Lady Annabelle Lindlow clutched the rose quartz in her gloved palm as she stepped into the jeweler’s shop. She’d insisted on having the stone placed on a chain while her cousins purchased paint supplies and visited the haberdashery.
Annie smiled at the jeweler as she approached the counter. “Good day, Mr. Farthington.”
Mr. Farthington returned her smile, grey eyes sparkling. His face was creased with wrinkles and his hair had long ago turned white. He pushed his spectacles further up his nose, then said, “Good day. How may I be of help, Lady Annabelle?”
Annie unfolded her fingers to reveal the rose quartz. “I would like to have this put on a chain. However, I do not wish to alter the stone in any way.”
Annie and her cousins, Eva, Lilli, and Henrietta, had all agreed it would be best to keep the stone exactly as it was. They did not wish to see it cut or drilled into. Not because they feared it would affect the magic of the quartz, but because they felt it was too special to Gran. A testament to the love she and Grandpa had shared. It would be a tragedy to see it changed, according to Lilli, and the rest of them quite agreed.
“Would it be possible to put it on a chain without altering the stone?” Annie asked.
Mr. Farthington leaned over her hand and looked closer at the stone. He reached for Annie’s treasure, then paused. “May I?”
“Oh yes, of course,” she said, stretching her hand closer to him.
He picked the stone up and turned it over in his weathered hand. “Rose quartz.”
Annie nodded her head, even though it was more of an observation than a question.
He held the pink stone up, allowing light to bathe the quartz and shine through. “I can nestle it in silver or gold, then put it on a chain. Which would you prefer, Lady Annabelle?”
“Hum… Gold, I believe. Will it take a terribly long time?”
“Not at all, my lady. Perhaps fifteen, maybe as much as thirty minutes. By the time you finish your shopping, I will have it ready.”
Annie grinned, then said, “If you do not mind, I think I shall wait here.”
“Very good. I will work as quickly as possible.” He turned and started toward the back of the shop.
“No need to rush,” Annie called after him. While she wished to see the stone on a chain, she had no desire to put undo stress on Mr. Farthington. Her remaining in the shop had far more to do with a lack of enthusiasm for the haberdashery than a reluctance to part with the quartz. Annie much preferred to spend her time looking at baubles and jewels. She’d always been partial to things that sparkled and shone.
Annie turned her attention to the counter where glistening rows of rings were displayed on a bed of black velvet covered by display glass. She resisted the urge to press her palms to the glass as she admired a glistening ruby set with diamonds. Mama owned a similar one Father had gifted to her upon Annie’s birth that would one day be passed to her.
“Which one has you so enraptured?”
Annie jumped at the unexpected intrusion and pivoted to face the voice, her hand flying to her chest.
“Dear me, I did not intend to startle you.” A tall man with laughing cerulean-blue eyes and ink black hair said.
She lowered her hand from her chest and smiled. “I am quite recovered now.”
“And I am glad of it.” He returned her smile. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am The Duke of Rutland.” He gave a bow, then met her gaze. “And you are?”
She knew the name—more importantly, knew his reputation. She could not help but acknowledge the inappropriateness of their current interaction, but given her knowledge of the duke, albeit limited, she was not at all surprised by his behavior. Regardless, she could not give a duke the cut direct.
Inhaling, she dipped a curtsey and said, “Lady Annabelle Lindlow.”
“I will call you Lady Ann,” he pronounced as he captured her hand, then pressed his lips to her knuckles. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Even through her glove, Annie felt the heat of his lips. An odd warmth spread through her and for a moment she felt almost faint.
Ridiculous.
He released her hand, and she shook off the odd sensation. Finding her tongue, she rebuked the duke, saying, “I will refer to you as Your Grace, and you must call me Lady Annabelle.” She’d not become his next conquest.
How ridiculous of her. She’d only just met the duke and was not likely to see him again. She did not move in his circle. Besides, she was not what one would consider a diamond. She was passably pretty, but not the sort a duke would set his eye on.
“Perhaps you could help me, Lady Ann. I am here to purchase a necklace for a special woman and believe your input would be most invaluable.”
