A silence followed his monologue, becoming awkward as it appeared to take up the spaces around them. Emily searched her mind for something to say, but it was as if all her words had fallen out leaving her skull cavernously empty. No wonder he thought her boring; she couldn’t even respond to commonplace remarks about a child. ‘How lovely,’ she managed belatedly, her skin heating at the banality of her comment. ‘I should leave you to your…’ She waved her hand around, still not sure what he was doing hiding in the corner of the shop.
‘Please, do not go. I need…’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘I would be very grateful if you could spare me a few minutes of your time. I could use some advice.’
Freddie’s shoulders were tight; it had cost him to make that request of her. The overconfident, ever-smiling, constant demander-of-attention, Frederick Dashworth, wanted her help because he was in asituation in which he was unsure of himself. The knowledge did not make her feel as triumphant as she would have imagined. Instead, something inside of her softened; a truly alarming reaction she would ignore for now and stamp down on later. She couldn’t afford to join the Freddie Dashworth Appreciation Society and become like most other women, who found his particular insouciant charm appealing. He would lord that over her and…
‘Miss Hawkins.’ Freddie was smiling at her, some of his ever-present mischief returning to his gaze. She realised she had been lost in her thoughts and not answered him again, but he didn’t seem to mind the fact that she was lost for words for a second time in this unusual encounter. For once, he wasn’t teasing her, another alarming development.
‘I do apologise, Mr Dashworth. I was woolgathering. With what can I help you?’
‘I need to buy some clothes for my niece. She arrived with some, but goodness knows how long she has been travelling, no one seems able to tell us. It must be a while for she has outgrown most of them and even those she can fit into do not look like they will last for much longer.’
This was something with which Emily could help; she was rather good with a needle, even if she did say so herself. ‘You will need to have her measurements taken.’
‘I know but…’ he ran his fingers through his hair ‘…she is very shy, she will not even talk to any of us, and I do not think she will like to be poked and prodded. Surely, I can just buy something?’ He gazed around the room as if expecting a perfect, fully formed dress to leap towards him.
‘I do not think you can avoid it, I am afraid. However…’ She stopped herself. Did she really want to offer further help? It would mean more time spent with Freddie and historically that had not been a good experience for her. She doubted he wanted it either.
‘However?’ he prompted.
Freddie’s niece had three other uncles; perhaps she wouldn’t even have to see him if she followed through with her offer. Freddie would probably prefer that too. Decided, she continued, ‘My oldest sister’s daughter may have some clothes we can lend you for the time being. I can always alter them if they are a little big.’
‘You would do that?’
How typical of him to doubt her. ‘Of course I can.’
His lips broke out into a full grin, amusement flashing in his eyes. ‘I am not questioning your abilities. You are good at everything and I am sure you excel at this too.’ He didn’t give her time to dwell on his unexpected compliment. ‘I meant…’ He rubbed the back of his neck and she was sure she heard a small groan, although she couldn’t think what he had to be grumbling about. ‘I meant that, although our families are neighbours, we do not… my family has not been… I have not…’ A flush was creeping up his neck, spilling across his cheeks; Emily watched its progress with fascination bordering on impoliteness. He cleared his throat. ‘I am aware that the Duke of Glanmore is not the friendliest of acquaintances and doing something like this for us would be very generous.’
Ah, yes, the Duke of Glanmore, the man with whom her mother was desperate to form some sort of contact. So fiercely keen was she, she would settle for a nod of the head from the esteemed gentleman, but she was rarely granted even that. It was one of her mother’s many gripes, that though they may live next to the Duke of Glanmore, they were not part of his inner circle. Emily wasn’t sure he had one. To gain an audience in his house would be a triumph and might even give Emily some reprieve from her mother’s constant acerbic comments. Not that that was the reason behind her offer. She hadn’t even thoughtabout the Duke of Glanmore when she mentioned the dresses, but now that she had, there could be an unexpected benefit for her.
‘Think nothing of it. I should be glad to do it.’ She wasn’t entirely sure she was telling the truth now, but this whole exchange was so strange. The fact that she and Freddie Dashworth were having a pleasant conversation was so fantastical as to be a dream. ‘When will you need them?’
‘As soon as you are able, if that is not too much of an imposition.’
‘Emily, where are you, girl?’
Emily jumped as her mother’s shrill voice cut through the air. ‘Here, Mama.’ She stepped forward, away from Freddie so that her mother could see her but not him.
‘What are you doing there?’ Emily opened her mouth to respond but her mother carried on. ‘We don’t have time for your daydreaming. Come along.’
Without waiting for her to respond, her mother swept out of the shop, Emily’s sisters trailing after her.
‘I will call with the dresses tomorrow morning, if that is acceptable. I will need some time to gather them together.’
‘That would be perfect,’ Freddie murmured. ‘My family and I will be most grateful.’
‘Until tomorrow then,’ she said, moving to follow her family.
‘Until tomorrow.’ But Freddie wasn’t looking at her; instead, he was frowning in the direction in which her mother had disappeared.
Chapter Six
Contrary to Emily’s hopes, her mother’s lectures did not diminish at the knowledge Emily had secured an invite into the duke’s home. She’d been shocked to learn that Freddie had been in the dressmaker’s earlier, but she had forgotten that in the excitement of the invitation to step foot in Glanmore House. If anything, her mother’s lengthy discourses became worse, the more enthusiastic her mother became; by the time they had finished their evening meal, she had become incredibly shrill. It was lucky Emily was used to ignoring the majority of her mother’s comments, because she was able to close herself off from the worst of it. Just the thought of her only unwed daughter getting within the same house as such an eminent title was enough to send her mother into a whirlwind of excitement. The evening plans were cancelled and an endless array of outfits and hairstyles were tried, the best of Mary’s daughter’s discarded clothes selected and inspected. By the time Emily crawled into bed, her scalp aching from the bruises from the many pins that had been pushed into her hair, she was seriously regretting ever making the offer to Freddie.
She wished Eloisa were in London so that she could send her best friend a message about everything that had happened over the last few days. Admittedly she would leave out the trespassing and the strange urge to run her fingers along the length of Freddie’s jaw. The notewould be all about her mother’s behaviour and how over the top she was being. Knowing she could make light of her mother’s actions, that her friend would understand and would somehow find amusement in the situation would see her through the day, but it was not to be. Eloisa was away for at least another week, visiting an aunt in the country, and Emily had never missed her more.
By the time the next day arrived, her mother was vacillating between predicting this was the moment Emily’s life changed forever and lamenting the fact that the duke would see her daughter for the lover of books she was and that would ruin any hopes of Emily ever making any match at all.
‘It is unlikely that you will catch the attention of the duke,’ said her mother as they prepared to leave, ‘but do try not to talk to him about how much you read. No man wants a bluestocking for a wife.’
