“Yes. He’s the bloody Prince of Wales and whatever he wants he gets. He’s a great customer and is spending a phenomenal amount of money with my company, but sometimes it’s hard to watch what you say because of who he is.”
Harriet giggled as she couldn’t think of a comeback for his statement. “He must trust you or he wouldn’t be giving you all his business.”
He nodded. “Did I mention he might want to bring his wife along so she can give me her ideas. He thought you coming along would be perfect.”
“Why?” she asked taking the last bite of cake before taking a long sip of tea.
“I think because you’re both women and you could guide the princess as far as furnishings?”
Harriet about burst out laughing. In fact she was taken off guard so much she spit the mouthful of tea back into the cup. “I know nothing about rail cars, let alone furnishing one.”
“I can teach you if it comes down to it,” Lucien replied.
“Very well, but only if there’s no other option.”
“Thank you. Now I suppose I should get you home since we’ve spent most of the afternoon together.”
“I’ve really enjoyed it, too, Lucien.”
They walked on the street so Harriet could peek in shop windows. When they came to the corner, they enjoyed time walking at the edge of the park. Conversation was kept at a minimum until they came upon Jameson House.
“I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this. Thank you,” Harriet said.
“It was my pleasure. I’m going to speak to Arthur tomorrow about the ball that’s coming up.”
“That should be a fun time,” she replied.
“It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been to one of these balls, but all I’ve heard are wonderful things.”
“Hmmm,” Harriet said lowly.
Lucien cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her. It was enough for her to know his feelings. Anything else in front of the house would be bad manners.
“Have a good evening,” he said. He turned and walked towards his waiting carriage. Lucien stepped into it and, rather than watch him drive off, she turned and went inside the house. These were all things that belonged in her journal.
After inquiring about Daphne and finding out she was out, Harriet climbed the stairs and went to her room.
She threw her shawl over the back of a chair before sitting down in front of the desk and pulling her journal out of a drawer. Time got away from Harriet. She’d been unaware how long she’d been writing until the maid came to light the fire for the night.
“Do you know if Lady Daphne has returned?” Harriet inquired.
“She’s home. I believe she’s changing for dinner, milady.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
She would put everything away and go in search of Daphne. She was about to burst, not being able to tell anyone of her afternoon with Lucien. He listened to her, had ideas to share, and made her feel as though she was the most important thing in his life. She knew he was fast becoming the most important in hers. Having only been kissed by Paul Graham, and that she later learned was a dare, she knew Lucien’s kisses did something to her she’d never felt before. She wanted them to never end. His kisses were like the air she breathed. She had to have them in order to live.
Chapter Eleven
It was twodays later when Arthur came rushing home from Parliament. He had received an invitation from his esteemed colleague, Lord Simpson the week before, but had set it on his desk and forgotten about it. Until now. Simpson had inquired about whether or not he was attending since he hadn’t replied to the invitation.
He all but ran to the drawing room where he found Daphne and Harriet doing needle work.
Harriet looked up at her cousin. He was panting, red faced, with a sheer look of terror on his face.
“What’s all the fuss, Arthur?” Daphne asked, putting her needle work aside.
“We’ve been invited to the Simpsons’ event tonight,” he replied as he dropped himself into a nearby chair.
