Page 65 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“It makes me long to take you to a ball,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. All he could do was picture her in a fine gown of that fabric, with her radiating smile cheering the hearts of all those who laid eyes upon her. Himself included.
“Well, fortunately, there is one to be held in the gardens of Scampston Hall at the end of next week. Friday evening, if I am not mistaken,” Mr. Fordham replied brightly. “If you would like, I can have my seamstress put a splendid gown together for you by then?”
“In such a short space of time?” Henrietta gasped.
“Of course. We do not often get such charming young ladies in here, and my seamstress would be delighted to create something that is not to be worn by a gentleman.”
She looked at Ewan with a childish expression of glee. “Might you take me to this ball, my Lord Marquess?”
How am I to refuse such a face?
“I shall, My Lady.” He turned to Mr. Fordham. “I will have my man send through my wife’s measurements, so that your seamstress may make the gown in time. Would that suit you?”
“Certainly, My Lord.” Mr. Fordham bowed his head.
“He will also bring remuneration, if you send a bill to the Old Bell Inn.”
“I thank you for your business, My Lord.”
“It is my wife you should be thanking,” Ewan replied, with a wry chuckle. “It would appear that I can deny her nothing.”
He laughed in response. “That is always the way with fine young ladies. In all my years in this position, I have seen the same thing occur, time after time. Although, if it is not impolite of me to say so, you two are quite the handsomest couple I have seen in a long while.”
Henrietta blushed.
“I believe it is my wife who improves the general good looks of all those she surrounds,” Ewan insisted.
“There is a radiance to the young lady, that is a certainty,” Mr. Fordham commended. “Now, I shall see to it that your gown is ready for the ball at Scampston Hall. If you ask Mr. Chambers up at the Old Bell, he will undoubtedly arrange tickets for you. I am surprised he has not already mentioned it, for it is always quite the event. A final hurrah before winter sets in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fordham, I shall.” In truth, it sounded like precisely what the two of them needed to take their minds off the recent unpleasantries. It was easy to forget that they were newlyweds on their impulsive honeymoon.
I will have you remember that you are a young, vibrant, merry young woman, Henrietta. You deserve some joy in your life. I regret that I have not brought you enough in our short span of time together.
In that moment, he resolved to do better. She had not asked for this, but it was his duty to chase away regret.
* * *
After finishing in the shop, they made their way down the street to the bakery that Mr. Booth had spoken of. Henrietta followed her husband, her arm looped casually through his. She did not know where the rest of the afternoon would take them, but it was already getting rather late.
However, the bakery gave no further clues as to what Mr. Booth had been up to. Instead, it simply validated the timeline that he had given. The comely, plump woman behind the counter had attested to Mr. Booth’s visit and reiterated his statement about the box of custard tarts.
“Even so, this does not mean he is innocent of today’s incident,” Ewan said, as they departed the bakery and headed further into the center of town.
“You believe he may have accomplices?”
Ewan shrugged. “It is difficult to say. Although, when you and I saw him on the promenade, he was speaking with a gentleman, was he not?”
“Indeed, he was.”
“Then we cannot rule it out.”
Henrietta felt a flicker of anxiety as they turned down the street that led to the postal office, her heart beginning to pound as they neared. She had visited it barely two hours ago and was sure to be recognized if she set foot inside. She felt no shame in what she had done, but she did not wish to reignite Ewan’s ire towards her.
“The postal office, my Lord Marquess?” she said nervously.
“Yes, Mr. Booth told me this was his last errand. I must be assured that he was here, as he said he was.”
Realizing she could not escape the situation without alerting Ewan’s suspicions, she tipped the edge of her hat down over her face and followed him inside. She kept her head down the entire time, as Ewan went up to the counter and spoke with the postmaster on duty.
