“Sweet Mary,” she whispered when he moved away, and she took a weak step.
This made him chuckle. “You came so quickly, like a firecracker needing only the smallest spark.”
“Stop, please,” she begged, but she couldn’t wipe the foolish smile from her face. Knowing the act of joining as man and wifewas still to come, she could hardly fathom what that would feel like. But she would be counting the days.
“May we take up where we left off the other day?” he asked. “Can you come with me to choose furniture? Perhaps your mother would join us?”
“My parents have gone for the day and taken my younger sisters. And my brother is back at university this week.”
His eyes lit up, and suddenly, she found herself once more in Foxford’s embrace.
“You should have told me that at the start, and we could have done so much more. We still can.”
“You are a rogue,” she said without rancor. “I shall take my maid and be pleased to go with you.”
In fifteen minutes, Purity, along with Alice, climbed into Foxford’s carriage, her body having finally calmed and her heartbeat having slowed to normal. They went only as far as Motcomb Street, passing close to the baron’s home on Belgrave Square. With a fluttering feeling, Purity imagined going inside to see his private life, which would soon include her.
They alighted at The Pantechnicon, entering one of the two large buildings through the Greek-style Doric column façade.
“I purchased my curricle next door,” Foxford said, pointing to the other building.
She had been to the “shop of shops” before, but it was always a monstrous thrill to see so many varied goods housed in one place. Purity thoroughly enjoyed choosing not only the style of sofa and its fabric, but at Foxford’s insistence, new drawing-room chairs, too.
“It couldn’t be any easier than to purchase here,” he said, “and have everything delivered five minutes away to your new home. They have a special wagon just for the furniture deliveries. I see them going up and down the street nearly every day.”
She was comfortable enough to tease him. “You aren’t purchasing new chairs because Lady Varley lounged upon them, too, are you?”
He laughed out loud before answering, “Not at all.”
Then she thought about his reputation. She wasn’t sure what could be done on a wingback chair or a tufted ottoman, but after the way he’d touched her against a door, she supposed anything was possible.
“Or any other women?” she asked more seriously, half fearing the answer.
“Any other women, what, my sweet?” he asked, beaming at her.
She decided to drop the matter. She was in love with a former libertine, and she had better get used to it. There were bound to be a few bumps in the road to their happily ever after existence.
In a display of pianos, Purity played on three of them to try out their resonance and timbre. Other shoppers stopped to listen. Afterward, she told him quietly she preferred her own instrument, not wanting to insult the purveyors.
“And I prefer playing your body,” he whispered in her ear. “I never knew how talented my fingers were until today.”
Almost combusting on the spot, she had to draw out her fan and cool her face. They finished by strolling through the wine department.
Afterward, they went to the drapers to choose new curtains and the famed carpet dealer at the East India warehouse on Billiter Street.
“A better price and selection,” Foxford had said, “than going to one of the Oxford shops.”
And then they decided to go to Gunter’s for a refreshing ice dessert.
At the shop’s entrance, a child shouted out, “Papa.”
Thinking nothing of it apart from the sweetness of the tone, Purity turned to see the giver and the receiver of such a loving address.
Foxford had turned, too.
Purity saw a little girl over his shoulder with light brown hair. Strangely, when the child called out the word again, she seemed to be speaking tohim.
What’s more, Foxford moved a few steps in the girl’s direction.
