Page 24 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
"Mr Bobitol's, just off Cavendish Square," he said curtly to his driver, wondering if the man had noted that once again Raff had been sent away by Lady Emily. With a flick of the driver's wrist, the four bay geldings took off at a light trot into the busy, London traffic.
When they reached Argyle Road, just off Cavendish Square, Raff realised there was a slight hiccup in his plan to accost Lady Emily—he had no idea what time she would actually arrive at Mr Bobitol's, if at all.
Hecouldenter the plumassier's, and waste the poor man's time pretending he was searching for a ribbon, or a bauble, for his niece, but he had no idea how long he would be waiting for Lady Emily to appear. She could be hours, he thought with a frown. Added to this conundrum, was the fact that shopping for trimmings for bonnets was not a very ducal pastime, and if Raff were to while away hours inside the shop, tongues would surely wag.
He could instruct his driver to circle the Square, but the thought of revealing that he was here merely to wait until he sighted Lady Emily, was rather alarming. His servants, though loyal, were as prone to gossip as any other servants were. His whole staff would soon hear that the duke had been skulking about London like a rejected, lovestruck fool, waiting for his bride to be to make an appearance.
Luckily, as the carriage turned onto Argyle Road, Raff spotted two familiar figures bustling through the door of Mr Bobital's—Lady Emily and her maid.
Upon sighting them, Raff rapped on the roof of the carriage with his cane, indicating that he wished the driver to stop. The carriage drew to a halt and, without waiting for his footman, Raff hurried out onto the busy street.
The window of Mr Bobitol's was filled with a dozen bonnets, adorned and bedecked with the latest trimmings; flowers made from silk, ostrich feathers, and ribbons of every imaginable colour. Raff paused for a moment to survey the display, hoping that, to an outsider, it would look like something had caught his eye as he passed by.
What do you care what an outsider thinks, a voice in his head growled, you're a ruddy duke. Still, despite this affirmation of his status, Raff's heart hammered nervously in his chest as he pushed the door of Mr Bobitol's open. Inside the shop was cramped, and Raff's eyes were immediately assaulted by an explosion of colour, lace and ribbons.
He halted, allowing his eyes to adjust to the kaleidoscope of colour, and as he paused, he caught a snippet of the conversation between the proprietor and his betrothed.
"Really, my Lady," Mr Bobitol was saying in a manner more imperious than Raff liked, "This year's fashions lean toward subtle adornments; I am not sure that I can, in good conscience, sell you so many silk flowers for just one bonnet."
"Oh," came the disappointed, apologetic response.
Upon hearing Lady Emily's defeated reply, Raff clenched his jaw in anger; how dare this puffed-up plumassier speak down to his intended? Drawing himself up to his full six foot two inches, Raff stomped across the shop floor toward the counter.
Mr Bobitol was showing Emily a rather insipid looking daisy garland, when he caught sight of Raff. The shop owner's pudgy face paled at the sight of the towering duke, and whatever he had been saying died in his throat.
"Your Grace," Mr Bobitol stuttered, "I did not see you come in."
"I know you did not," Raff replied evenly, "If you had, you would not have spoken to my betrothed in such a condescending manner."
"I-I-I-" Mr Bobitol stuttered.
"Now," Raff continued, glancing down at Lady Emily who was staring at him in surprise, "I heard you tell Lady Emily, that she would be better off buying less trimmings for her bonnet—is that correct?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Mr Bobitol replied, swallowing nervously.
"Big mistake," Raff growled, grabbing Emily's hand in his, "Huge. This lady is to be the next Duchess of Kilbride, and once we marry she will dictate fashion—not the other way around. Now, if you'll excuse me, we're going to find another shop in which to buy my intended silk flowers, and it will be that shop which profits from the association with the Kilbride name."
With one cool glare at Mr Bobitol, Raff spun on his heel and made for the doorway, near dragging Lady Emily along with him. Once outside on the busy street, he looked down at his bride to be, expecting fully to see her gazing up at him in gratitude. Instead, Raff found his betrothed stood before him, gloved hands on hips, glaring daggers at him.
"That was most unnecessary, Your Grace," she said with a sniff.
"I rather think it was most necessary, my dear," Raff replied mildly, "You are to be the next Duchess of Kilbride—you need to start demanding that people treat you accordingly."
"Mr Bobitol was merely trying to be helpful," Lady Emily argued, her green eyes flashing with annoyance.
"He was not helping you by speaking down to you so," Raff countered, "Nor was he helping himself, by refusing to sell you what you wanted. Now, come with me, and we shall find a shop that will happily provide you with all the ruddy accoutrements you need for your bonnet."
Once again, and with no thought to propriety, Raff grabbed Lady Emily's hand, and marched her down Argyle Road, until they found another plumassier. Its interior was, blessedly, less of an assault on the senses than Mr Bobitol's, and Raff stood patiently by as an excited Lady Emily chose a dozen silk roses, in shades of pastel, and delicate sprigs of gypsophillia cleverly fashioned from wire and Buratto lace.
"Please send Lady Emily's bill to my address," Raff called, once Emily's purchases had been carefully wrapped up.
"Oh, Your Grace, I cannot—"
"Yes, you can," Raff cut Emily off before she had a chance to finish her sentence, "I have never seen anyone more excited by the idea of trimmings for a bonnet. It's utterly enchanting."
"Well, I have never bought trimmings before," Lady Emily replied, a blush staining her cheeks.
"I find it hard to believe that a lady of your standing has never bought trimmings," Raff replied with surprise, "It seems to me that bonnets are all young ladies speak about."
