“In Berkeley Square. It’s an attractive house, although I did not think so when I lived there with Oliver. I hated it then, but one generally hates places where one is miserable, I suppose. And even though I’m sure the steward has made sure the house was properly maintained, I shall no doubt want to redecorate some of the rooms when I have time. Will you help me, Becky?”
“Of course, dear. But before we give any thought to refurbishing the house, we must renew your wardrobe. Have you decided which dressmaker you will use?”
Amanda felt a faint blush touch her cheeks. “Lord Blackbourne sent me a message saying his aunt has agreed to guide me in selecting a wardrobe. That is very generous of her of course, but to be honest, Becky, I would prefer to choose my own modiste. After all, as you are aware, I am not without experience.”
“What a prodigious understatement, my dear. Based on the volume of clothing your father insisted upon your purchasing when I lived with you, I would say you are more conversant with London dressmakers and shops than nine-tenths of the ladies of the ton. Still, considering that Lady Cordelia has offered to help, it is only polite to defer to her judgment.”
“I suppose so,” Amanda agreed with a deep sigh. Then she scooted forward on her seat a little more. “Oh look, we are approaching the house now.”
“Which is it, my dear?”
“Number Sixteen, there on the right—the one with the black curricle parked at the front. Who do you suppose… Oh! It is Lord Blackbourne. He obviously received my letter telling him when we would arrive.” Amanda glanced down at her traveling gown and immediately began brushing at the wrinkles. “Is my bonnet straight, Becky?” she asked. “Oh dear, I wish he had given us a few minutes in which to refresh ourselves.”
Realizing that Rebecca was regarding her with raised eyebrows and a speculative expression, Amanda forced herself to stop babbling and take a deep breath. She did not understand why she was growing so flustered merely because Lord Blackbourne was waiting for them. She must remember that he was, after all, David’s guardian and that his interest in her was hopefully centered on what was best for David and nothing else.
“He is certainly a tall man,” Rebecca observed, calmly retrieving her reticule from the coach seat and slipping the ribbons over her wrist.
The carriage had barely rolled to a stop when Blackbourne hurried to open the door. “Welcome, my lady,” he said, his eyes narrowing when he saw that Amanda was not alone. “May I help you and your, uh, companion to descend?”
His presence was just as overwhelming as Amanda had remembered, which was unfortunate since she was not accustomed to having her heart speed up merely because a gentleman was holding his hand out to help her exit a carriage.
“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured. As soon as her feet touched the pavement, she turned back toward the coach. Blackbourne had already extended a hand to help Rebecca alight.
“I must make you known to my friend, Miss Rebecca Thornton. Rebecca, this is Lord Blackbourne,” Amanda said.
“A pleasure, Miss Thornton,” Blackbourne responded, although his frown indicated he was experiencing no pleasure at all in meeting Amanda’s companion. “I was not aware you would be accompanying her ladyship.”
“There is no reason you would be aware since presumably no one informed you,” Rebecca replied in her no-nonsense tone. Her initial pleasant smile had faded, and her slightly elevated brows suggested she was drawing her own conclusions about the reasons for Blackbourne’s dismay at seeing her. “But you should have realized that Amanda would quite rightly wish to have a friend at her side during her sojourn in town.”
“It was kind of you to meet us, my lord,” Amanda said hurriedly. “Won’t you come in?”
Blackbourne regarded her solemnly for a moment before he shook his head and stepped back. “Thank you, but no. You ladies will wish to refresh yourselves before receiving guests. You’ll be pleased to know that the coach carrying your maid and the luggage arrived safely about half an hour ago. I decided to wait on you so I could inquire about David’s and Thomas’ progress. David wasn’t upset that you are leaving him in the country, I hope.”
“Just a bit, but he understands that I am only visiting in the city for a few weeks, and in the meantime, he seems quite happy with Thomas.” Amanda asked herself why she found his concern about David and Thomas so lowering. She had just moments before told herself that Blackbourne had no interest in her beyond his guardianship of her son. “Perhaps you would like to dine with us this evening?”
Again he shook his head. “I regret that I am already committed for dinner. In fact, I had not realized it was so late. You will wish to rest after your journey, so I shall not call again until tomorrow morning. My aunt is expecting us at eleven o’clock, if that is convenient with you.”
“That will be fine,” Amanda murmured, wishing she were not experiencing quite so many qualms about meeting Blackbourne’s aunt. After all, the lady would not have agreed to sponsor her if she did not wish to do so. Still, it was a bit unnerving to think that she would soon become somewhat dependent upon one of the most influential ladies in the ton.
“I shall be here at half past ten to pick you up,” Blackbourne said. He bowed to both ladies, climbed into his curricle and drove away without looking back.
“I do not think he was best pleased to see me,” Rebecca murmured, more to herself than to Amanda, but Amanda heard her.
For a reason she didn’t fully understand, Amanda didn’t want Becky to think badly of Blackbourne. “He was perhaps somewhat surprised that I had brought a companion with me, but I suppose that’s only natural considering that I’d never mentioned you.”
Rebecca regarded her thoughtfully. “You sound as though you wish to defend the man. Yet, just a short time ago, you were fearful that he might be planning a flirtation. At first, I put no credence in your fears, but after seeing him, I’m not sure.”
Amanda forced a smile, hoping it conveyed a degree of nonchalance she was far from feeling. “My dearest Becky, if a possible flirtation were the greatest of my worries, I should have none at all. For many years before my marriage—no doubt due to my questionable social position as the daughter of a merchant—I was subjected to the attentions of men who thought I would instantly succumb to their charms and then fall into their arms. I learned long ago how to suppress gentlemen’s advances. You need not be concerned about me.”
Still managing to maintain her smile, Amanda marched up the three steps to the town house door where Hammond the butler waited to receive them. Amanda could feel Rebecca’s eyes boring into her back and hoped her friend could not read her emotions. She certainly did not want Becky to guess that in all those years of turning aside unwanted attentions, she had never once been forced to deal with the fact that her traitorous body was responding even while her mind warned her that the waters ahead were deep and exceedingly treacherous.
* * * * *
The following morning, Blackbourne chose to drive his curricle, complete with a liveried groom sitting behind. He was determined to separate Amanda from her dragon lady and he could think of no better excuse than to tell Miss Thornton there was no room for a third person in his carriage.
He left his groom to walk the horses while he tapped on the door of Amanda’s town house. A stately butler led him to a small drawing room and solemnly informed him that her ladyship would be with him shortly.
The dragon lady arrived first. Dressed in a severe, gray morning gown, she paused in the doorway and regarded Blackbourne with unsmiling solemnity. Never, Blackbourne realized, had he seen a homelier woman. If Amanda had chosen her companion with a goal of frightening people away, she had made an excellent choice.
And then the dragon smiled and Blackbourne, reluctantly impressed by the difference a smile could make in her appearance, jumped to his feet and bowed. “Good morning, Miss Thornton.”
Rebecca inclined her head. “Good morning, your lordship. I shall not be accompanying you and Amanda t
his morning. Your aunt is not expecting me and it would be rude of me to intrude under these circumstances.”
Blackbourne suppressed a smile of relief. “You must do as you see fit, Miss Thornton.”
“I shall,” she responded firmly, leaving Blackbourne to wonder how, with just two words, Miss Thornton had so easily stripped away the sense of victory he’d been feeling.
A second later, Miss Thornton was forgotten as Blackbourne’s breath caught low in his chest. Amanda had stepped into the room.
Her appearance was both dignified and astoundingly beautiful. Although she had seemingly tried to subdue her glorious hair by pulling it back off her face, the severe style did nothing to obscure the delicate planes of her face. He noted, too, that she had chosen a gown with long sleeves and a high neckline. He suspected that she had tried to dress conservatively to prove to his aunt that she was every inch the lady, and he wondered what Amanda would think if she knew what effect her choice was having on him.
Ruthlessly suppressing his inclination to stride to Amanda’s side and kiss her until she melted in his arms, Blackbourne instead bowed formally. “Good morning, my lady. You look charming today. I’m sure my aunt Cordelia will think so too. Shall we go?”
Amanda nodded, causing the small plumes on her bonnet to bob up and down. “Thank you, my lord.” She turned to her companion. “Goodbye, Becky. I shall see you this afternoon.”
Rebecca followed them to the front door to see them off. She was waving when Blackbourne guided his curricle out onto the street.
“You must be wondering why I brought Rebecca with me,” Amanda said with a lift of her chin.
Blackbourne, busy wending his way through London traffic, glanced at her with arched eyebrows. “Not particularly,” he lied. “I must admit, however, to some curiosity about who she is.”
“She is my friend,” Amanda replied firmly. “She is also my former governess.”
“Ah,” said Blackbourne. “An impoverished lady from a good family, I suppose.”
“Something like that,” Amanda murmured. She grasped her reticule tightly in her hands while twisting the ribbons around and around.
“Are you nervous about meeting my aunt?” Blackbourne asked, watching her from the corner of his eye.
Amanda glanced at him, then lifted her shoulders in a deep sigh. “I must admit to being somewhat nervous. I can’t help wondering why your aunt has agreed to sponsor a stranger. It is uncommonly generous of her.”
“The depth of my aunt’s generosity would astound you,” Blackbourne responded with intentional irony, which he hoped was lost on Amanda. But clearly a warning was needed. “If at first Aunt Cordelia should appear cool, you must not allow her manner to intimidate you. She is one of those people who always appears haughty, even when she isn’t feeling that way.”
“I shall bear that in mind,” Amanda said. Blackbourne noted, however, that she continued to twist the ribbons of her reticule so tightly that they twirled open when she set them free.
Ten minutes later, Blackbourne experienced a surge of fury when he stood with Amanda on his aunt’s doorstep only to be told by her butler that Lady Cordelia was laid down upon her bed with a sick headache and could not meet with Lady Willowvale this morning. Since his aunt had not bothered to send a message canceling their plans, he could only assume that she was attempting to throw obstacles in his path while still living up to the letter of their agreement. He knew from past experience just how manipulative she could be.
He glanced at Amanda, expecting to read disappointment in her expression. Instead, her smile clearly suggested relief. She obviously had not realized that his aunt was likely lying about her condition.
“Has a physician been summoned, Simmons?” Blackbourne asked, his voice tight.
“No, my lord. Her ladyship said to tell you that she frequently suffers from such maladies and that she requires only the attentions of her companion, Miss Whitehead.”
“In that case, I shall send her a bouquet this afternoon as an expression of my hope that she will soon recover.” Blackbourne knew he had to keep up his pretense of concern lest Amanda become aware of his fury and guess the reason behind it. Forcing a smile, he turned his back on Simmons and addressed Amanda. “I apologize for this delay, Lady Willowvale. I realize that ordering a new wardrobe is of crucial importance. Obviously you cannot begin attending social gatherings until you possess the appropriate attire.”
Amanda cheeks turned pink but she met his gaze squarely. “To tell the truth, Lord Blackbourne, I would prefer handling that chore myself. When I was growing up, my father insisted that I patronize dressmakers who were popular with the ton. I would assume that most of them are still in business, and Rebecca will be pleased to accompany me to their establishments.”
Suddenly Blackbourne’s fury at his aunt’s machinations faded. Not that he believed for a minute that she was too ill to accompany Amanda. He was certain her malady was merely a pretense designed to irritate him. Still, through that pretense, she had inadvertently done him a favor.
“Nonsense.” He flashed his most charming smile. “There is no need to drag Miss Thornton out in the afternoon heat. I have no plans for the day and shall be happy to drive you wherever you wish to go.” Offering his arm to Amanda, he escorted her down the steps. His groom had returned from walking the horses and now guided the curricle back in place in front of Lady Cordelia’s house.
Blackbourne instructed the groom to hold the horses while he handed Amanda into the carriage. Once he made sure she was comfortably settled, he climbed into the driver’s seat, told the groom to take his position behind and then guided the team out into the street.
“Are you certain you wish to do this?” Amanda asked with a frown. “It has been my experience that gentlemen dislike shopping, especially when they’re required to sit around waiting for ladies to make decisions about materials and styles and colors and all that goes along with ordering new garments.”
Blackbourne glanced at her from the corner of his eye and found her watching him closely. He smiled again. “I assure you, my lady, that I don’t mind at all. Now, where do you want to go first?”
When Amanda provided him with the name and address of her favorite dressmaker, Blackbourne bit back an objection. He was aware that this particular modiste was one of the most expensive and certainly one of the most exclusive in London. Not wanting Amanda to be embarrassed by the dressmaker’s refusal to see her, he immediately slowed his team. “Are you certain that’s where you wish to go, my lady? There are surely other shops that would be, eh, less, eh…” He stumbled to a halt, aware that he couldn’t voice his fears without insulting Amanda.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Are you thinking, my lord, that only the ton could demand the attention of such an exalted modiste? I assure you that when I shopped in London in the past, any dressmaker, no matter how grandiose her clientele, appeared fond of my father’s money, which was, after all, promptly paid upon receipt of the merchandise.”
“Whereas members of polite society rarely pay promptly,” Blackbourne said, voicing aloud her implied criticism of his class. “True, no doubt, but you would be well advised not to express such thoughts among my aunt’s friends.”
Amanda lifted her chin. “I am not stupid, my lord.”
Blackbourne glanced sideways at her. “No, you certainly are not,” he agreed, smiling. “Fortunately, I like smart women.”
“Then you must be quite unfashionable, my lord. I have been advised that gentlemen are intimidated by women who are as intelligent as they.”
Blackbourne blinked in surprise. “Who told you that?”
“Do you deny it?”
“Of course not. You would know me for a liar if I did. Most men of my class prefer to think their ladies are helpless simpletons who would be lost without guidance from the stronger sex.”
“And you do not subscribe to this belief?”
“I must admit that in many cases, it is accurate. But not, I th
ink, with respect to you.”
“You barely know me, Lord Blackbourne. Yet you have already decided that I am less of a helpless simpleton than the majority of my sex?”
“The majority of your sex have not heard of Sir Isaac Newton, or—if they have—they are not conversant with his theories.”
“Ah, but I would not be my father’s daughter if I did not take some interest in discoveries that might well change the future. He thought, for example, that the present balloon ascensions are only the beginning of man’s efforts to fly. He was convinced that someday much more sophisticated flying machines will fill the sky.”
“A visionary, I perceive,” Blackbourne commented with a wry grin. “I have heard others speculate about such things. While I must admit that I find it difficult to imagine machines flying through the air, I do try to maintain an open mind.”
“I am pleased to hear that, my lord,” Amanda replied. “Look, we have almost arrived. The shop is ahead on our right.”
Blackbourne slowed his team and glanced at the small wooden sign above the dressmaker’s door, Madame Sherri, Modiste Extraordinaire. He pulled in a deep breath. “Are you absolutely certain you wish to shop here?”
Amanda turned to stare at him. “Is there some particular reason you believe I should not?”
Blackbourne couldn’t tell Amanda that several months before, having given in to the cajoling of the female who was his mistress at that time, he had escorted Maggie to this very shop so she might order a fashionable riding habit. Madame Sherri had served them—no doubt because she did not wish to insult a peer—but her reluctance to do so had been evident in her upturned nose and haughty manner. He did not want Amanda to be hurt should the modiste exhibit similar reluctance about waiting on her.
Glancing at Amanda, he realized she was watching him, waiting for an answer to her question. He raised his eyebrows. “I merely asked,” he lied calmly, “because I have heard that this dressmaker’s popularity is waning.”
Amanda’s chin shot up. “Even if that is true, it does not change my desire to shop here.”
My Elusive Countess Page 8
