Page 14 of The Earl's Hired Bride
“I will, I promise. And thank you so much for taking Mama in. I’ll be so much easier knowing that you are looking out for her and Jasper.”
“It will be quite a nice change,” her mother piped in. “Madame has asked me to look over her books and help out in the showroom. You know how much I’ve missed running the shop, my dear. It will be as if I’m having an adventure as you are having yours.”
“Yes—and I will be able to see you when I come for selections and fittings—but most importantly, at the end of it we’ll have enough money to do as we please.” She reached for her hand. “How does a little ribbon shop in Edinburgh sound, Mama? You’ve talked of going home again. You could have the run of a smaller enterprise—and only embroider when you wished to.”
“Oh!” Her mother’s eyes shone. “Isn’t that a fine idea?”
“Don’t s’pose you’ll need a delivery boy?” Jasper interjected.
“Oh, no.” Meeting her mother’s eye, Emily shook her head. “We’ll be looking for a fine young apprentice, though, to learn the running of the business.”
“Me?”
“Who else?”
Jasper swelled with pride.
“Emily, it sounds grand, but are you sure—”
“I’m sure, Mama.” Emily refused to think otherwise.
“I want you to be careful,” her mother said, her tone going low and urgent. “Enjoy yourself as you can, but remember that this is only temporary. I don’t want you to grow too used to such a fine lifestyle—or for such company—and pine for it when it’s gone.”
Her heart softened. Emily knew what went unspoken beneath her mother’s words. Quiet longing for someone who was never coming—Emily knew what that looked like, because she’d seen it in her mother’s face over the years. “Don’t fret,” she reassured her. “Lord Hartsford is a gentleman and will treat me fairly. And I am harboring no girlish dreams of becoming a countess. I have promised to adhere to the letter of our agreement and so I shall.” She smiled gently. “It’s a business arrangement, nothing more.”
“Of course.”
“Here is where we’ll stop,” Madame Lalbert said, looking out the window. “Jasper, you see her safely to the warehouse, then stay close and watch over her until his lordship arrives. Come straight back, then. We’ll wait for you.” She handed Emily her portmanteau. “We’ll expect you to be a frequent visitor at the shop.”
“I feel a veritable mania for fashion coming on,” Emily laughed. “Goodbye, Mama.” She kissed her soft cheek. “I will see you very soon.”
“Take care, my dear,” her mother whispered. “Please, take care.”
Emily kissed her again and descended from the coach. She had to fight back tears as she and Jasper set off, but it grew easier as they moved away. She could do this. She was happy to do this and secure a better future for them all.
“What if he sees you, Em?” Jasper looked worried. “The old gentleman? What if he sees you at one of them balls?”
“That’s the beauty of it, Jasper. Even if the old Duke spots me across a ballroom, he won’tseeme. He’s looking for a girl in the street, not just another debutante. The girl he’s looking for dresses in shapeless sacks and covers her hair with a cheap scarf. Instead, I’ll be dressed in pastels, one more young miss in a sea of them. It’s the perfect place to hide!”
“If you say so.” He didn’t seem convinced. “He doesn’t seem like a dim one to me.”
“Well, he was never bright enough to wish to recognize Mama as one of his own, so I don’t set great store by his judgment.” And that was irrefutable, in her opinion. Anyone who ignored the chance to be a part of her mother’s life was foolish beyond redemption.
Jasper gave in as they grew near the shipping office. Emily gave his hand a quick squeeze, and entered. The clerk in the front room merely shrugged when she asked if she might wait for his lordship, before going back to his work. Emily took up a position at the window to wait—but it was only minutes before the earl drew up in a gorgeous, lacquered landeau.
She watched him climb down, mutely delighted that she could feast her eyes for a moment, unnoticed.
He was handsome. She’d discovered that in the carriage yesterday. She’d gone to her bed late and her last conscious thought had been of his brown eyes and how they had looked fathoms deep in the dim light, of the chiseled jaw and the proud nose, a shade too long—just long enough to be interesting, not enough to ruin his pleasing profile.
He looked different today, she noticed as he paused for a word with the servant who climbed down from behind. Polished.
Yesterday he’d been the slightest bit disheveled—his hair mussed and his neck cloth crooked and his eyebrows slightly wild and askew. Testimony, she supposed, to the level of agitation he’d been driven to.
Today, though, he looked . . . like an earl. Carved from years of privilege. Consequence and history stretched out behind him and eased his way ahead. He moved into the shop with smooth grace and utter confidence.
She must remember that.
The clerk scrambled to his feet. Hartford gave him a nod, but his gaze fixed on her . . . in surprise and pleasure.
