Page 42 of Love Abandoned

Chapter Eighteen

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.

—Wordsworth, “The Solitary Reaper”

Elizabeth had notspent the evening moping. While disappointed, she was also filled with hope. She’d had a remarkable day with Richard, much like their early days. Except where once they’d dreamed of living their lives together and of children to come, yesterday they’d talked of their lives and their sons. He’d allowed her leeway to choose William’s pony and had recalled their secret rendezvous at the tea shop.

William had chattered happily throughout dinner and made no reference to his father’s absence. She’d decided to dine, as usual, in the tea room. She hadn’t wanted to sit in the large dining room with silence gaping around them, making her day seem small. For it was not small. She may have convinced herself she was content with tiny steps, but the big step yesterday had been an incredible lift to her spirits.

She’d sent a footman to see if a fitting could be arranged tomorrow, and he had returned with a lovely note from Madame Moreau saying, of course, she could make time. So Elizabeth had written notes to Sophia and Catherine to see if they’d like to join her. She could use some advice in choosing fabrics and styles. She’d been somewhat discouraged when Richard had not returned by the time she’d headed for bed, but she’d already received both Catherine’s and Sophia’s replies, and that had cheered her greatly.

Richard had already come and gone when she arose for breakfast. He’d left no note, although Hastings indicated he’d gone to chambers. It made good sense, since he’d missed a session yesterday. She was glad to have the company of her two friends today.

“Countess Tessaro has arrived,” Hastings said, interrupting her perusal of the books in the library, still on the lookout for something for William. “She sent her man in. She awaits in her coach.”

Clarkson assisted Elizabeth, and Gordon walked her out to the street before helping her into the carriage. Sophia kissed each cheek before Elizabeth sat beside Catherine, who unlike the brash countess, more conservatively pressed her hand in welcome. Sophia refused to adhere to English rules of engagement. She said they were too cold for a hot-blooded woman.

“Thank you for joining me. It has been so long I am not sure I am capable on my own.”

Catherine looked her up and down. “Your frock and pelisse are lovely and cannot be so old.”

Elizabeth had worn her walking dress from yesterday so the modiste would see a style that suited her. “It is my only new one in some years, and I had it made by a seamstress in the village. Not so overwhelming as Madame Moreau’s.”

Sophia laughed. “Madame Moreau’s is like drinking from a fountain. So much, eh…” She looked at the ceiling, then snapped her fingers. “Materiale,” she said triumphantly. “The easiest of words are the hardest to find sometimes.Mi sento stupido,” she said, shaking her head in mock exasperation with herself. “I agree your dress is the most becoming I have seen you wear for some time.”

“Richard noticed it too. He has encouraged me to indulge.” She was still heartened that he had noticed and approved.

Sophia raised her eyebrows but only commented that he had good taste.

“I must confess to selfish reasons, once again, for joining you.” Catherine ran a hand over her midriff. “I would like some more liberal but beautiful dresses before I leave. I know it’s foolish. No one will see me at Woodfield, but…”

Sophia leaned forward and waggled her finger at Catherine. “You have earned your pleasures,mia amica. You must always indulge yourself. And thatmagnificohusband of yours. It will be worth seeing his pleasure, no?”

“That is it exactly. You always know how to put into words what I cannot express myself,” Catherine said, blushing prettily.

“It is because I am a woman of the world,” Sophia said. “I am like the big cat in a menagerie, and you are but a kitten.”

“And what am I?” Elizabeth asked, enjoying the lively repartee.

Sophia pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, contemplating the question. “I believe you, too, are a cat. Maybe the beautiful leopard? You never change your spots, but you have changed your strategy and are ready to pounce.”

Elizabeth laughed along with her friends, but inside she quaked with excitement. Sophia was far too astute. Getting Richard back in her bed would advance their refreshed friendship to a new level, and she was determined to make it happen sooner rather than later.

Sophia entertained them with stories about the gala she’d attended at Carlton House, and before long, they were standing in front of Madame Moreau’s. Several doors down from the fashionable and always busy Madame Devy’s, it was an elegant shop with a large room in back that housed more fabric and several workers. A young maid greeted them with a curtsy and ushered them into one of the two small front rooms. Fashion plates were strewn on the table, and Sophia grabbed a few before sitting beside Catherine on a lush burgundy settee. Elizabeth sat on the edge of one of two chairs, too eager to relax.

“Mesdames,” Madame Moreau said as she sailed into the salon and curtsied. Tall and elegant, she was a walking advertisement for the design and quality of her clothing. “It is a pleasure to see you,” she said in her thick French accent. “Countess Tessaro, it has been far too long.”

“Sì,”Sophia said. “But I have needed nothing from you.”

Something flashed between the two women, but Elizabeth could not say exactly what. She had an odd sense she was missing something. But whatever it was, it was gone quickly.

Madame Moreau turned to Elizabeth. “It is good to see you again, Lady Thornwood. I feared you had abandoned me.”

“Oh no,” Elizabeth said, feeling a little guilty. “I have been hiding in the country and have had no need for a new wardrobe.”

“I do,” Catherine peeped, waving her hand before running it over her midsection. “Desperately.”

---