by Eliza Lloyd
“Jewelry? Why?” she asked.
“You seemed enchanted with Lady Weatherby’s ring, and it is fitting to have some sort of commitment to our eternal devotion. Rings are a lovely demonstration.”
“Carlow, it is a kind gesture, but this eternal devotion is only for three months.”
“What I am hearing from you is at complete odds with the woman I met at the ball.”
“Are you also going to wear one of these symbols of devotion?” she asked.
“Let me guess. Lady Fortenay’s idea?”
“Perhaps.”
“It’s not done.”
“Then why should I?”
He blinked, unsure what she wanted to hear.
A man pushed through an elegant curtain at the back of the store. “My lord Carlow, how good to see you again. I had heard about your recent nuptials. Is this your charming bride?” Francois gripped her hand and kissed her knuckles with great affection. Ah, the French. Never to be outdone when it came to overt romance.
“Francois, meet Nora, Lady Carlow.”
“Charmed.” Francois was of middling height with a protruding belly and a full head of dark hair.
“I want something as unique as my dear wife. Beautiful. Dazzling. Just the right size and without a flaw.”
Nora squeaked and put her hand over her mouth.
“So many choices. Come. Come. Let me show you a display.” There was another couple in the small shop, speaking quietly. Francois turned toward one of the safes installed inside a room at the back. Nora watched him with a little too much interest.
Gabriel whispered to Nora, “The temptation will be great, but please don’t steal anything. If you must have it, I will buy it for you.”
“What is the fun in that?”
Francois pulled out a few bright and shiny rings and placed them on a velvet pad. “If you find these specimens ill-suited, we could design a ring especially for her.”
Gabriel glanced at Nora to see her eyes were wide with desire. Not for him, unfortunately.
She backed away abruptly, hooked her arm with his and turned to him privately. “I want Henbury. Rings are nice. Necklaces too. I am sure all aspects of your life are to be desired.”
“Are you squeamish about accepting gifts? Or would you rather I pay for one and then allow you to steal it when my back is turned?”
“You think thievery is for men of low report? I see theft as an art.”
“Did your father teach you that too?”
“It is what I remember. Everything else I learned from Gigi and Grandy.”
Lord and Lady Fortenay had much to answer for, Gabriel thought.
“Then you need a new teacher. One with more comprehensive life experiences. Like me. And we’re going to start with a pretty bauble that will make every woman in London jealous because the wearer has a doting husband who can afford such trinkets. And you will be the adoring wife who accepts the gift graciously.”
She smiled and glanced up at him through those seductive lashes. “Your adoring wife will take this one, please.” She opened her palm between them and showed him a ring with a brilliant blue diamond and several smaller white diamonds encircling the center piece.
“Francois isn’t going to be happy with you.”
“I picked it up so you could see it with better clarity.”
“Of course, you would choose the most expensive one.” Francois was no fool. He’d placed the most beautiful rings in front of them first. Was Gabriel going to embarrass himself by looking at lesser rings? In front of his new wife?
“I’ve never been one to make other women jealous, but since you are teaching me how to do that, then it has to be this one. Lady Fortenay always said I was an astute pupil.”
“What was the one thing I asked when we walked in?”
“You make so many demands, it is hard to remember them all,” she said, one shoulder lifting.
He accepted the return of the pilfered ring. How did she do that? “Are you sure you wouldn’t care to look at some of the others?”
“I could, but then you would have to buy me three or four rings. No, this one will do.”
“Francois?” Gabriel called.
“I am going to look at some of the other pieces,” she said.
“No, no, my dear. You stay right here with me.” Gabriel completed the transaction and made arrangement for the payment. She obliged, wrapping her hands about his arm and hugging him closely, her breast pressed against the back of his arm.
“Will I need to resize the ring for the madam?” Francois asked.
“Darling?”
Nora quickly removed her glove, held out her hand and allowed Francois to gently slide the ring onto her left ring finger. He exclaimed in delight, “It was meant to be! A perfect fit.”
“Look, Carlow, isn’t it exquisite?”
Gabriel glanced at the velvet pad to see that another of the rings had gone missing. He reached for her extended hand and felt the bulge of the stolen ring hooked to her thumb but hidden by her palm and extended digits.
“They all are, but you have the best of the group,” he said. He extracted the extra ring, giving her a stern glance, and replaced it just as easily as Nora had swiped up the bauble. “Thank you, Francois. We’d better be going before my bank account is cleared.”
Outside, they walked toward their waiting carriage. Gabriel was torn between laughing and swatting her bottom. Both had appeal.
“You ought to keep this with you,” she said, while pulling the new, expensive ring from her finger. “I don’t want it to be stolen and it’s better that I take it off now.”
He laughed. “Yes, take it off.” And he laughed some more. “And with that thought, let us buy you a new wardrobe!” Gabriel was prepared for her to steal all he owned, and he was going to enjoy every moment. Nora hmpfed and pulled on her glove. Good God, in the middle of the street. She was every inch George Blasington’s daughter.
* * * * *
“Oh, Molly, look at these dresses! Which one should I wear tonight?” There were two evening dresses and one new day dress spread on Carlow’s bed. They had been on display in different dressmaker’s windows along Bond Street. With each exclamation she made, Carlow steered her inside, convinced her to try on the desired dress and then purchased it for her.
At the last shop, Carlow demanded to see the shop owner, who then clapped her hands and whirled Nora into a back room where she was stripped, measured, turned and, to her surprise, consulted about the material, color, pattern, fit and accessories of several dresses, including her new riding habit—a green velvet! Nora wanted to bury her nose in the pattern books and touch every one of the bright and expensive materials, the likes of which she had never seen.
If the dressmaker’s shop in Dorset had ten bolts of cloth, it was a good day. This was an opportunist’s dream! It also tied her a little closer to Carlow.
Carlow had disappeared, and each time Nora had uttered, “But Carlow won’t approve of that!” the shop owner dismissed her concern with the wave of her hand. “But of course he will! He already has.”
And just as Nora could not stand to be poked by one more pin, the madam told her she was done, her dresses would be ready in two weeks and Lord Carlow waited for her.
And he didn’t say a word about it on the ride home.
The entire day had been muffed, all because she had no riding habit, though she could say she was entirely happy with the outcome.
“Wear the blue one tonight. It matches your new ring. Your plan is working so well, mi’lady,” Molly said.
“My plan? My plan is to get Henbury Hall.”
“Then why is Lord Carlow providing so many gifts? It’s as if he’s not upset about your marriage.”
“I didn’t ask for them,” Nora said hotly. She hated being given what she had not earned. Better to steal what she needed. “Molly, let’s not speak of this. Carlow does what he wants, and all I care about is getting my home back.” Aside from his ang
er with her about her words to his friends, he’d been most congenial.
“It is rather romantic,” Molly said, shaking out the blue dress. “Did you get new undergarments? I’m afraid I am sewing seams over the seams.”
“Yes!” Nora said, feeling a little too excited. “Of the softest silks and linens.”
“And you are going to a real ball!”
Nora picked up the dress and held it in front of her, taking a few steps. “A reel dance!” She skip-hopped, turned and skipped again. “I hope I remember how. I don’t want to be embarrassed since I won’t be wearing a mask!”
“You’ll look so grand, no one will notice if you miss a few strides.”
“Oh, I hope so. Pretending to be a grand lady will be my second act.”
“Sit. Sit. Let me finish your hair and then we will complete your dress.”
“Molly, it fits as if it were made for me. Lady Fortenay would call me a diamond of the first water!” Nora fell on Carlow’s bed, laughing with unexpected joy. She ran her hand over the blue silk. Would Carlow take the ring and the dresses when it was time to end their marriage? Or were the ring and dresses part of an unspoken agreement outside of the exchange of Henbury Hall? Was it an offering to encourage Nora to invite him to her bed sooner? How she wished that duty was already over.
Should she feel a little guilty she was so happy about the gifts, considering what she had done to secure Henbury Hall?
Carlow was an exceptional-looking man, with his perfect wardrobe, impeccable manners and cheery disposition. She wished he had some obvious character flaw.
He was a great defender of his friends. Would that he could someday be a great protector and defender of the Blasingtons. Alas, blackmailing a man into marriage usually left little room for charity. As much as she would like to call the loyalty to his friends one of his flaws, especially when she was at odds with those friends, it was admirable of him to be so devoted to them.
At a knock on the door, Molly rushed to the panel and opened it. Nora sat up on the bed, blue dress in hand. Carlow strolled in as if she were in his room and glanced around until he caught her gaze. “Lady Carlow, we are leaving in fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed.”
She crunched the dress to her body as he approached. “I’ll be ready soon.”
“Here, I brought this so you can wear it tonight. Good, I had hoped you would wear the blue. It isn’t like you to do anything I actually hope you will do.” At first, he held out his hand as if he were going to drop it in her palm; instead, he gripped her fingers and placed it securely.
“You asked so nicely earlier. How could I say no?” she asked, ready to jerk her hand away where his touch burned. She didn’t want to believe he was actually a kind person, but he had been excessively thoughtful the last two days.
“Your choice of dress is your decision.” He waved to Nora’s lady’s maid and she hurried to collect the garment. “I wouldn’t know a fichu from a bandeaux, but I am very much looking forward to seeing you in it again.” He reached for a curl dangling at her ear and wrapped it around his finger. “I have no doubt you will astound everyone with your beauty. Now that they can see you fully.”
“Only one dance, Carlow. I don’t want to be on display.”
“What about all those who, at a mere glance from you, will want to whisk you around the room?”
“I don’t know them, and it is your duty to keep them away from your wife.” Her performance at the Weatherby Ball with Carlow was for him alone. And she didn’t think she could muster that sort of courage for a second night. In the open, where everyone knew her name. And how she was now inextricably tied to Lord Carlow.
“You’ve only to say no. No gentleman would pressure you for that which you do not want to give.”
“Even my husband?”
“Ah, always looking to trap me into doing or admitting some dastardly deed, aren’t you?”
“Please? You must understand why.”
“As you wish. We are losing time. I will meet you in the foyer. Oh, one more thing. My mother thought you might like to wear this to complement your dress.” He pulled out a necklace—a thin silver chain from which dangled a facetted sapphire. “She’ll want it back after the ball,” he said, willing to needle her.
“Is your mother attending?”
“She prefers this sort of ball. No scandals, no curses and plenty of cushioned chairs around the ballroom.”
“I will thank her when I see her.”
“She’s waiting in the foyer too.”
Nora screamed. “Carlow, why didn’t you tell me? Hurry, Molly. Leave us,” she urged. “Go, go!” she said, practically pushing Carlow from the room.
Molly hurriedly helped with her dress and laced her up tight. Nora sat in front of a tri-mirror vanity while Molly finished pinning up her hair. How many would look down on her for the events she had caused two nights ago? Or maybe there were other scandals that night she hadn’t heard about yet. Carlow would have told her, surely.
“I must look as wonderful as Carlow thinks I will. Or better.”
* * * * *
“Well, I have to say you were right, Carlow. She looks magnificent in that blue.” His mother stood beside him, wrestling with a tightly drawn corset beneath her ball gown. “Uhm,” she grunted.
Gabriel’s heart stood still as Nora descended the stairs. When she approached, he leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.
“Carlow,” she said. “Lady Carlow. Thank you. Your necklace is just perfect for this dress,” she said to his mother, drawing her hand along the bodice of her dress, skillfully drawing attention to the necklace, for the benefit of her mother-in-law, and her cleavage, for the benefit of her husband.
“I am glad someone is putting it to good use. I never had suitable skin tone for that color. I inherited it from my grandmother. It’s quite old.”
“For this evening, I will treasure your gift.” Gabriel glanced at her, deciding she was being sincere.
They loaded the carriage, Gabriel assisting both ladies.
“I trust this ball will have less excitement than your last one,” his mother said.
“Where Nora is, I think there is always a level of dramatic upheaval.”
“I prefer the word adventurous,” Nora said.
“The Duke of Exeter is not the man to enjoy any sort of adventure. Do be a proper countess tonight, would you, dear?” his mother said.
The Exeter Ball was as large as the Weatherby Ball but without the masks and trouble. As they climbed the marble stairs to the large mansion, Nora gripped his arm tightly.
Mother no longer danced, but as soon as they were inside, she said, “Have a good evening, both of you. I will be visiting with my peers in the ballroom and later in one of the drawing rooms, if you need me. And if the Duke of Exeter asks about me, make sure he knows I am in attendance.”
“You just saw the family last week,” Gabriel said.
“Hmm. And I will see them again this evening,” she said. “But I haven’t seen Exeter all month, and this is his ball.”
“I’ll fetch you when we are ready for supper, Mother.”
“Enjoy yourself. No trouble this evening, Lady Carlow,” she said to Nora, then snapped her fan open as she departed.
“I think she likes you,” Gabriel said.
“Once she gets to know me, she’ll change her mind.”
“Self-deprecation isn’t your style, my dear. I like the confident Nora.”
Gabriel placed her gloved hand upon his sleeve and began the slow walk around the ballroom. Would tonight be the night he joined Nora in her bed? He was growing a little eager for the fulfillment for which he longed and for which he’d bargained Henbury Hall. And if Nora demanded, he would have to take her to Henbury as he agreed. He would rather secure his position now. Courting her at Henbury seemed fraught with peril, if not downright impossible.
Gabriel’s recent wedding drew a wide range of interest. Several of his acquaintances and their
wives were curious about Nora, daughter of the notorious Blasington, Earl of Wargrove, including Exeter. Such a combination of family notoriety and her personal beauty drew them all.
Miss Talbot was there. Her mother and father were there. He passed them, nodding without stopping to introduce his wife. There wasn’t an understanding regarding him and Miss Talbot, and he would not feel intimidated by their glares.
Other men winked knowingly. The wives pretended their questions were innocent when there was an underlying suspicion, maybe even a little jealousy.
Nora smiled and answered with vagueness. She used that same canny humor he’d experienced the night he met her. There were still questions Gabriel wanted to know, but he learned the same thing all the gossipy inquirers did—nothing.
One woman, Lady Hythe, captured Nora’s interest when Lady Hythe mentioned she’d spent several years in India. Gabriel hadn’t told Nora of their other connection. Lord and Lady Hythe had been snagged by Lady Weatherby’s ball curse last year. Maybe he would tell Nora later when he needed to humor her.
“Carlow?” Nora tugged at his sleeve as a servant approached.
“Ah, yes. A cool drink sounds just the thing.” The servant held a silver platter full of long-stemmed glasses, probably ratafia if its pinkish color were an indication. It would satisfy for the moment until the hard liquor was available.
Nora took her glass and sipped. “Oh! That is quite delicious,” she said.
“It’s always been a bit sweet for my taste.”
She took another sip and laughed. “How is it made?”
“Exeter probably has his own recipe, and he does have orchards in France, so I would guess he has it made and bottled there.”
“It’s fruity.”
“Champagne grapes and other fruits, and almonds sometimes. I’ve never had a glass that tastes quite the same as the last one.”
“Well, I intend to have another.”
“Not too many, my dear, or I might find you collapsed on the dance floor.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” She sipped again and licked her lips. “So, what does one do at a ball if they don’t dance?”
“Gossip. Drink. Flirt. Find a wife. Have you never been to a ball such as this?”
