Page 44 of The Duchess’ Modiste

Lord Gloucester took hold of the hand that rested on his arm and lifted it toward his lips. Even through the lace gloves, Rosaline could feel the heat of his palm against her own.

His touches should not be such a thrill!

Yet they were a thrill to her, one she couldn’t deny. When he lifted her hand higher and placed his lips to the back of it, giving it a tender kiss, Rosaline couldn’t fight the smile that took up place on her cheeks. All the worries she’d ever had of what Lord Gloucester thought of her as a seamstress vanished.

He likes who I am.

“They were looking at you, Miss Baker, for all the right reasons,” his voice was soft as he drew her forward once again, drawing her toward her father’s shop. “I hope this will not be the last promenade we share?”

“I would like to see you again as well,” Rosaline confessed, thrilled when she saw the earl’s smile, which matched her own. Then his smile faltered as they stopped in front of her father’s shop.

“That is quite a glare,” he remarked. Rosaline angled her head to see her father serving a customer in his shop, but he had broken off mid-conversation to glower at the two of them.

“That is simply my father’s look of surprise,” she said hurriedly.

“Hmm, shall I believe you?” Lord Gloucester said playfully.

“Choose to,” Rosaline countered. “I’m his daughter. He is undoubtedly going to be shocked.”

“Until next time then, Miss Baker.”

“Next time.” She felt that thrill pass over her as she curtsied and he bowed, at all times keeping his hand in hers. As he left her, his fingers brushing hers in the goodbye, she giggled under her breath, overcome by an excited energy.

At the end of the road, Lord Gloucester turned to wave, then he was gone, disappearing round the corner.

With that same energy, Rosaline hurried into the shop. She bounced on her toes, so keen to talk to her father of all that had happened, but he had returned to his customer, and in place of the scowl was his usual charm.

“It is a fine choice you have made, my lady.” Alfred was laying out some silk on the counter.

“Before I make my purchase, I would like to consider it for a short while. I will come back tomorrow if I wish to buy,” the lady said, already retreating.

“Oh, but I may not have the silk tomorrow. It is selling fast!” Alfred had to practically call to the lady as she hurried out of the shop, making the bell above the door ring. As the door closed, her father’s charming smile faltered, and he laid heavy hands down on the silk. “Not a sale all day,” he muttered to himself.

“Father, father! What a story I have to tell you.” Rosaline hastened forward, keen to distract her father. She hated to see him worried about the shop, and the familiar crease was back on his brow. Hoping to distract him with good news, she rested her hands on the silk on the counter. “Oh, it is beautiful.”

“Yes, clearly not beautiful enough,” he harrumphed, looking to the door through which his customer had hastily departed. “Care to tell me who that gentleman was, Rosaline?”

“You do not need to sound so worried, father.” Rosaline giggled. “That was Lord Gloucester.”

Alfred’s hands tightened around the silk.

“What did I tell you about him, Rosaline? Such affluent gentlemen have no need to give attention to ladies like you. If they do, their mind is only on one thing.” He snatched the silk out from under her hold. Despite his sharp movements, Rosaline’s mood could not be spoiled.

“I hardly think Lord Gloucester is so ill intentioned.” Rosaline shook her head, still bearing that smile. “Would he take me on a promenade for all the ton to see if he was the sort of man that you believe him to be?”

Alfred folded up the silk and crossed the shop, placing it down on a nearby table with such harsh movements that the table shuddered. His quick hands went to the other items on the table, hurriedly tidying things that did not need tidying. Cravats were straightened, silks were laid flatter, and ornaments were shifted at angles.

“His interest will fade. Please, Rosaline, for my sake, do not place your hopes on a man that will not give you anything to hope for.”

Rosaline was not defeated as she leaned against the counter. She thought of how easily she and Lord Gloucester had laughed together. She had been intrigued to hear about the writing circle he was a part of, and the stories he loved to hear, and equally, that he had been fascinated to hear of her work.

“He introduced me to friends of his on our walk, father,” Rosaline said with a contented sigh. “Now, who would do that if he intended to discard me tomorrow?”

Alfred sent her a resentful glare, then he did a double take. The strength in that stare was so sudden, it was the first thing that made Rosaline’s smile falter.

“What is it?”

“That gown . . .” He stepped away from the table and gestured to what she was wearing. “Where did you get that?”

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