Lavender, the modiste Eleanor had met earlier, swept from her sewing manufactory, hands full of silk, and hesitated at the gathering on the landing. The tutor cast her an admiring glance and hastily urged the boys to make room for her to pass.
Lavender didn’t appear to notice. “You have torn your hem, Miss Leonard. You should have my ladies repair it, but those dirt stains may never come out. Why don’t you stop by the shop and find something possibly a little more practical? And then Kate can find a way to repair this one.”
Poor Peg had done her best to mend El’s new gown so she might look presentable at the Priory, but apparently, she’d failed. El glanced down at the sadly wilted sprigged muslin and sighed. “I’ll never learn to be ladylike.”
“Now who is being foolish? Come along, Miss Leonard, I believe I owe you a gown.” Grey tugged her arm. “Is Arnaud at the gallery?” he asked of Thea before rushing off.
“Consoling Mort and rehanging his work, yes. Mort will appreciate a few kind words. Shall I accompany you?” Thea seemed prepared to follow.
“No, we have many errands. We are taking a day of rest.” Energy apparently restored, Grey nearly dragged El from the manor.
“If the clock is correct, it is already two. Our day is almost over,” she said dryly as they hurried down the manor’s rutted carriage drive. “And is rushing about your notion of resting?”
“How is it that there is suddenly so very much to do?” His tone was almost accusatory. “Where is Andrew? I have questions.”
El feared they were about the furniture. Rather than reply, she tested him with her own queries. “Did he not set up your bed properly last night? Was it more comfortable than sleeping on sagging rope?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Of course, it was. And having a washstand with a mirror for a change was excessively useful. I no longer fear finding shaving soap behind my ear. But the desks are still in the cart. They will be a difficulty to carry upstairs and Andrew cannot do it alone.”
He was staying! She prayed. She practiced her best courtesy in hopes she wouldn’t rile him. “I can work in the parlor, if that is a help. And thank you for the lovely mirror and dressing table! I am not accustomed to seeing so much of myself. I’m not entirely certain I enjoy it, but the thought was lovely. It seems a great deal of trouble for six months.” That last line was another test, she feared, but she could not resist. Her entire future rested on his answers.
His active mind swerved in a different direction. “Good, glad you like the mirror. You have never had an opportunity to see how beautiful you are. Once you learn to wield your feminine wiles, Andrew will have to fight off suitors with a shotgun. Women are dangerous to have around.”
Suitors? Beautiful? Both notions shocked her long enough for him to steer her toward the inn’s shops. Grey thought curly-haired, plain, stick-like her, beautiful? More likely, he was trying to distract her from whatever he was up to. That thought returned her tongue.
“I thought we were to go to the gallery to help Mort?” El asked, hesitating at the entrance to the innyard.
“I am not utterly useless. I know what to say to dejected artists, despite Percy’s calumny.”
Evidently, his confidence had not been dented by the court proceedings. Her own was not so resilient, but under current circumstances, his mattered more.
Grey continued barking orders. “You will follow Miss Lavender’s suggestion and choose a new gown. Yours was ruined in my employ, so I shall pay for it. You do not need my assistance in choosing dresses any more than I need assistance at the gallery. I do not intend to be a hovering suitor.”
He abandoned her at the inn door, leaving El with her mouth open and the innkeeper’s wife looking on with amusement.
“A forceful man is the baron,” Verity noted at El’s confusion. “I rather like the ones who allow women to have their own minds.”
“I have my own mind. He has nothing to do with it,” El said dazedly. Although his words had evidently sent her mind reeling again. Suitor? He was considering himself among the many of her imagined callers?
She continued on to the shop, until she realized she didn’t have Peg and wondered if she should go back to the house.
But the lovely shopkeeper saw her hesitating in the hall and called a greeting. “Miss Leonard—Eleanor! I heard of your bravery. The brute has ruined your new muslin, I see. I think I have just the thing to replace it. Since we have your measurements on file, this should be simple.” Kate rummaged through one of her trunks.
“Aren’t you to be married in the morning?” El asked in bewilderment as the auburn-haired clerk began scattering gowns across a table.
Kate beamed. “I am. Rafe is holding our wedding breakfast in the pub after services. I hope you and Greybourne will attend.”
“And you will continue to work afterward? Or will someone else be here to finish my gown?” Perhaps the blow to her head had been more serious than she’d thought. The world suddenly appeared to be spinning at great rate.
Of course, the only world she’d ever known was Edinburgh, and given her poverty, it had been limited.
Kate laughed. “I love working. One day, I hope to have a housekeeper again. But for now, I have two boys going to school, and they need so much. . . I am grateful for your business.” She stuck a pin between her teeth and tucked a frill into the neckline of a practical round gown.
Uncertain of her ability to choose wisely, El cautiously pointed out a pretty blue-green frock that Kate did not seem to be considering. “That is a pretty color.”
Placing the pin in the ruffle, Kate happily set aside the dull gown and held up the pretty one. “Peacock! If you are daring enough to wear it, it will suit you well. You’ll want more fashionable sleeves, but I think we have the perfect scarf to tuck into the neckline so it won’t need a flounce. Yours is a classic beauty that doesn’t require frills to be noticed.”
Classic beauty. Perhaps she ought to peruse a mirror more often. Or everyone was giving her Spanish coin.
