Page 38 of Tempting the Earl

“While we wait for my girls to return, why don’t you step onto the platform here, Miss Morgan, and I’ll begin your measurements.”

“I’m sorry, Madame, I’m not here for a new gown.”

“But of course you are. You’re new in London and surely you’ll be attending the engagement celebration for Miss Chadwick and the deliciously mysterious Lord Harte,” she noted with a sly glance to the young bride-to-be. “You must desire a new gown for such an event. And I have just enough time to get it made.”

“Well...” She truly hadn’t intended to buy a new evening dress, but the spirit of the day had gotten to her and Madame was very convincing. “All right, but it’ll have to be simple so I might have another opportunity to wear it once I return to Dumfriesshire.”

“Simple, of course!”

With efficient speed, Madame had Ainsworth measured then sent her to a stack of fashion plates to see what style or design she might like. Lily’s fitting took only a short time longer and was mainly delayed due to the many gasps and sighs from the ladies in the room. Caillie declared the pale pink gown to be fit for a princess while Emma noted how elegant, beautiful, and bold her little sister looked.

As the sisters shared a quick embrace, Ainsworth heard Mrs. Bentley whisper to her sister, “I’m so proud of all you’ve overcome, Lily. You deserve all the love in the world and a lifetime of the greatest happiness. I hope to God your gentleman knows how special you are.”

“He does, Emma,” the other woman murmured gently before they pulled apart.

Ainsworth glanced to Caillie, who was looking back at her with the widest, goofiest grin. She couldn’t help but smile back, then chuckled. What a bunch of sentimentalists they all were.

Next was Emma’s turn on the platform.

As soon as Madame settled the gown of sapphire blue on the woman’s slim frame, she made a few tsking sounds and clucked her tongue.

“Mrs. Bentley, I’m afraid I’ll have to let the waist out a bit. It seems my measurements may have been off,” she added, catching Emma’s eye with a quick questioning glance in the mirror.

Emma’s expression softened as she assured her, “I’ve no doubt your measurements were absolutely correct. Rather it’s mine that have changed.”

The modiste gave a knowing smirk and Ainsworth lowered her chin to hide her own smile, but it took Lily another moment to understand Emma’s implication. Then she gasped loudly and rushed to embrace her sister once again.

“Oh, Emma, how wonderful. I’m so excited for you and Roderick. He must be thrilled.”

“He definitely is.”

“Why?” Caillie asked, lifting her head from her book. “Why should he be excited? What’s happening?”

“Don’t worry, luv,” Ainsworth said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the lovely moment. “I’ll explain later.”

Emma turned to her then to say, “I hope you don’t mind, Miss Morgan, if I come to you for advice on occasion. I’m afraid I don’t know any other experienced mothers.”

Ainsworth stiffened as the warmth faded from her cheeks. She could have sworn Mrs. Bentley was aware of Davina’s sad fate. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I’m not...actually Caillie’s mother.”

“Of course you’re my mother, Worthy.” Caillie’s voice was firm and somewhat incredulous as she interjected from across the room. Closing her book with a thud, the lass gave Ainsworth a stern scowl. “I ken Davina birthed me and she’ll always have a place in my heart. But in all the ways that matter, Worthy, you’re my mum. And you’re the best I could’ve asked for.”

Ainsworth held the child’s stare without blinking—in part because it was the only way she could hold back the tears burning her eyes, but also because she was more than a wee bit astounded by the conviction in her lass’s voice.

Although she’d always considered Caillie to be her daughter in every way but one, she’d never voiced that feeling out loud. She’d never wanted to supplant Davina in the lass’s eyes or claim a place that wasn’t rightfully hers. But hearing Caillie repeat the sentiment Ainsworth had carried in her heart for so many years was simply...the greatest gift she ever could have received.

Before she could catch her breath, Caillie bounced to her feet and rushed into her arms. They held each other as tightly as they used to when the lass had still been small enough to climb onto Ainsworth’s lap. It was some time before they loosened their grips on each other with watery laughs and looked around to see that the other ladies had left.

Ainsworth was overwhelmed with gratitude for their sensitivity and discretion while still feeling a bit swept up by the entirely unexpected revelation that had just occurred.

With a deep breath, she took Caillie’s sweet face in her hands and brushed the lass’s tears away with her thumbs as they both grinned goofily at each other.

“Well, that was rather dramatic and wonderful,” she said softly.

Caillie giggled. “You ken it’s how I like to do things.” Then she took Ainsworth’s face in her own small hands. “If I’d kent you believed otherwise, I’d have said something sooner.”

“Dinnae fash yerself,” Ainsworth replied firmly. “You’re right. I shoulda kent all along.”

“Aye,” the lass said before she tilted her head. “I hope I may still call you Worthy. It suits you so verra well, after all.”

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