“Yes, ices,” said Adam, confused about what sort of game they were playing.
Laurence rotated his hand in a circular motion, prompting Adam to continue.
“And we can go to the theater!” he said, warming to the theme.
“I’m guessing that, as your girl, you’d ensure she’s properly outfitted for such occasions? The duchess keeps Makeblythe in a very particular sort of maid’s uniform these days that would no doubt raise eyebrows in public.”
Adam salivated, recalling just that uniform and how good she felt when he got under it.
“Focus, man,” said Laurence under his breath.
“I’d make sure that Lucy is turned out splendidly on such occasions.”
Laurence raised his brows.
“With new dresses, hats, and all the underthings,” he said, projecting his voice in the direction he believed her to be hiding. “I own shops; I can outfit her in anything she likes.”
“Shoes.”
Adam bolted from his seat. “Lucy?”
Her small voice came from nearby, and Adam’s heart leaped at finally finding out that she was alive, somewhat willing to speak to him, and apparently desirous of footwear.
She didn’t reply, but he broke into a grin at hearing her voice for the first time in months. “How do you fare, Lucy?”
She didn’t respond, but he knew he had at last broken the wall between them.
“I’ll have your things delivered — including the shoes — and perhaps we might enjoy a day in the park. I could row you around the Serpentine and take you for an ice. When is your day off, love?”
“Sunday.”
Her voice came from the same place, and it took everything not to advance on what appeared to be the Astwell still room and capture her lips. But he was a patient man, and he meant to repair things with Miss Lucy Makeblythe.
“Sunday, then,” he said. “I’ll collect you after church?”
She didn’t respond, but Laurence’s smile as he rose from the table said that Adam was well on his way to a very pleasant interlude with the duchess’s lady’s maid.
“I’ll see that the packages arrive tomorrow,” said Adam loudly as he walked out the servant’s entrance after finally gaining entry.
Laurence saw to the door himself and called out as Adam nearly skipped up the steps to the street.
“You’ll take care with her, won’t you?” Laurence asked, pensive.
“Of course,” said Adam, amazed that his friend, once notorious for philandering, was now protective of women down to his wife’s lady’s maid.
“She’s had a rough go since you last saw her. She’ll need gentle treatment.”
As Adam walked away, he wondered what had given Lucy such a terrible time, when he was the one doing all the suffering.
Chapter 2
Lucy Makeblythe regarded AdamChevestrer warily across his carriage. He was turned out splendidly in shoes with a mirror shine, a shirt with a modern oxford collar, and the finest beaver top hat she’d ever seen. The whole combined to emphasize that he was a man of fashion — read: relentless change — and wasnotto be trusted.
She tried not to notice how handsome he was. Tried and failed.
They’d had a nice day in the park and she certainly liked her new togs, but she needed to return to being a maid while he returned to whatever he did to make money (business of some sort) and whatever he did for amusement (fucking other women, likely). Lucy did not plan on being his amusement again.
“Where’d you grow up, Luce?” he asked while looking out the window.
