Page 64 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“Leads?”
“Yes. He was missing earlier today, and I plan to discover what he was really doing in that time.”
Henrietta blanched. “So, you believe the same thing I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“That Mr. Booth was the one who spooked the horse. That today’s accident was an intentional attack upon my life.”
He paused for a moment. “I did not want to worry you, Henrietta… but yes, I believe that to be the case.”
“Then we must discover this rogue’s true intentions before he attempts it again,” she said firmly. For, deep in the back of her mind, she knew it would not be long before another attempt was made. Vengeance, once begun, could not be halted until one side had fallen.
Chapter 25
Henrietta and Ewan visited Fordham’s fabric shop first, which was set back from the main promenade that bordered the stormy sea beyond. A bell tinkled as they entered the dimly-lit shop. Behind a counter, an older man raised his head in curiosity, a polite smile turning up the corners of his lips as the couple stepped further in.
“Good afternoon to you,” he said. “How may I assist you?”
“Are you Mr. Fordham?” Ewan asked, taking the lead.
“I am.”
“I was wondering if you have recently dealt with a Mr. Booth, who is currently in the employ of Lord Averson?”
The old man thought for a moment. “Why, yes, he came in earlier today. Around half-past-eleven, I should say. He was seeking a jacquard silk for Lord Averson’s new waistcoat.”
Ewan felt a twinge of disappointment. “Did he stay very long?”
“Not at all. Fifteen minutes or so. It was a fairly simple request.”
“Ah… well, thank you for your time.”
Mr. Fordham frowned. “Would you care to look around? We have the most remarkable fabrics shipped from all across the world. Perhaps, your dear lady wife might care for a new gown?”
Ewan glanced at Henrietta, who was already smoothing her delicate hands across a scarlet satin. He watched her for a moment, admiring the intensity in her eyes. She had never looked prettier, he thought. Indeed, in the gray light that shone in through the store window, he saw her in a way he had never done before. Like this, she bore little similarity to Patricia. He could almost forget the features they shared, for Henrietta looked much younger and infinitely more impish in her demeanor. Patricia had always bordered on the side of sincerity, where Henrietta resided in perpetual mischief.
Is it possible to feel affection for two ladies in one’s life?He had convinced himself that his chance for love had ended, the moment that Patricia and their son had been stolen away from this world. Now, however, his heart beat a little faster at the sight of his new wife.
“I suppose we may browse these fabrics a while,” he said to Mr. Fordham, who looked pleased to hear it. Indeed, the proprietor swept towards Henrietta and began to discuss the merits of the satin with her.
“This would look beautiful against your pale complexion, My Lady. Although, perhaps scarlet is a little too harsh for one so young. With your blue eyes, might I suggest something in amethyst? There is a speck of green in the color of your irises, and this would do wonders at plucking out those hidden hues.”
Henrietta flashed him a shy smile. “Do you have the same fabric in such a shade?”
“I do, My Lady.” He hurried back around the counter, moving swiftly for a man of such advanced years, and brought back a roll of amethyst satin. Ewan liked the color very well, especially when Mr. Fordham lifted it against her skin.
“It is rather striking,” she admitted, peering at the fabric in the looking glass at the side of the room. “And you say it will bring out the green in my eyes? I did not think I had such a color.”
“Oh yes, My Lady. There are hidden pigments in the eyes of most people, though we often, mistakenly, paint them as a simple blue or brown or amber.”
Ewan looked at his wife’s reflection and realized that Mr. Fordham was quite correct. When the purple material was held close to Henrietta’s throat, it created the most marvelous metamorphosis upon her eyes. As she blinked, the color of her irises seemed almost to match the shade of the tempestuous sea—blue and green and gray, all at once. Nothing like the piercing aquamarine of his deceased wife.
His throat constricted unexpectedly. “It looks delightful, Henrietta.”
“Do you think so?” She turned over her shoulder, a playful smile on her lips. He admired her endurance, for any other woman who had suffered what she had this day would barely have been able to muster a chuckle. And yet, here Henrietta was, brimming with cheerful defiance. She would not be broken by anyone or anything. He realized it more and more with every passing day.
Indeed, now that he thought about it, there had been a great deal of spunk in the way she had penned those letters to the medical institutions. To have been so bold… at first, he had been angry, but now he felt a glimmer of admiration. Yes, it had irked him, but that did not mean he could not change his mind with regards to the situation.
