Why had he done that?
Perhaps it wouldn’t rain tomorrow after all. Or snow. What would an entire afternoon be like in the company of a man such as Thomas Findlay? She’d find out soon enough. She just wasn’t sure if she was dreading doing so or anticipating it.
What was the matter with her?
What is a Home?
“Mighty generous, I declare, for a duchess to go driving with one such as he.” Millie merely lifted her chin at Loretta’s disapproving glare. “Well youarea duchess.”
“And he is a guest,” Loretta reminded her maid for the second time this week. “And he’s asked my opinion. I ought to at least be able to give that. He’s considering purchasing the property. Rather smart of him really, to seek another assessment.”
“Well he didn’t get filthy rich for no reason, I suppose.” Millie tutted as she added one last pin to her mistress’ hair.
Loretta gazed back at her reflection, jolted by the dull lavender of her dress, rather than the black to which she had grown accustomed. She wasn’t sure what had prompted her to leave it off today. Perhaps holding the baby yesterday. Perhaps it had been the prospect of being of some value to another human being.
Or going driving, with a gentleman.
A handsome gentleman, at that.
She shivered. All the times she’d dismissed him as uncouth, as ungentlemanly even.
Likely he’d not notice what she wore. He simply wanted her feminine opinion, in lieu of Cecily’s absence.
And why would she care if he noticed? She would not!
“You’ll need your coat and a warm hat. And your muff.”
Loretta glanced out the window. The same clouds which had hung heavy in the sky for days now remained on the horizon. They’d yet to produce either rain or snow.
The clock on the mantel showed nine o’clock exactly, the time he’d said he wished to leave.
Loretta wished Millie had taken more time with her hair, or her dress even. She mustn’t appear too eager. She needed to wait another ten minutes or so before going down.
Because she was not.
Eager, that was. She was merely prompt.
She’d already placed any necessary items for the trip into her reticule. Money. Comb. A small vial of perfume, and the small portraits she carried of Lucas and Harold.
Perhaps she should wear some jewelry. A broach?
She fumbled through her jewelry box but couldn’t decide on anything specific.
The clock now read three after.
“I’ll need my coat now,” she told Millie. She didn’t feel like delaying this morning.
Thomas jerkedhis head up when he heard rustling at the top of the ornate staircase. He’d expected to wait longer for her. Up to an hour even. Gratification coursed through him at her timely appearance. Something else sped through his veins when he realized she was not wearing the ever present black.
Pleasure?
He’d best not comment upon it. She likely felt self-conscious.
When she reached the bottom landing, she nodded at him in greeting. Upon first meeting the lady, he’d been annoyed by her aloof gestures. Strangely enough, he appreciated them more lately. He’d begun to see more to her than the arrogance her bearing suggested. It was as though the woman inside of her was fighting to break out. Would she allow it?
“Duchess.” He grinned back at her serene façade.
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Mr. Findlay,” she returned.
