“What about a bird?” Charlotte countered, realizing it was safer for her to provide her own idea than to be subjected to Mrs. Dunsdale’s exceedingly creative whims.
Mrs. Dunsdale turned and eyed her, a huge smile pulling across her cheeks. “A bird it is! How perfect. Feathers for your mask and hair. Perhaps we might even incorporate a small bird cage somewhere along the waist of your dress.” She drew breath. “Yes, I like that. A bird set free. Lovely.”
Charlotte knew she and her dress were in capable—and overly excitable—hands. If Alex had been invited, what would he think of it? The gown might even be perfect enough to appease Christopher’s critical eye. No doubt Lord Ainscough would find her pretty, but he was always complimentary and gracious. She wished he’d sometimes contradict her, even just a little, for where was the fun in someone who always agreed?
When Mrs. Dunsdale finished taking measurements, Charlotte paid her an advance and turned to Margaret.
They walked down the steps onto the cobblestone sidewalk, and Charlotte could tell by Margaret’s nervous hands twisting the side seams of her dress that the maid wasn’t herself.
“Is everything all right?” Charlotte paused outside a shop.
Margaret glanced at her and then exhaled. “The dressmaker. Somethin’ ’bout her reminded me. Her tooth. I think I remember a man in me past, someone close to me.”
“Someone you cared for?”
“I... I think so.”
“How did you care for him? Was he related to you?”
“I’m not sure, miss.”
Charlotte placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Hold on to the memory, and perhaps it will grow in time.”
Margaret looked thoughtful, and a bit of calm entered her countenance. She drew up her shoulders and smiled bravely. “Now, I did promise Cook I’d order a few more things from the grocers, if you don’t mind. She’ll have me ’ead if I come back empty-handed. Might I just step inside ’ere?”
“I’ll wait outside.” She motioned for Margaret to proceed ahead of her, and the maid nodded and closed the door of the shop behind her. Just as she did, a man turned down the same street. He walked with a sort of earned confidence, and she knew that stride immediately. When he momentarily glanced to the side, Charlotte caught sight of those eyes she’d know anywhere, and her heart fluttered. She’d wanted him to visit, but he hadn’t.
Now fate had presented an opportunity.
Unaware of her, Alex continued to walk, glancing again out toward the street, until he was so close she had no choice but to clear her throat and step to the side.
At the unexpected sound he froze, raising his head, and his eyes were inviting and bright blue and so very unlike the chameleon Mrs. Dunsdale had just mentioned.
“Miss Roylance. Whatever are you doing here?” He hadn’t mastered his composure and glanced briefly toward her hair and shoulders, and she remembered the last time he’d seen her. Was he recalling the same instance?
She searched for something witty to say. “Well, asyouonce said, this is the path between where I was and where I am going, and as such, I took said path.”
“Ah, I see.” The slight uptick of his mouth was all the assurance Charlotte needed. He continued. “Then, I find myself fortunate that I too needed to walk this way.” His gaze flitted to the right and left. “Is your family present?”
“It is just my maid and me, and she has run into this shop for a moment.”
His shoulders eased and his gaze grew earnest. “How very fortunate that your brothers aren’t here to hurry us apart.”
“Isn’t it?” The too-honest reply flew from her mouth, and an immediate flush followed on her cheeks.
His brows rose in delight, his mouth pulling up halfway, and she floundered for something else to fill the air. “Um, where have you come from just now?”
His eyes immediately turned dark and heavy. “Newcastle. Mr. Cartwright, a mine owner, summoned me yet again. I am far too beholden to his wishes.” He shrugged, and although she liked to hear about what he was involved with, his sad countenance indicated that perhaps a turn of the conversation might be best.
“You must find it a relief to be back, then. Walter asks George about you daily. He still doesn’t talk to me, but he’s given up punishing everyone else.”
Alex’s eyes lit with a spark of mischief. “Well, perhaps Walter knows that once you start talking, it’s rather hard to get you to stop. Or have you changed since you’ve grown older?”
She shook her head and brought a hand to her brow. “I thought you encouraged me to be like my old self.”
“Indeed, I did,” he said, tipping his hat. How was it possible for him to convey so much pleasure with just one smile?
“Well, it proves you know me well.” She laughed. “Now, enough about my faults.Doyou plan to visit Walter or not?”
