But he still needed answers, the truth, so he knew for certain why she had left instead of assuming.
Chapter Eighteen
Despite her best intention to look forward and be content, Blythe had not slept well. There were too many memories and too many emotions, once long buried, that filled her mind and heart and she spent a good portion of the night tossing in her bed.
Maybe that was what she had needed—to put everything into perspective, which Blythe had somehow managed to do.
What she and Orlando may have shared long ago no longer existed and the fluttering in her heart when she first saw him was a leftover remnant from the past.
She was just as certain that she would not suffer the same again. She had seen him. He was well. They spoke. The past had been settled.
At least that was what she kept repeating to herself as she dressed for the day, breakfasted with Elizabeth, who thankfully made no further mention of Orlando, and traveled to Covent Garden to visit the various flower vendors.
Tonight, Athena’s Salon would be open again, and she must be present to manage if Bethany, now the Duchess of Claybrook, did not make an appearance.
In fact, it was likely that Blythe might not ever see Orlando again and yesterday had just been odd luck. Afterall, she’d lived in London for nearly three years and hadn’t seen him so there was no reason to believe that she would encounter him again.
“These lilies will look lovely in the front sitting room, do you not think?” Elizabeth asked as she held a bouquet out to Blythe to examine.
She barely looked at them. “Yes, they will.”
“Here, you carry them while I look for flowers to decorate the parlor.”
Blythe took the flowers and followed her friend, not seeing much and not really interested in which bouquets Elizabeth chose for Matron Manor.
Though, perhaps she should bring flowers into Athena’s Salon. They occasionally filled vases but had not done so this year.
Yes, they needed flowers for the various vases and with that in mind, she looked over the options to decide which would suit the rooms best when she just happened to glance over at a building, not far away and on a side street. It wasn’t that the building was all that interesting, but the woman with disheveled hair and wearing a light dressing gown on the front step was what originally drew her attention. While such attire should be confined to a sleeping chamber, or at least within the privacy of a home, that was not what bothered Blythe. It was the fact that Orlando was the one who just stepped from the house. While he appeared put to right, that did not mean that he had been earlier.
“Ah, so Dr. Valentine is not without female companionship,” Elizabeth whispered in her ear.
Blythe had nearly jumped because she had not even been aware that Elizabeth was beside her.
“It appears that you are correct,” Blythe responded as the barely clothed woman reached out a hand to Orlando.
“Well, not a permanent one,” Elizabeth corrected.
“So, you suppose that woman is simply a friend and not mistress,” Blythe asked. She certainly appeared to be a mistress.
“Oh, she is not a mistress.”
“How can you even know. She appears as if she just rose from her bed.”
“Because that building houses Madame Devine’s, a brothel.”
Well, it was good to know that some things had not changed in that Orlando still preferred lightskirts to respectable women.
Elizabeth snorted. “I did not think you would be one to suffer from jealousy over a man who by your description was only a friend.”
“I am not jealous,” Blythe argued.
“Then it must be that you are being judgmental for I can think of no other reason why the color would be so high in your cheeks.”
“It is neither.” Blythe whipped around, put her back to Orlando, began inspecting the roses in the buckets beside her while she ignored Elizabeth’s chuckle.
If he would but visit her, Orlando would not need to seek release in a brothel.
Blythe gasped and placed a hand over her mouth and hoped that those words were uttered silently.
