Jack Valentine (Haberdashers Tales Book 4)

by Sue London

  On the other hand, she was still tempted to see him. Alone.

  ***

  Artie had spent the last three days cleaning. Fortunately, he had more friends among the Graham family servants than he realized. Either that, or some of them wished to curry favor with his mother. He was sure he would have been at loose ends to know how to clean a flue, or even that it was a thing that required cleaning, but a number of maids and footmen had come and gone, each helping with a particular task or bit of advice. The entire thing had been a long lesson in exactly how much he didn't know in embarking on his new life. He had preached at Teddy about practicalities when he obviously was as much a babe in the woods. Now he would spend his first night here, alone. Hopefully he wouldn't let the fire die down so completely that he had to start it again.

  He had been able to find old bedding in his parent's attic that was better than anything he could afford to purchase, especially as he couldn't really afford to purchase anything. An old chest of drawers, desk, and chamber pots also made their way to his new flat without his asking for them. Provided that he could keep himself warm and fed, he had a number of creature comforts. Among the furniture in the flat had been an old sofa. When they uncovered it he had been a bit dismayed at its dilapidated state. But beggars, as they said, couldn't be choosers. It was comfortable enough if one sat in the proper spots. He sat on it now and looked around the mostly empty parlor. He was aching, lonely, but also oddly happy. This was his domain. He didn't have to look at everything around him and think that it would one day be his brother's. He didn't have to take drinks here before supper was served. Couldn't, in fact, as he had no liquors. He didn't have to be at the beck and call of his mother's whims. Not that he'd ever particularly resented her but, well, it was freeing to know that a footman wouldn't arrive to interrupt him in whatever he was doing because his mother needed something. That was precisely it. He was free. His mother, with this gift, had granted his freedom. It was well worth the loss of his allowance to have that. Even if he wasn't precisely sure how he would feed his new wife. His soon-to-be new wife.

  He sat back and spread his arms over the back of the sofa. If he relished his freedom, that was nothing compared to his anticipation of having his wife with him. To her point, if they were to marry and it was for eternity, then she was already his wife. He wished everyone subscribed to that theory. But she wasn't here, and he was exhausted, so it was time to find out if that bedding was as warm and comfortable as he hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Teddy hopped from foot to foot to keep warm as she knocked again. Of all the incredibly stupid things she'd ever done, this undoubtedly topped the list. She blew into her gloved hands, as though the heat would reach her fingers. After her third loud round of knocking she finally heard a creak inside the building. Please let that be Artie coming down the steps. If she had to walk back home tonight they would find her frozen on the roadside in the morning. She saw a dark figure through the glass. Please, oh please let that be Artie. Finally she could see his face in the moonlight and he frowned at her, fumbling out his keys to unlock the door.

  "Teddy?" He drew her inside and locked the door again.

  "It's c-c-colder than I thought," she said, teeth chattering. The temperature in the shop wasn't much better than outside.

  He took her hand. "Come upstairs."

  The air upstairs was slightly warmer. He set to putting a log on the fire in the sitting room. Watching him fumble it, as she had expected, she said, "Oh, let me." The last thing she wanted was to smother the fire already there. She positioned the logs and fanned the flames up until the new wood caught.

  Artie still knelt next to the hearth. "You've done this before, I see."

  "A few times," she agreed.

  He stood again, so she did as well. Rather than the lover's welcome she expected, he was frowning at her. "Why on earth did you come here? And alone, in the middle of the night, no less."

  The letter hadn't been an invitation. She held her tongue as they already demonstrated a terrible tendency to quarrel.

  "Dammit, Teddy, answer me."

  She raised her brows and turned to warm her hands at the newly revived fire. "I won't answer you until you can be pleasant about it. You used to be good at that, Artie. Being pleasant."

  He sighed and ran his hands though his hair, but his tone when he spoke again was as pleasant as a summer day. "Good evening, Miss Minett. What brings you to Aylsham?"

  She tipped her head to look at him. His expression was neutral, almost genial. The tone, the expression, were classic Artie. Or at least Artie at a social call or assembly. Had it always been false? He had exemplified a certain sort of upper class man. Was that not who he really was at all?

  "I wished to see you," she said. "My mistake."

  "How long do I have to be pleasant?"

  She looked back to the fire. "Once I've warmed myself I'll leave."

  "For the love of God! You shouldn't have walked here, and I'm sure as hell not going to let you walk back!"

  She cringed at his tone and he gave another exasperated sigh.

  "Do your parents have any idea where you are?"

  "Of course not. That's the point."

  He stalked away, calling back. "You'll be the death of me, Teddy Minett!"

  ***

  Artie was gathering up his clothing for the undoubtedly chilly ride to the Minett's home, thinking how foolish Teddy had been, when he stopped himself. Her actions were unbelievably foolish, but her intentions were quite sweet. Hell, they were in line with his own desires. Would he have the determination, the fortitude, to do what she had just done? And now here she was, frozen through, and he wasn't even warming her as he had when she arrived at his house those long weeks ago. He stepped back into the drawing room.

  "I'm sorry, Teddy. It's just... it scares me when you do foolish things."

  She raised her brows at him again. "Foolish?" He obviously needed to pay attention to those brows. She went back to warming her hands. "You call me foolish when you fritter your funds for who knows how long before we'll be able to marry."

  That barb hit home. "What do you mean fritter?"

  She shrugged. "Wood isn't free. Food isn't free. Not here, not like it would be for you at home. I assumed you move here because you wanted me to come to you."

  How could he explain to her the importance of his freedom? Now that he'd tasted it, he couldn't imagine another evening of being stifled under his father's rule. "When in doubt, Teddy, always assume that I do not want you to do something foolish."

  "How am I to be able to distinguish the foolish from the wise? They look very much alike depending upon your perspective."

  "Well," he said, folding his arms over his chest, "what do you think the wisest thing to do tonight would have been?"

  She finally turned to him again. "You want me to say that it would have been staying snug in my bed, but I'm not sure that's correct. As much as I hate argument, and especially arguing with you, I much prefer being here rather than lying awake wondering how you are."

  "Teddy." She certainly had a way to undo him. He had wondered about her before falling asleep. When he woke to knocking, his first thought had been of her. But then when he saw her all he could think was how she could have been hurt, set upon by thieves. How any number of things could have befallen her on the road.

  "I'm sorry, Arthur. Apparently my love is a great deal more troublesome for you than you expected." She pulled her gloves back on. "I'm ready to go now, and be put back on whatever shelf is most convenient for you."

  Bloody hell. She said she didn't like arguing with him, but she had deadly claws and loved to scratch. If he didn't watch himself they would set to screaming at each other soon. Where was his sweet, biddable Teddy? He thought he knew what she wanted, though. He wanted it himself.

  "It's not convenient for me at all, none of it." His voice was rough with longing. "Where I want you is in our bed, warm and willing."

  She smi
led shyly, the seductive little witch. "I can't promise warm."

  He took a step closer to her. "I can warm you better than any fire."

  "I know you can."

  When he pulled her close for a kiss she hooked a leg over his. Holding her bottom, he lifted her until she wrapped her legs around him. Then he took her to their bed and made good on his promise to warm her better than the fire.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Teddy awoke delightfully sore between her legs again. She was, she supposed, completely wanton. Arthur had made love to her twice last night before bundling her onto his horse and taking her home. They had left the horse some distance from the house so that no one would hear them approaching, but he insisted on walking all the way to the house with her. Then he kissed her one last time before she slipped inside. Not a sweet kiss, but the sort that would have led to more if they hadn't been fully clothed and freezing outside her parent's house.

  She turned over and sighed. Why did they have to argue so much? It made her unhappy. Yes, she knew it was foolish to walk all the way into town, he didn't have to tell her that. But it was also... necessary. He was necessary to her. If only he would accept it. If only the world would support their union, rather than causing issues. She tossed onto her other side again. Waiting for His Grace. Hmph!

  Pellinore jumped on the bed and turned around twice before settling onto the coverlet. She pet his long gray fur thinking she still wasn't quite sure what to do about him. Her heart told her that as much as she wanted to keep him with her, he wouldn't do well in the city. She couldn't stand the thought of him being hurt. But she also grieved for how lonely he would be here without her. He was used to sleeping with her every night and having her feed him tidbits she saved from the table. Her parents certainly tolerated Pellinore well enough, but she couldn't imagine them spoiling the cat as she had done. How often would she come for visits? It was a long walk, even a long ride, and she and Artie had no carriage. She sighed. Everything, it seemed, would come at some sacrifice.

  She sat up. What could she do today that would make their married lives better?

  ***

  Artie should feel exhausted, having returned to the shop near dawn, but he found himself invigorated instead. He had his freedom and a woman who, apparently, couldn't stay away from him. He allowed himself a foolish grin. He shouldn't take such liberties with her, shouldn't encourage her to delight in them. But God's blood! She was everything a man could want in his bed.

  Just now he was fixing damaged edges on the tables in the shop. Conveniently, that was one thing he could easily do. Filling the shop with stock still sounded daunting, however. A knock sounded at the door. For a moment he thought of Teddy, but popping up to look over the table he worked on he saw a dark and decidedly masculine shape rather than her petite, colorful, feminine one. He opened the door to find Reeves.

  "A letter from Lady Graham."

  The butler looked over Artie's shoulder with some curiosity, so Artie held the door open wide. "Would you care to look around?"

  "Don't mind if I do," the butler said, strolling in. Reeves didn't tend to stroll as a rule, so Artie was intrigued. First, however, he should read his mother's letter.

  "Your uncle can be here in a fortnight," Reeves said mildly before Artie had the letter fully open.

  "You read it?"

  "She told me when she wrote it. There may be other things in the letter, but I assumed that was the part you cared to hear about." Reeves seemed to be carefully inspecting all the parts of the shop.

  "Did she send you?"

  That finally brought the butler's attention back to him. "No, I decided that on my own. Wanted to see how you were getting on."

  "Splendidly," Artie said.

  "So it would seem." The butler looked him up and down. "You are untidy, your hair is flying in all directions in a most unfashionable way, but you seem happy as the proverbial pig in slop."

  "That sounds suspiciously like a criticism."

  "Never accept criticism for being happy, Master Artie."

  "Love conquers all and never accept criticism for being happy? Reeves, your philosophies are a surprise to me."

  The butler smiled. "I said love was important, I never said it stood to conquer anything."

  Another knock sounded at the door. This time the figure outside was petite, colorful, and feminine. As the door wasn't locked she opened it and peeked around. "May I come in? Oh! Mr. Reeves!" Without waiting for Artie's response she bustled in and set down a basket she had been carrying. "Mr. Reeves, it's so good to see you!"

  She held out her hands and Reeves took them, smiling down at her. "It's a pleasure to see you, Miss Minett."

  "Did you hear that we're to be shopkeepers?"

  His gaze flicked to Artie for a moment. "I've heard that's a possibility."

  She turned to the basket she'd set down and flipped back the cloth covering it. "Here are some of our wares." She set a delicate white peony on Reeves' palm. "I believe we should attach them to stems, don't you think?"

  "It's quite good work," Reeves observed.

  "Yes it is," she agreed, turning to the window. "And once we have all this cleaned up and the windows sparkling, everyone will be able to see it."

  "We may need to lease out the space for some time," Artie cautioned her.

  "We might, but that gives us all the more time to work on our stock."

  "Well," Reeves said, "I see that everything is in order here." He set the peony back in Teddy's basket.

  "Oh, no!" she said. "You should keep it."

  The butler looked surprised for a moment, but then closed it in his palm. "Thank you very much, Miss Minett. I shall treasure it always."

  Once Reeves took his leave, Artie looked over to Teddy. "And where is your maid now?"

  "She'll be along shortly," she said breezily. "Your butler, my maid. We're awash in servants for two poor tradespeople."

  Artie grinned and leaned back against the counter, arms folded. At least Teddy wasn't feeling argumentative today. "He's not my butler and she's not your maid. Which is good, as neither of us has the funds to pay them."

  She sauntered over to him. "That may be true. No kiss for your fiancée?" She stopped easily within arm's reach.

  "Would it just be a kiss?" he asked softly.

  She gasped in mock horror. "Sir, my maid could be here any minute!"

  He leaned down to whisper in her ear, still not touching her. "And if I took you into the back room, how long would I need to have my hand under your dress until you cried out my name?"

  She gave that little whimper he loved so much. Honestly, she had turned him into what he would have thought an impossible version of himself. He straightened away from her and she wavered on her feet, bending toward him like a flower in the breeze.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Teddy wasn't sure if his question had been meant to drive her insane, but it certainly felt like it. There he stood, arms still crossed over his chest and grinning down at her as though he found her desire entertaining. She was trying to decide on a fitting retribution when he spoke again.

  "Reeves came to bring me a letter, but already told me the best part of it. The duke shall be here within a fortnight."

  Teddy blinked. A fortnight? The duke? "Has your mother reserved St. Michael's yet? Do we know precisely when he'll be here? We haven't assembled the rest of the guest list yet. How will we pay for the wedding breakfast? Do you know what you're going to wear? We should consider trying to match my ribbons to your jacket. Of course, I don't have a dress as fine as any of your jackets. I suppose I should wear the yellow. Perhaps with the blue ribbons? And then you can wear that robin's egg colored jacket, I think it's only two years old if I recall correctly. You do still have it, don't you?"

  "Teddy."

  "If you don't have it, then we can certainly do something else. Perhaps you should choose your jacket first and then I can do something to coordinate. I have the white muslin, of course."
/>   "Teddy!" He took her shoulders. "Breathe, love. It will be all right."

  "But it's in a fortnight! Not that I wanted to wait longer, or even that long in fact, but now it's upon us and I don't know what to do or what to wear or who will be there, and goodness gracious there will be a duke in attendance and why did I ever think I could marry you anyway? Your family is so far above mine it's like a frog thinking she can marry the moon."

  He kissed her. Teddy considered batting him away because couldn't he see that she was worried? But his kiss was gentle and sweet and oh so much better than worrying about anything. In fact, she would like it very much if Artie would simply keep on kissing her until after the wedding was over because then she wouldn't have the option of worrying about anything.

  "Miss Teddy!" Bernice's outraged voice made Teddy jump. Artie had the good grace to look at the maid sheepishly.

  Teddy cleared her throat and walked towards her family's retainer, her hands outstretched. "The date has finally been set. It shall be in a fortnight. Let us go home and tell mother so she can help me plan." She looked back at her fiancé, standing there in his shirtsleeves. "Do you know what jacket you'd like to wear?"

  "The robin's egg is fine. I'll have it ready for the day."

  Teddy nodded and left with her maid.

  ***

  Artie watched Teddy leave while the maid glowered at him. If only the woman knew. And the jacket was celestial blue, not robin's egg, but it was hardly the thing to challenge one's beloved on the topic of fashion. He undoubtedly knew more about fashion than his wife. Soon-to-be wife. He wished that he could take her to the finest modistes in London to fill her dressing room with fine garments. He also wished he could afford to give her a dressing room. Sadly, he couldn't afford any of those things. While related to the wealthy and powerful, he had neither wealth nor power himself. He had always lived on scraps, really. His allowance had only afforded him the disguise that allowed him to move about their circles as though he was one of them, something his father demanded. Had he the foresight to know what path his life would take, he could have sequestered himself and horded hundreds of pounds rather than spending them on things like velvet celestial blue jackets. It was a lovely jacket, and quite the stare of fashion when he'd had it made three years ago. But other than giving him something to wear at his wedding, what did it do for him now?