The door opened just then, and Ralph's faint voice reached her over the breeze. Harriet jumped, heart in mouth. Mrs. Painter stood between her and the door, blocking her view of who had entered.
“Yes, milord! Welcome to Mrs. Painter’s dressmaking. How may I be of assistance?”
“There you are, Lucy! I thought I had lost you in this damnable crowd,” boomed Jeremy.
Harriet's knees almost sagged with relief. She peeked around Mrs. Painter to see Jeremy striding towards her. As he reached her, he took her hands, smiling at her fondly.
“I am sorry to have left you. I bumped into an old friend of mine, Ralph, whom I think you've met. He kept me talking. He is shopping on Oxford Street this morning for his sister. A special treat, apparently.”
Harriet frowned.
“A special treat? Is it her birthday, perhaps?”
Jeremy's face said it was as much a mystery to him as to her.
“He would not say. He can be dratted tight-lipped at times when he wants to be. Anyway, I said we would be in here a while. He's likely to be up and down Oxford Street for the rest of the morning.”
Jeremy's eyes held hers for a long moment, communicating much.
“Well, I can think of no finer place to spend my morning,” Harriet replied, smiling brightly and hoping it looked convincing.
“My fiancée, Lucy Buxton,” Jeremy said to Mrs. Painter, “requires a dress for a formal occasion. No expense to be spared. I should like your full attention and not to be disturbed. How much to close your shop for the rest of the day?”
Mrs. Painter's eyes lit up with avarice, and she went to some lengths to assure Jeremy that no one would be given admittance while Harriet was choosing her material. She hurried away to lock the door and close the blinds over the shop windows.
Harriet rose to tiptoes to whisper into Jeremy's ear.
“What are you doing? I cannot afford to have a dress made.”
“I can,” Jeremy whispered back.
“No, I will not allow it,” Harriet said furiously, “I will not be beholden to you.”
“Fine. Then let us step out of the shop and into your brother,” Jeremy hissed back.
“What is he doing here! He is supposed to have left for Bristol by now!”
“I do not know. I was telling the truth about him wishing to have a dress made for you. That is what he told me, but he would not say why. The woman with him is one Henrietta Phail, who is sister to a wealthy young lord whose father owns land in the highlands of Scotland. She is a friend of your brother's and supposedly here to advise him on his choice. Why, I do not know.”
Harriet frowned, glancing towards the shop's large front window. There was no sign of either Ralph or the lady he was with.
Could she be his paramour? I have never heard him speak of a woman of whom he is particularly fond.
“Oh, what does it matter!” she exclaimed, suddenly feeling under unbearable pressure, “I cannot let him see me! What am I to do?”
“Weare to stay here for two hours. Ralph said that he and Miss Henrietta are going to elevenses at half past eleven with Lady Caroline of Somerset. If we remain out of sight for two hours, we can slip away once we know they have left.”
He sounded calm, and his words brought some reassurance to Harriet.
“Regardless, I cannot accept such a lavish present from you,” she insisted.
“Why-ever not? Besides, we must give this good lady some recompense for sequestering her shop for two hours. She will be losing money otherwise.”
Harriet had to admit the rightness of that. But it did not sit right with her that she should be even more indebted to this man.
He has saved my life and comforted me when the carriage crashed and I was distraught. I feel in his debt already.
That moment brought a sick feeling to her stomach. The fear of the carriage lurching and breaking around her was a visceral one.
