“I suppose kid is more practical.”
“We have a very fine kid suitable for the most formal of occasions.” Mrs. de Roye placed such a pair on the counter. They were wondrously soft and the leather so thin that it might tear while they were pulled on. Eliza had no doubt that they were expensive for they were as soft as butter.
“Perhaps the velvet,” she said, as if indecisive.
A pair of velvet gloves was presented for her perusal. “We also have some long satin gloves for evenings, and short leather gloves that are more sturdy than kid. Irene would be happy to show you all of the options that you can better decide…”
“But I wished particularly to consult with you.”
Mrs. de Roye hesitated in the act of summoning a clerk. “Indeed?”
“Indeed. This is most awkward.” Eliza lowered her voice. “I wondered whether you might have read the newspaper this morning.”
Mrs. de Roye shook her head in confusion. “Is there a reason for your query?”
“There was an advertisement for ladies this morning.” Eliza dropped her voice yet lower. “One recommending a book.”
“Did it have a title?”
“The Ladies’ Essential Guide to the Art of—” Eliza looked left and right, then leaned across the counter to whisper the last word. “Seduction.” It seemed to hang in the air, a sibilant word that was utterly inappropriate in decent society yet would be heard a mile away even if whispered.
“I cannot imagine why you should ask me about such a volume,” Mrs. de Roye said, but her gaze slid away, as if she knew more.
“Because there are no details of who to contact,” Eliza continued in a rush. “And you seem to know all the details about everyone in town.” Her voice faltered. “I thought you might know more or who to ask to learn more. It was a remote hope, no more than that, and certainly no reflection of your own reputation.”
Mrs. de Roye pursed her lips and rearranged the gloves, adding to Eliza’s conviction that she did know more. “Rather an unusual volume for you to seek, Mrs. North.” The proprietress met her gaze steadily. “I had understood that you were widowed.”
“I am.” Eliza lifted her chin. “But I am hopeful that I will not remain so.” She swallowed. “And I would like to be more informed when next I…”
“I understand completely, Mrs. North,” Mrs. de Roye said briskly, her decision evidently made. “I will make an enquiry for you, though I must warn you that my efforts may prove fruitless.”
Eliza understood. Not only did the decision rest in the hands of another, but not every request would be greeted favorably. She could only hope for the best.
“I certainly appreciate your assistance, Mrs. de Roye,” she said with a smile, then tried to tip the balance with her purchase. “I will take the kid, thank you. They are exquisite.”
Nicholas had left Haynesdale rather abruptly, using the excuse of too much brandy, but knew Haynesdale was not entirely fooled. He showed an uncharacteristic haste in returning to his aunt’s home in Berkley Square, in the hope of winning Helena’s agreement to his scheme before his aunt made her appearance for the day.
Two could argue with Aunt Fanny more successfully than one.
He had no sooner stepped into the foyer than he knew he had failed twice in rapid succession.
“I will not hear of such scandalous behavior on your part,” Aunt Fanny said primly and there was no doubt to whom this comment was addressed.
A man of less fortitude might have surrendered the field and retreated, but Nicholas was not yet prepared to wave the white flag. He took a deep breath and continued into the breakfast room, casting his hat and gloves on the table in the foyer as he passed.
“Nicholas!” Helena exclaimed with a delight that proved she hoped he would take her side. “Just the person I most wished to see!”
“There is a portentous change,” he grumbled, accepting her flurry of kisses.
“You have not shaved as yet,” she said, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed him. “Are you only just returning from your night’s revels?”
“I am and since each family can only suffer one scandalous member in their company, you will have to behave.”
His aunt snorted at that and Helena grimaced before returning to her place. Nicholas bowed to his aunt, whose lips tightened as she surveyed him. She sniffed elaborately, then returned her attention to her breakfast. “I should not have thought there was any brandy left in London at this point,” she said, her opinion of that more than clear.
“Very little, in fact. I was obliged to seek a measure at the home of the Duke of Haynesdale.” Nicholas helped himself to toasted bread and sat down at his customary place. He heard his aunt’s sharp intake of breath and felt his sister watching him avidly.
“Is he as handsome as they say?” Helena asked in a whisper.
