Page 68 of The Moonstone Major
When they got to the village, she had him pull up in front of Mrs. Halsey’s tearoom in the hope of finding Lady Dowling. She walked in and cast Mrs. Halsey a bright smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Halsey.”
“Good afternoon, lamb. Where are the girls today?”
“They’re off to the Falmouth fair with Lord Burness and my sister. You should have seen them giggling with excitement. Has Lady Dowling been in—” The breath caught in her throat when she noticed the lady in question seated at her usual corner table, only this time she was not alone.
Fionn was with her.
Both of them were lost in conversation and hadn’t noticed her walk in.
“Lamb,” Mrs. Halsey said gently, “he only came in a few moments ago. She is the one who called him over.”
The kind words did little to cheer Chloe.
Fionn was seated beside the dazzling Lady Dowling, who had lifted the veil from her hat so that all could see just how beautiful she was. And he appeared to be rapt, because he was paying no notice to anyone else.
Now, the pair of them were laughing over something witty Lady Dowling must have told him.
Chloe did not know what to do.
She suddenly felt inadequate and stupid, a young woman not even in her first year out while Lady Dowling was older—but not old enough to look wizened—and far more sophisticated.
For that matter, so was Fionn quite sophisticated in his own way. Perhaps better described as streetwise and experienced.
She was nothing more than a naïve ninny.
Her only claim to womanly experience was one kiss that Fionn had been reluctant to give her. How could she march up to them as though nothing mattered when suddenly everything mattered?
She did not know much about Lady Dowling other than she had been born a commoner and married quite well, if one’s standard of measure was rank and fortune. Love was irrelevant in such arrangements. Her husband had been a minor lord, but still of sufficient rank to be addressed as such, and thereby making her a lady.
This was the sort of woman Fionn could marry…one who was elegant but not raised in elegance. One who may have once made a meal in a kitchen or hung out a wash or swept a room. One whose fortune was modest and who did not have siblings married to dukes or marquesses whose wealth he could never match.
This was whom Fionn would feel comfortable marrying.
Chloe clutched her stomach as it began to twist painfully and churn.
She had to leave. It hurt too much to watch them together and know they were a perfect fit.
She started for the door to make her escape, but Fionn caught up to her before she had taken two steps. “Chloe,” he said softly, “I was hoping I might catch you here.”
“You knew I was at the cottage.”
“Yes, but you always come into Mrs. Halsey’s shop with the girls at this hour. I didn’t think you would stray from that routine. Why did you turn away and suddenly walk out?”
“You seemed busy. I did not want to disturb you.”
He glanced around. “Where are the girls? Did you not bring them with you?”
Of course, he did not know Cormac and Phoebe had taken them to Falmouth. She quickly told him of the fair. “So I was able to work without distraction on those papers.”
“That is fortunate. Let’s finish with Lady Dowling and then I’ll walk you back to my office so we might speak privately.” He held out his arm to escort her to their table, his smile utterly charming as he addressed the merry widow. “I was just about to mention to Lady Dowling how much my men enjoyed her company at the last recital.”
Chloe nodded. “This was my purpose in coming into town. I was hoping to find you here. Would you mind helping me out again? Of course, I will completely understand if you cannot. It must be quite an imposition, and you needn’t feel any obligation whatso—”
“It would be my pleasure,” Lady Dowling said.
“Oh.”
“I haven’t been in company in a very long while, and I think it is time I started. How kind of you to think of me, Lady Chloe.”
