Hand on the door, she stomped the snow off her shoes before she entered the shop. Her toes were frozen, which she realized now that she had overcome being so upset. Her slippered shoes were also ruined, and she dreaded the thought of walking back to Ambrose Hall without boots.
As much as she never wanted to return and face Melcombe, or worse, the servants, Althea really had no choice since all her belongings were there.
But she didn’t want to think about that now. It was clear she couldn’t live there any longer and it was likely she’d get sacked the moment she returned anyway. Hopefully, she could plan a time to return when Melcombe was not at home so that she’d not have to face him again.
Would it be possible to avoid him from now until eternity?
Althea couldn’t even put the blame on Lord Melcombe. She was the one who had entered his chamber. She’d stood in the hall and admired his form. He had noticed and asked her inside.
She should have apologized and declined. Because she took those steps, it was her fault.
“Goodness, what are you doing out in this weather?”
Althea glanced up when Monique came forward.
“I wasn’t really paying all that much attention when I left the manor.”
Monique closed the door behind Althea. “I should say not. I was just about to close up as I didn’t expect any customers on a day like today.”
Althea couldn’t look Monique in the eye. She wasn’t exactly a customer, but maybe she could order a gown. A simple one so her time was justified, and Monique’s wasn’t wasted.
“Well, come inside and warm yourself.”
Althea was ushered to the center of the room and stopped before the stove.
“Tell me what you are looking for.” Monique studied her, a frown on her face.
Althea glanced around the shop. There was a small case containing gloves, books of patterns set on a table, and stacks of cloth in a back corner away from the light of the windows, not that they need worry about sunlight today. The snow seemed to become thicker by the moment. “Um, I think, yes, I think I would like a new dress.”
Monique arched a brow as if she didn’t believe her. “Very well, shall we look at some fashion plates?”
Althea sat in the chair and picked the first book up off the table. It held drawings of different ball gowns. Would she ever wear one again?
No, she shook the thought from her head. Not so long as her uncle lived and insisted that she marry one of his friends. Just the thought of Mr. Smith’s hands, wrinkled and riddled with dark spots, touching her the way Melcombe did earlier made her stomach roll.
“Is Lord Melcombe planning a ball and you need a gown?”
Althea jerked at Monique’s voice. “No. Even if he were, I am only his governess and wouldn’t be invited.”
“You’ve only been looking at ball gowns,” Monique pointed out.
Flustered, Althea put the book back on the table and searched for one more suitable for her station in life. One that contained simple, modest day dresses.
“Wool?”
“Yes. Wool,” Althea answered absently. She probably should specify dull, dark grey wool that covered her from the chin and to the floor with long sleeves. She needed to remember she was a governess, a very proper governess, and not a wanton woman.
Except, she wasn’t a governess any longer. Further, the actions of today meant that she couldn’t remain in Willanton. Certainly, the servants already knew what had occurred this morning and it was only a matter of time before all of Willanton knew and she’d be painted…Althea didn’t want to think of the names that they’d use to describe her.
She so loved this village and she’d gone and ruined any opportunity to live here. She had seriously even considered the lending library, even though she was certain Lord Melcombe thought she jested. The idea had grown on her while she lay in bed yesterday battling the headache. As her time was limited in Lord Melcombe’s home, she had decided being a proprietor of such an establishment would be perfect for the independent woman she intended to be.
Althea just hadn’t realized that she’d be leaving much sooner than intended.
Her face heated again at the recollection of her actions, the unfamiliar heat that had possessed her, the tingles along her skin, especially her thighs where he had touched.
Possession! Yes, that was it. She was possessed by the very devil, and she needed to eradicate him from her being before she returned to the manor to collect her things.
Monique reached forward and took the book from her hands and began thumbing through the pages, offering suggestions. Althea did her best to pay attention, and in the end agreed to go with what Monique suggested. She was the expert in these matters.
