughtful, too.

  * * *

  Avery guided Carrie out into the street. He had thought she would be delighted to see a real-life elephant. He still wasn’t sure if he was completely forgiven, however. It would now be up to her to make the first move. He certainly wasn’t going to force the issue. If she really did not want to have any more to do with him, then so be it. It was her decision. The fact that he enjoyed her company, that he liked her, was neither here nor there.

  They walked in silence for a while.

  ‘I’m sorry—’

  ‘I’m sorry—’

  They both spoke at once and they both laughed.

  ‘You go first,’ he said.

  ‘I am sorry I got angry yesterday. You were right. I should have told you who my family is. It is just that Westram would not like the idea of his sisters as shopkeepers and milliners and I did not want to further antagonise him should he discover it. He would not be pleased were he to learn of our...association either. He is really quite stuffy about things.’

  Avery would be stuffy about such things, too, were Laura to enter into such an arrangement with a man like him. Damn it.

  ‘And that is why you decided we should not see each other again.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I was going to apologise for my harsh words regarding your chosen profession. There is nothing wrong with it at all, I was simply surprised Westram allowed it. And apparently he does not, if you are keeping it a secret from him.’

  ‘In our opinion, Westram has enough troubles without being burdened with the care and feeding of three widows. I must tell you that he was perfectly willing to do so until we married again. But since none of us wishes to ever be wed again, we could hardly impose on him to be responsible for us the rest of our lives. The bonnets, the shop, provide us with a means to be independent.’

  ‘You wish never to marry again? Not ever?’

  ‘Never.’

  He ought to be dancing a jig at the news. Instead, he felt some sort of strange regret. He pushed it aside, focused on what was important. ‘So my concerns of yesterday are completely without foundation.’

  ‘Yes.’

  They turned on to Piccadilly. ‘Then there is no reason why we cannot continue as we agreed.’

  ‘To share in the profits, if business increases.’

  He frowned. ‘And to see where our mutual attraction leads. I can assure you my attraction to you has not lessened these past few days.’

  She flushed scarlet. ‘But—’

  ‘Has your attraction to me dwindled?’ He might as well get to the heart of her hesitation. A lady had a right to change her mind about a fellow. In his experience, they also often said yes when they really meant no, or they pretended one thing was wrong when it was really something else. Yet he did not think Carrie was that sort. Up to now, she had always been brutally honest.

  She made a funny little sound.

  He peeked around the brim of her bonnet to see her face as red as a peony. ‘Carrie?’

  ‘No,’ she said. And walked faster. ‘Much as I do not want to, I still find you attractive.’

  He forced himself not to laugh. ‘Well, I will take that as a compliment.’

  She snorted.

  At that he laughed out loud.

  She rounded on him. ‘What is so funny.’

  He touched the tip of her nose with a finger. ‘You are, my sweet. And I adore you for making me laugh.’

  A smile touched her lips. ‘You are impossible. You know that.’

  ‘I am. But in the meantime, all is forgiven and we will continue where we left off.’

  ‘How can I say no? Clearly, a man who is able to conjure up an elephant in the middle of London is worth a second chance.’

  He had the feeling there would not be a third. For a brief moment, he wished he had not made a bargain with her to do with profits and money, but then he remembered Laura’s anxiety about next month’s rent and he shrugged off the sentimental notion. But he did hope the attraction between them would blossom and they could find something more than simple financial gain.

  And that was a shock.

  But why not? She did not want to marry any more than he did. He believed she had spoken the truth on that matter, she had been so vehement. So why should they not enjoy each other to the full?

  He delivered her to her back door and kissed her hand before knocking. ‘Drive out with me tomorrow, in Hyde Park?’

  She looked anxious. ‘Are you sure that is a good idea?’

  ‘If we are to promote your wares to the ton, it is.’

  She swallowed. ‘You really are wishing to continue with our arrangement?’

  ‘I am.’ Her obvious reticence puzzled him. After all, even if he had changed the terms somewhat, this had been her idea. Unless... ‘Are you saying you are ashamed to be seen with me?’ The idea gave him a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  She looked horrified and he felt a sudden surge of relief. ‘Of course not.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I worry that potential customers might not approve of my driving out with you, me being a shopkeeper.’

  He frowned. ‘You are Westram’s sister-in-law.’

  She shook her head. ‘I have been in mourning most of the time since I married until just before opening the shop. My father died within days of the wedding and then my husband... No one really knows me as anything but a milliner. Even though they must all know the story of my husband’s death, I doubt anyone would associate a mere milliner with the Earl of Westram and he is also currently out of town, so we will not meet him either.’

  He had a feeling there were things she was not telling him, but he did believe she thought members of the ton would look down on her and he didn’t like it. ‘Well then, they need to know you are the best milliner in town and to do that we need to flaunt a few of those hats of yours.’

  She shook her head at him, but one of her rare smiles graced her lips. ‘Well, since it seems you will not take no for an answer, I will drive with you in the Park tomorrow.

  He grinned. ‘Wonderful. I will come for you at four.’ He banged on the door.

  The porter opened it and once Avery saw she was safely inside, he strolled off. To his surprise he realised he was whistling.

  What was he thinking? He stopped at the end of the alley and glanced back. Great heavens, was he actually looking forward to showing her off to the ton? Hmm. It might be a little of that, but surely it was more about winning. It was not in his nature to simply give up on something he wanted.

  Though he had given up on his father, had he not?

  That was different. It was his father who had given up on him. And when the old man heard Avery was squiring a shopkeeper around town, he hoped it would give the old curmudgeon a few sleepless nights.

  He glanced at his watch. It was early yet. Time enough to visit with Laura and her husband, before going to the new hell that had opened in St James’s. The stakes were said to be the highest in London.

  Chapter Seven

  Ensconced beside the dashing Lord Avery and tooling through the streets of Mayfair, Carrie felt as if she looked down upon the world. It was the very first time she had been driven by a gentleman in Hyde Park and it felt wonderful. She felt wonderful. Feminine and somehow cherished.

  Of course, she knew it was only his excellent manners that made her feel that way. Theirs was for the most part a business arrangement, after all, but he played his part to perfection and she was determined not to put him to shame. Hopefully the carriage gown she had chosen to wear today was suitable for the occasion.

&nbs
p; He grinned at her. ‘You look lovely.’

  Good heavens, could the man read her mind, or was the fact that she had butterflies dancing in her stomach showing on her face? ‘Thank you.’ She hoped she sounded confident, instead of grateful for every crumb of kindness sent her way.

  ‘That bonnet should draw a few eyes,’ he said approvingly.

  Oh, he was talking about their plan, not actually complimenting her looks. ‘It is one of Petra’s best efforts yet, it is called a chapeau à la Salamanca.’

  ‘Clever, naming it after a battle and the military style is all the rage right now. It suits you.’

  They turned through the gates into the park. Carrie was immediately struck by the vast numbers of people jostling for position. Not only were members of the ton in their elegant equipages vying for attention, but there were hawkers selling everything from roasted chestnuts to violets. She tried not to stare wide-eyed like some country bumpkin.

  ‘Is this your first foray into the fashionable hour?’ Avery asked, amusement in his voice.

  Hmmm. Clearly, she had failed to look suitably bored. ‘It is.’ Now she sounded rather grim, as if he had asked her if it was the first time she had been tortured.

  There had been a number of firsts coming her way ever since she’d met Lord Avery. Her first assignation at a tea house. Her first glimpse of India through the eyes of someone who had been there. Her first look at an elephant and now her very first drive in Hyde Park.

  Then there was also the first she was anticipating with a mix of excitement and terror. Although that one was not yet a certainty. Her mouth dried at the thought of making love with Avery. She really wasn’t sure she would be able to drum up the courage to go through with it, either, should the opportunity appear on her horizon.

  A carriage drew up beside them going in the opposite direction.

  Mrs Baxter-Smythe and a young girl. ‘Why, how delightful, Lord Avery.’ She glanced at Carrie and her eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. ‘Mrs Greystoke,’ she finally managed to say. ‘Imagine meeting you.’

  Carrie imagined hundreds of eyes suddenly focused on her sitting beside Lord Avery. A man known for libertine tendencies with other men’s wives.

  Lord Avery leaned forward and gave the girl beside Mrs Baxter-Smythe an easy smile. He held out a hand. ‘I don’t believe we have met. May I say how delightful you look in that hat.’

  It was one of the ones the Mrs Baxter-Smythe had purchased in Carrie’s shop. How clever of him to notice.

  The girl blushed and looked adorably confused.

  Mrs Baxter-Smyth looked horrified. ‘Sukie, this is Lord Avery. Belmane’s younger son. And his companion is Mrs Greystoke. Alfred, drive on!’ The coach lurched forward.

  ‘How...rude,’ Carrie said looking back over her shoulder at the stiff-backed Mrs Baxter-Smythe, who was clearly lecturing her daughter.

  Lord Avery chuckled softly. ‘It is well known that I have no intention of taking a wife. Therefore, Sukie’s mama is being suitably protective of a daughter barely out of the schoolroom.’

  ‘You did that on purpose,’ Carrie said and she could not prevent herself from smiling at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. ‘Poor girl. She’ll be dreaming of you when she goes to bed tonight.’

  ‘And her mama will remember that I liked the hat.’ He gave her a quizzical look. ‘Will you be dreaming of me, I wonder?’ he asked with a teasing note in his voice.

  ‘Certainly not.’ Heat rushed to the roots of her hair. She hadn’t meant to sound so brusque, but his question had touch her on the raw. She had been seeing his face in her dreams since the first day they met.

  He laughed, sounding not at all put out, and manoeuvred around a couple of carriages whose owners had stopped to chat. ‘I shall dream about you.’

  ‘What a bouncer,’ she scoffed.

  He cocked an eyebrow. ‘My dear Mrs Greystoke, you clearly underestimate your allure to the poor male of the species. Look at the way that fellow is staring at you.’

  Indeed, another gentleman walking along the grass beside the carriage path was eyeing her through his quizzing glass. His female companion elbowed him in the ribs.

  ‘I hope,’ she said, a little more stiffly than she had intended, ‘that he was admiring my hat.’

  ‘I doubt it. Most gentlemen do not notice such things except in the most general of ways. They notice the lovely face beneath the brim. The slender neck supporting the confection. The luxurious curls framing the enchanting expression.’

  The heat in her face said she must be positively scarlet at such fulsome compliments. ‘I assume you are talking about the young lady by his side,’ she said repressively.

  ‘He wasn’t looking at that young lady through his quizzing glass.’

  ‘Foolish man,’ she muttered.

  ‘Do you mean him, or me?’

  ‘You. You dolt.’

  He laughed out loud, a deep, rich, happy sound that sent the butterflies in her stomach racing along her veins to dance in the tips of her fingers. How did he make her feel so utterly weak at the knees with a laugh? It wasn’t right.

  They reached the end of the Row and he expertly turned the carriage around without coming afoul of any of the many vehicles around them making the same difficult turn. Others weren’t so fortunate. A landau and a barouche had their wheels locked, much to the amusement of a couple of children.

  As they started back down the Row, they came face to face with the lady and gentlemen whom they had seen at the tea shop on Hampstead Heath.

  The lady recognised them instantly and smiled and waved before leaning over to point them out to her escort.

  Without thinking, Carrie waved back.

  ‘Who the devil is that?’ Avery asked.

  ‘It is the couple we saw out at Hampstead. Surely you recognise them.’

  ‘I didn’t look that closely. I was too busy looking at you.’

  Carrie’s mouth dropped open.

  ‘I was,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘You, sir, are a terrible flirt.’

  The admonishment seemed to cheer him. ‘That I am.’

  He drew up beside a carriage containing three very pretty young ladies, all blonde and all dressed in the height of fashion, with a woman who was either their companion or their mother.

  ‘Mrs Greystoke, meet Miss Gideon and her sisters Lydia and Evelyn.’ Miss Gideon stared intently at Carrie and she felt prickles dart down her back the way she always did when other daintier women took in her size. ‘What a beautiful bonnet,’ the girl exclaimed. ‘Where did you buy it?’

  Oh. The merchant in Carrie bustled to the fore. ‘From a shop on Cork Street, First Stare Millinery.’

  ‘It is stunning,’ one of the other girls said. She frowned. ‘Mrs Luttrell mentioned that shop to Mama, I believe.’

  The chaperon looked up. ‘She did, Miss Evelyn. A day or so ago.’

  ‘Mother thought the address a little out of the way,’ the oldest girl said. ‘I think it would be worth it, if it sells hats like that one.’

  Her own headgear was not nearly as nice as the one Carrie wore. ‘We have lots of styles suitable for all events and weather,’ she said and could not keep the pride from her voice.

  Avery bowed. ‘Excuse us, ladies, we are causing a traffic jam.’ He set his horses in motion.

  Carrie bit her lip. ‘Did I press too hard? Do you think they will come to the shop?’

  ‘Of course, they will. Everyone in London knows that my ladies wear only the most elegant of creations.’

  ‘Then this drive has been worth it,’ she said, relaxing.

  He made a sound like a cross between a laugh and a groan. ‘Then let us go home.’ He turned on to Park Lane and set off at a spanking trot. ‘I do hope you gained some personal pleasure from our drive,’ he sa
id, his eyes twinkling as he glanced her way. ‘I know I did.’

  Oh, yes, the man was a terrible flirt. And a man who did not take anything or anyone very seriously.

  A good thing, surely. She certainly did not want to take him too seriously either. Once their time was up, they would likely never meet again. A pang squeezed her heart. A sense of loss. Apparently, she was becoming attached to him. That really would not do.

  ‘I was wondering if you would like to come with me to the theatre tomorrow night?’ he said. ‘A chance to wear another of your elegant hats.’

  The theatre. Another first. Longing filled Carrie, but obligation made her shake her head. ‘I go home tomorrow afternoon.’

  Something inside her warmed when he looked disappointed. Something she tried to douse with cold water and cold logic.

  * * *

  Laura looked tired Avery thought as she greeted him with a hug. ‘Where is that disgraceful husband of yours?’ he asked cheerfully, but perhaps a little too pointedly. It was gone nine at night.

  ‘Working. As usual.’ She sighed. ‘Lannie, bring tea to the parlour, would you?’

  The elderly maid took his coat and hat and disappeared into the back of the house. A very tiny house in Golders Green.

  He handed over his previous night’s winnings.

  ‘You shouldn’t,’ Laura said, looking torn. ‘John doesn’t like it.’

  He liked his brother-in-law, mostly, but John did not like him passing along his winnings at the tables. The man found it hard to accept that he was not yet providing a good enough income to support a wife and child.

  ‘Don’t tell him, then.’

  Laura shook her head. ‘We do not keep secrets from each other.’

  They had married for love. Their father, his Dukeliness, had not approved the match, but Laura and John had gone ahead anyway. Once John built his practice up now that he had passed the bar, his income would increase substantially. Until then Avery would continue to do what he could for his sister and to hell with what John thought.

  ‘I promise you, I won this honestly and no one was left destitute upon the parish.’