He saluted her with his free hand and they meandered their way up the street to a general shop called Griffin’s Emporium. He opened the door for her and the little bell above jangled as they stepped into the warmth. She tugged her gloves off and tucked them into her reticule as she looked around her with a smile.
It wasn’t a fine shop like those in London, but it was lovely and cozy, with a wide variety of items within. She moved through the tables of merchandise, fingering a rim of a hat here and picking up a book there.
She felt Ewan watching her, but she refused to return the gaze. Let him watch. Let him long as she was longing.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” came a voice behind her. She turned to watch a thin man come out from the back of the shop. He had a curling mustache and a hawkish stare that flitted from Ewan to her as he came with hand outstretched to Ewan.
“What an honor to have you here, Your Grace. An honor!”
Charlotte pursed her lips slightly at the slavish tone of voice the man used. Deferent to the point of boot licking, and the same one she’d heard used toward her brother, her father, her husband and all her brother’s friends over the years. Some with a title might like it, but it had always been like nails on a chalkboard for her.
Ewan scribbled something on his pad and the man glanced down at it. Charlotte thought she caught a tiny sniff of disgust that he hid as he said, “Ah, Lady Portsmith, I’m Martin Griffin, proprietor of this shop for nigh thirty years. His Grace says that you are here looking for a few items for the holiday. A last-minute shopper, are you?”
Charlotte tamped down her ill feelings about the silly man and forced a smile. “His Grace is absolutely correct. I’m actually finished with my own holiday shopping, but I’ve made some promises to the tenants on the estate that I cannot break. I’m here on the search for dolls and wooden swords. Might you have a few?”
The man’s forehead wrinkled as if he didn’t understand. “For the tenants, you say?”
She nodded. “Yes. There are five little girls and three boys.” She sent a glance to Ewan. “That is correct, isn’t it? I haven’t missed anyone?”
He signed, “You are right.”
She smiled back at the shopkeep. “I hope you have what I need.”
He fidgeted slightly. “Well, I have a few. Let me go in the back and see how many of each I am in possession of.” He gave Ewan another look before he scurried to the back of the shop.
Charlotte pursed her lips as she slid back toward Ewan. “Griffin is…”
“Ridiculous,” Ewan signed with a sigh. “A leftover from my father’s time. He bends over backward, but the deference is false. But his is the general shop, so I keep up the relationship as best I can.”
“A challenge, I’m sure,” she signed, and moved closer to him. It was impossible not to. He was a draw she couldn’t ignore. “Thank you for taking me here and enduring him.”
Ewan held her stare for a beat, two, too long for her not to see the longing in his eyes. The same longing called her back to him, trembling for his touch and his kiss and everything else he claimed must be withheld.
“My lady, it does seem I have what you require,” Mr. Griffin said, his voice tight behind her.
She forced herself to break away from Ewan and smiled at the pile of toys Mr. Griffin now had laid out on the counter before him. “Oh, excellent, I’m so pleased,” she said.
“What else can I get for you or for the duke?” the shopkeep asked.
She was about to close out her order, but before she could, Ewan’s driver stepped into the shop. “Beg your pardon, Your Grace, but Anthony Alberts just hailed me down on the street. He wished to speak to you about the horses.”
Ewan nodded and turned back to Charlotte. “Alberts is bringing in thoroughbreds this summer and he’s considering putting them up in my stable. I need to speak to him,” he signed.
“Of course,” she responded as she reached out to squeeze his hand. “Take your time. I’ll shop a little more here. You can fetch me when you are finished with your business.”
He offered her a grateful smile, then followed his driver out the door. Charlotte turned back to Mr. Griffin. “I’ll look around, if that suits you.”
The shopkeep was watching her through a narrowed gaze, but immediately nodded. “Of course, my lady. What an honor to have the Countess of Portsmith in my shop.”
Charlotte barely held back a sigh as she began to peruse the variety of items around her. Most were not anything she could use or gift to anyone else, but she kept her eyes on the merchandise so as not to encourage a depth of conversation with Mr. Griffin.
That did not seem to stop him from edging around the room as she did, staying in her line of sight at all times. She was ready to simply leave and go to the milliner’s when she caught sight of an item in the jewelry case that made her stop. It was a silver notebook, one that could be refilled with paper. The detail work on it was lovely, with swirls and crests.
“May I see that piece there?” she asked, pointing at the item behind the glass.
“Certainly, my lady,” he agreed, and slid the case open to pull the notebook out. “Sterling, you know. A fine item. Fine enough for any lord or lady.”
She ignored his prattling and picked it up. It was a rather large piece, but would likely fit perfectly in Ewan’s hand. She opened it. There was paper inside and a small space for a pencil.
