When he turned to face her, she tried to seem disinterested. But the moment their eyes met, their gaze heated up. A part of her regretted not having put on a finer gown, but then again, she did not expect to entertain him this afternoon. She quickly reminded herself that her clothing choices had absolutely nothing to do with him, nor did she have any inclination towards impressing him. Purposefully, she remained at a distance from him.
“I fear that I have interrupted your pleasant afternoon with a friend,” he said, gesturing at the window with a slight tip of the head.
He admitted watching her.The nerve.
“Indeed, you have,” she confirmed, pursing her lips. “As I do not wish to keep my dear friend waiting, perhaps you would like to share how may I be of service to you, since you have come calling upon me unannounced.”
“You know why I am here.”
Of course, she knew. She held her breath refusing to say anything. Her body was strung tighter than a violin string. She could not tell what would come next, but she could tell that she was not ready for it.
“We have not discussed the terms of the testament,” he added, as if she required more explanation. Fire lit up in her eyes in response.
“We have discussed it,” she said. “I have not changed my mind.”
“I know what you are afraid of,” he suddenly said.
She could not believe his words. How could he possibly know such an intimate thing about her? The window into her soul had always been barred off to him. He never had the ability to uncover it and see for himself. She never allowed her fears to be etched upon her face, like many other people do. Hers was a face of smiles, of gratitude. As for anything deeper, not even the late earl himself knew the depth of her sorrowful childhood.
He obviously took her silence as confirmation, so he continued. “You must think that I will not take your voice into consideration when choosing a husband for you.”
She thought about it for a moment. Thatdidcross her mind. Although she would easily rectify that.
“I assure you that the man who is to be your husband would be your choice as much as mine,” he assured her. Strangely, she believed him, although she had no reason to. Then, he ruined it all again. “Someone who will take good care of you.”
Her nostrils flared at the insinuation that she needed to be taken care of. What hurt the most was the knowledge that he was right. “I am not a plant that needs to be watered, or even worse, an animal to be tended to.”
“That is not what I meant,” he replied instantly. She even thought she saw him flinch at the way she gained the upper hand. She was no damsel in distress if that was what he considered her to be. “I am merely saying that you alone cannot possibly take care of my father’s estate. I mean no offense, but it requires a man’s hand, a man’s knowledge of business affairs. You would not know where to start. The estate is crumbling. It is in desperate need of repairs. Would you even know who to hire for the job? Would you know how much is a fair price to pay? Would you– “
“Fine, fine,” she cut him off. “You have made your point.”
“What I am trying to prove to you is that I do not wish to prove myself right here or prove you in the wrong. We must work together for the common goal.”
She stared at him in disbelief, in shock, in horror. For, he was completely right. She would not be able to make heads or tails of that situation, and she would hate to find herself in it. The estate would be best left in his hands, to do with it whatever he wanted to. It would be on his conscience. As for her, all she needed was a small sum to look after herself.
“All right,” she finally acquiesced because there was no other way. Even this way was questionable.
Chapter 4
Alexander had certainly been to a fitting for a suit. For himself or with a friend, it was certainly something he had done. But he had never been to a fitting for a dress.
He was still sitting, even after what seemed to be a small eternity of waiting for Marjorie to step back out, in front of him, and show him what the ladies had wrapped her in. If they were planning to attend their first ball in search of a husband, then Marjorie needed to dress the part. The gown he had seen her in the previous two times would simply not do.
He heard some commotion, and he looked in the direction of the door that kept Marjorie’s changing session private. Initially, she objected the idea of buying new clothes, but of course, he would not have any of it. She finally agreed to come here, to Mrs. Ashbury’s Salon, where Mrs. Ashbury had once fitted his own mother for some of the loveliest gowns he had seen as a little boy. They still rested in a forgotten closet. That was soon where the earl’s old clothes would also go, unless Alexander managed to come up with a more practical way to dispose of them. His mother’s gowns, however, he was unwilling to part with. They were a part of his childhood, and he still remembered his mother kissing him goodnight, all dressed up in her finest gowns, ready to attend the ball of the evening with her husband. She smelled of lemongrass and rose water, and it would forever be the smell he would connect with the first love of his life.
“What do you think?” A voice suddenly interrupted his trip down memory lane. “I fear the sleeves might be a tad bit too puffy.”
When Alexander lifted his gaze to meet hers, he was struck with awe. The sleeves of the peach-colored gown she was wearing were indeed puffy. However, it only worked in favor of evoking images of the Renaissance and the rebirth of the human soul. The dress was belted beneath her bust, accentuating her figure to perfection. The dainty line of little pearls sparkled in the soft glow of the light that oozed from the window. And her fiery red hair stood in stark contrast to all that.
“I…” he started, feeling his lips drying up.
There was so much of her skin he could see. The length of her arms. Her swan-like neck. The delicately teasing swell of her breasts that rose out of the soft fabric of the gown. He could not take his eyes off her. He felt like he was seeing her for the first time. In fact, this woman before him, he had truly never seen her before. She had been hiding inside those simply grey and blue dresses that failed to do her beauty any justice.
“Theyaretoo puffy, aren’t they?” she repeated, with a pout he found irresistible. This forced his gaze up from her body to her face.
“No,” he smiled. “It is quite… nice.”
Nice?A small voice mocked him. Out of all the adjectives he could have used to describe the beautifully haunting figure he had before him, the only word he could produce was nice.For shame.He was not there to compliment her. He was not there in any function other than as a guardian, who had taken it upon himself to help her, just like his father did. Whether or not he found her beautiful in that dress was utterly irrelevant.
