Fancy smiled softly, imagining her sister-by-marriage had spent a good deal of time balancing books atop her head because she possessed one of the finest postures around. “No, I was only jesting. I think I have my walk down pat. I didn’t practice anything at all. I simply read.” She thought about mentioning Mr. Sommersby, finding out if Mick knew anything at all about his tenant, but she wanted to hold the gentleman close, keep him just for herself. She also wanted to avoid an inquisition. How had she met him? How well did she know him? Was he trustworthy? How did she know? And it wouldn’t do at all for it to be known she’d spent time in his company without a chaperone, although she could effectively argue she’d been watched over by the staff at the Jolly Roger. He might even take it upon himself to send Mr. Sommersby packing if he thought the man would distract Fancy from reaching the goal her family had set for her.
“You will have little time for reading once your Season gets underway,” Aslyn said. “I’ve been making a list of the women on whom we’ll make morning calls after your introduction into Society. And I’ve no doubt some will make calls upon you. I’m wondering if it might be better if you spent your days here, since we’ll let it be known that ours is the residence where you will take callers. We’ll certainly want the gentlemen to visit you here, so you can be properly chaperoned.”
“You’re optimistic. I think it’ll work exceedingly well if you simply send a servant over to fetch me when I’m needed.” She didn’t want to give up any more time in her shop than she had to because a day would arrive when she’d have to give it up altogether. “Perhaps I’ll even entertain a few in the shop. I could serve tea in the reading parlor.” It was a room above the shop set aside for people to lounge about in comfortable chairs and read to their heart’s content. “It would only require having one of your maids come over to prepare tea in the kitchen in my lodgings.”
“I suppose that’s an option. Shall we see how it goes?” Which meant Aslyn didn’t much like the option. “And, of course, there are always the gardens here.”
Behind the hotel, away from the street, Mick had created an oasis of greenery where his guests could take tea, read, or stroll about. It might be more relaxing, less taxing, to take her callers there. If she had callers. She was striving to keep her expectations modest and realistic so as not to be frightfully disappointed when her entrée into Society happened at a snail’s pace.
With her fork, she poked at her buttered eggs. Suddenly nothing before her seemed appetizing. Perhaps because the thought of gentlemen calling on her reminded her of Mr. Sommersby’s admonishment.It is a dangerous thing, indeed, to fall in love with a man before ever having met him.
Mr. Sommersby’s reaction had taken her aback. He’d sounded almost jealous, although certainly she’d misread that. They’d only just met, and he hadn’t given any indication he had anything other than a friendly interest in her—if even that. Perhaps it was simply that he held a disdain for the aristocracy. He might be a gentleman of means, but if he was living in this area of London and not Mayfair, then his means were no doubt quite modest.
As she’d told him, she was not in love with the Earl of Rosemont. The letter merely served as an example of what Fancy hoped to acquire. Still it had been embarrassing to be caught with it in her pocket. “Aslyn, are you acquainted with Lord Rosemont?”
The widening of her eyes indicated she was surprised by the question. It was one Fancy should have thought to ask sooner since Aslyn had once inhabited the same world as the earl.
“We were introduced, yes, but only in passing. We never spoke at length. I suppose you’re thinking of the letter his wife arranged to be printed in theTimes.”
“I know it’s silly to place such stock in a letter a woman wrote on her deathbed, but that’s the very reason I find it so compelling, so persuasive—that she would go to such bother before leaving this world. He must be an extraordinary man.”
“One would think. However, knowing he would never be a suitor, I paid very little attention to him.” She gave a light laugh. “Although to be honest, I saw most men as only a potential dance partner and little else because I always expected to marry Kipwick.” The Duke of Hedley’s son and heir. Mick had stolen her away from him, originally with the intention of ruining her, but then she’d conquered his heart.
Fancy watched as Aslyn reached over and threaded her fingers through Mick’s. He brought them to his lips and simply held them there, meeting her gaze, his warming. “The best laid plans and all that.”
Aslyn arched a delicate brow. “Are you referring to yours or mine?”
He chuckled low. “Both.”
Fancy knew any further conversation on Lord Rosemont would not be had now as the couple were becoming lost in each other. She folded her linen napkin and set it beside her plate. “I should be off.”
Guiltily, Aslyn looked at her. “But you hardly ate.”
“I had more than enough. Thank you for inviting me to breakfast. Don’t bother getting up, Mick.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “I’ll see myself out.”
As she was walking from the room, she heard soft murmuring, a sigh.
Once she left Mick’s apartments and was out in the hallway, she glanced over at the glass double doors with “Trewlove” etched in them. She could see Mr. Tittlefitz, Mick’s secretary, already at his desk. She wandered over, pushed open one of the doors, and stepped in. He immediately jumped to his feet.
“Miss Trewlove. What a delightful surprise.”
He was one of the most positive people she’d ever met. Having been born a bastard and raised in the rookeries, he had every right to be bitter, but instead always reflected an optimism that made him a pleasure to be around. “I was just visiting with my brother. Based on the whispering I heard as I was leaving, I think he might be a while before coming in.”
Mr. Tittlefitz blushed profusely, so much so his freckles were fairly obliterated. “He has nothing pressing on the schedule this morning.”
She suspected it wouldn’t matter what he had on his schedule. Pleasing his wife would always come first. She could only hope her own husband would be as attentive.
“I’ve had no luck finding someone to help you with the lessons on the nights I can’t be there.” She and Mr. Tittlefitz volunteered their time two nights a week in order to offer free reading classes to adults who’d had no or very little schooling. She felt guilty that he would have to carry the brunt of the workload once her Season was fully underway. She’d approached some people about filling in for her, but few had the time to spare when it didn’t put coins in their pockets. She couldn’t ask her married siblings as they would be at the balls. Her brother Beast was making himself scarce of late.
“Do not worry yourself overmuch. I shall have no trouble at all seeing to matters by myself. Although your presence will be sorely missed.”
“I fear, Mr. Tittlefitz, I’m going to wish I was helping with lessons rather than being the center of attention at a ball filled with toffs.”
“You shall easily win them over, Miss Trewlove. I’ve no doubt on that score.”
“You say the kindest things.”
“I would not say them if I did not believe them to be true.”
