Page 27 of The Counterfeit Scoundrel
“Just a tad but I was able to clean it off easily enough. It seems she’s as interested in you as you are in her.”
“I have no interest in her, and if she has any in me, she has a rather odd way of showing it.”
Louisa smiled. “When I was younger, much younger, anytime a lad tugged on one of my plaits, I immediately knew he fancied me. Although I would say your maid was demonstrating something a little more. Jealousy. Perhaps she noticed the heat in your eyeswhenever you look at her. Have you been giving her attention?”
“Not here. But we did spend some time together last night at the Fair and Spare.”
“Did you kiss her?”
“No.” But he’d wanted to. Desperately. More than that, he’d wanted to carry her up that final flight of stairs.
“Whyever not?”
“She’ll have to appear in court, and there can be no implication of bias.”
“Did you enjoy her company?”
Immensely. Rather than answer he shrugged. “With any luck, she’ll report the kiss to your husband, and you’ll be well on your way to a divorce.”
After taking a sip of her wine, Louisa shifted her gaze to the hearth. “I know I should be ecstatic at the prospect, and yet it makes me rather sad.”
A small droplet of chocolate rested on her shoulder where it curved into her neck, and if that skin belonged to Marguerite, he’d move over to the settee and lick it off. Why did he have to view everything in the context of what he would do if it involved her? It was deuced irritating.
He shook off thoughts of the confounding woman and studied Louisa’s sorrowful, mournful expression. “When you first came to me, I told you that I didn’t need to know why you sought an end to your marriage.”
“I remember. I was both relieved and disappointed. It made it easier not to worry that perhaps you’d decide the fault was mine. But then I’d also thought itwould be nice to have someone help me carry the burden.”
“If you want to tell me...” He let his voice trail off, the invitation there if she cared to accept it. He’d come to like her, to appreciate her, and to take a personal interest in helping her.
She swallowed more wine, glanced around. “I’ve spent two months in your bedchamber. It seems I should be able to tell you anything.”
“You spent the time on my settee, not in my bed.” They shared the settee only until the tray was delivered.
“True. But there is a kindness in you that I think you are uncomfortable acknowledging.”
“We’re not going to talk about me, Louisa, but I’m more than happy to listen if you need that weight lifted.”
She nodded. “We’ve been married ten years. It wasn’t a love match. We both knew it. He needed a wife, and I needed security. He’d had great success with his shop, which was sectioned off into all these different departments. He was going to open another. My brother, his solicitor, had invited him to dinner. Things progressed from there. Six months later, we were wed. Over time, I did come to love him. He’s an incredibly kind and generous man. Three years ago, I finally got with child. But six months later, I lost it. He took it rather hard. I knew I’d disappointed him. He hasn’t come to me since. All he does is work. But if he is rid of me, he can start over and perhaps find happiness, begin a family.”
Bishop got up and joined her on the settee, ignoringthe chocolate that had dripped on the brocade as well as on her shoulder. He took her hand. “I’m sorry for what you went through. I suppose sometimes for the wounds to heal, we need a fresh start.”
She nodded. “He and I.”
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll ensure that you get it.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, Daisy was surprised to discover she hadn’t been immediately sacked—after having the audacity to pour chocolate over Bishop’s head. But oh, it had felt so damned good to do so.
Upon awakening, she’d considered giving her notice and simply walking out, but didn’t want to sacrifice her position until she was certain she had obtained enough information for Mr. Parker. Arranging to secure that confirmation had taken a great deal of pleading and a lie—
“My aunt is terribly ill. I’d like very much to call on her this afternoon.”
“You’ve only just begun working here, Daisy.”
“Yes, Mr. Perkins, but I’ve finished all my chores for the day and will return before I have to cart up a tray this evening.”
Perkins had finally consented, which was the reason she now found herself in Mr. Parker’s office on the top floor of his most recently opened shop, which housed several different departments, each handling specific merchandise.
