Page 83 of Harpy of the Ton
It was Lawrence.
He called out, his deep voice treacherously familiar, and the woman turned toward him, her lips curving into a beautiful smile.
“My Lawrence!” she cried. “I’ve missed you. My bed’s in need of a good warmin’.”
Bella’s chest tightened at the joy in his eyes, and the smile he rarely turned on her.
She fisted her hands, fighting the urge to swing her basket at her deceitful husband. But what would that achieve? Further humiliation as the population of Brackens Hill witnessed his desire for another?
Sophie’s attention was firmly on the ribbons in the window. Bella grasped her arm and pulled her inside the shop. Then she stared out of the window, making a pretense at studying ribbons while Sophie squealed in excitement at the wares on display.
Lawrence was still talking to the doxy. Then he took her by the elbow and glanced over his shoulder, and they hurried inside the inn.
Together.
“Mrs. Baxter, is there anything I can help you with?”
Bella turned to see Mrs. Hall standing beside her.
“N-no, I’m just with Miss Ryman here.”
“Ah yes, Miss Ryman. How are the wedding preparations going?”
“Very well, Mrs. Hall,” Sophie said. “I just need some ribbon to trim my bonnet. Uncle Ned said I can choose anything I want.”
“How aboutyou, Mrs. Baxter? Will you be needing a ribbon?” Mrs. Hall glanced at Bella’s gown, and sympathy shone in her eyes as she studied the frayed neckline and the poorly concealed mend on the sleeve.
“Do buy one!” Sophie said. “If you took that pink one, we could make a sash for your gown. You want to look pretty for my wedding, don’t you? Mr. Baxter would like that.”
Bella glanced at the ribbon. Such a rich shade of pink—the same color as the roses she’d brought inside from the garden that had long since faded. But a woman with three children to feed had no business wasting her housekeeping on ribbons.
“I can’t…” Bella hesitated, aware of two pairs of eyes on her.
I can’t afford it.
What would Lawrence say if she wasted his money on such frivolities? It wasn’t as if a ribbon on her gown would make him appreciate her—not when he had all the women of the village eyeing him with appreciation, including that painted beauty at the inn.
“I can’t indulge in such frivolities,” she said, tilting her chin.
Sophie’s eyes widened. “There’s no need to be so uncivil to Mrs. Hall. Her family’s lived here for hundreds of years, whereas you—”
“That’s all right, Miss Ryman,” Mrs. Hall said, placing a light hand on Bella’s arm. “Mrs. Baxter meant no harm, did you, dear? It must be tough living in a new place where everybody knows everybody else, and they’re all eager to poke their noses into your business. We don’t all have to like the same things, do we?”
“No,” Bella said, glancing at the ribbon.
Mrs. Hall plucked the ribbon from the display and clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“Oh, that Rosie!” she said. “I told her to put the new ribbons on display—notthis.”
“It’s very pretty,” Sophie said.
“Aye, but there’s no more of it. I asked Rosie to discard it.” Mrs. Hall held it out to Bella. “I don’t suppose you’d have a use for it, would you, Mrs. Baxter?”
“Mrs. Hall, I couldn’t possibly—”
“Yes, youcould, dear,” Mrs. Hall said. “I was only going to throw it away. You’ll be doing me a service.”
Bella glanced at Sophie, then shook her head.
