“I’m glad that you’re pleased with it, Your Grace,” Mr. Roberts said, glancing sideways. He returned his gaze to Anthony. “As it happens, I’m developing a new design for a faster and more luxurious landau. Perhaps I can tempt you?”
They moved aside to allow the other three women who had now finished with their purchases to pass so they could exit the shop.
“I might have to visit your facilities one of these days,” Anthony agreed, his gaze shifting to the woman who’d drawn him into the shop in the first place. It was the first time he’d looked at her properly. His heart began beating faster in his chest. When he’d last seen her she’d been wearing a mask, and while he’d known she’d be beautiful without it, he hadn’t expected her to be quite so breathtaking.
“How terribly rude of me,” Mr. Roberts said. “I’ve quite neglected to introduce you to Miss Chilcott. We were hoping to find a new pair of gloves for her—that’s why we’re here. Miss Chilcott, please join us.”
With a growing sense of uneasiness, Anthony watched as Miss Chilcott stepped toward them. She looked perfectly calm and collected, save for her hands, which were clenched in tight fists at her sides. She looked at Mr. Roberts, who immediately said, “May I present you to His Grace, the Duke of Kingsborough?”
Anthony waited while Miss Chilcott dropped into a deep curtsy. “It is an honor, Your Grace,” she said, her head bowed toward the floor.
She rose, and Anthony reached for her hand. Bowing over it, he lifted it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss upon her knuckles, his eyes meeting hers from beneath his lashes as he did so.
The blush in her cheeks was unmistakable. “What a coincidence,” Anthony said. He’d begun to suspect that Mr. Roberts was the man she intended to marry, for it would be unusual for them to shop for gloves together otherwise—especially with Mr. Roberts’s character taken into account. Consequently, Anthony found himself quite unable to stop himself from adding a little more to Miss Chilcott’s state of discomfort. “As it happens, I was on my way to the Chilcott residency just now to meet with your father.”
“Oh, so you know them then?” Mr. Roberts asked, seemingly oblivious to the pallor of Miss Chilcott’s face.
“Not yet,” Anthony said, smiling at Miss Chilcott. She was really taking the whole thing remarkably well, all things considered. “My interest in them pertains to some information regarding a missing person—it has come to my attention that Mr. Chilcott might be able to help.”
Miss Chilcott coughed. “Beg your pardon,” she said. “If you don’t mind, I do believe I’ll take a look at the gloves.”
“Well,” Mr. Roberts said, “I do hope you find this person you’re looking for.”
“Thank you,” Anthony muttered, his eyes still on Miss Chilcott. The lady had a lot of explaining to do. Just to be sure that he’d made the right assessment, he turned to Mr. Roberts, lowered his voice to a whisper and said, “Forgive me, but I can’t help but wonder if congratulations are in order?” He nodded toward Miss Chilcott, who stood with her back toward them, her right hand inside a dark green glove.
“Not yet, but soon, I believe. Her parents are quite eager, and besides, the sooner we marry, the sooner I can tell Mrs. Jenkins that she’s free to retire.”
“Mrs. Jenkins?” Anthony asked, frowning.
“My housekeeper. She’s a lovely woman but too old for all that’s required of her. Miss Chilcott is young and spirited—she’ll do marvelously well, I’m sure.”
“As your housekeeper or as your wife?” Anthony couldn’t believe he’d just asked such a question, but what Mr. Roberts had suggested was far too outrageous to be ignored.
“I see no reason why Miss Chilcott cannot fulfill the duties of a housekeeperanda wife. I am not expecting her to scrub the floors after all, but I don’t desire a woman who is of the opinion that it is her sole purpose in life to sit on a chair and look pretty. Besides, having a housekeeper is an unnecessary expenditure when one’s wife is perfectly capable.”
“I see.” It did sound logical, but the way he said it... something about it convinced Anthony that Miss Chilcott was destined to live a grueling existence if she married Mr. Roberts. He didn’t like it one bit. There had to be a way to stop him from offering for her. As it was, he did seem a bit too much like a dangle after, though Anthony couldn’t for the life of him imagine why he was taking so long in coming up to scratch. Hadhebeen in Mr. Roberts’s shoes, he and Miss Chilcott would have been well on their way to expanding their family by now.
“What do you think of this pair?” Miss Chilcott asked, turning just enough to hold up a pair of dark blue gloves for Mr. Roberts to see.
Anthony liked them and was about to say as much when Mr. Roberts said, “I don’t think that’s a very good color for your hands—the green ones were better.”
Miss Chilcott blinked, and so did Anthony. What an absurd comment. Anthony considered saying as much but stopped himself. As far as Mr. Roberts was concerned, Anthony had no reason to defend Miss Chilcott, and for the present, it was best it remained that way. So he held silent instead while Miss Chilcott frowned, sighed and nodded as she told the woman behind the counter that the green pair was better.
It was a dratted business really. When Miss Chilcott had mentioned her impending engagement on the night of the ball, it hadn’t occurred to Anthony that he might actually know the man. For some reason he’d thought it a simple enough task to steal her away from whoever he turned out to be. That the man was Mr. Roberts complicated the matter significantly, not just because Anthony knew him (however little that might be), but because he lived in Moxley and Anthony would have to face the very real possibility of happening upon him on a regular basis. Really, was there anything much worse than passing the man whose fiancée you’d stolen in the street?
Anthony sighed. He’d speak to Mr. Chilcott first andthendecide how best to deal with Mr. Roberts. And then of course there were the Deerfords, who needed contacting. That would be yet another delicate matter. It would probably be best if he first discovered if (a) the gown Miss Chilcott had worn to the ball was in fact the same as the one belonging to Lady Margaret and (b) if it was, then how such a thing could be possible.
If he could only answer these questions, he felt certain that everything would be made a lot simpler.
“Do you plan to stop anywhere else before calling on the Chilcotts, Your Grace, or would you like to walk with us? We’re going there directly.” Mr. Roberts said as he took Miss Chilcott’s parcel for her and offered her his arm. She did not look at Anthony as she took it, but she did not have to for him to know how awkward she felt—it was radiating from her entire person.
“Thank you. I’d be happy to join you,” Anthony said, deciding that he’d have to abandon his idea of buying flowers—if anything, it would make the situation more difficult than it already was. He would have to slow down a bit instead. Especially since he didn’t wish to embarrass anyone, and he had to admit that arriving at the Chilcotts’ front door with flowers for Miss Chilcott when Mr. Roberts was in attendance would be humiliating for everyone, not to mention exceptionally badly done.
“After you,” Mr. Roberts said, gesturing for Anthony to lead the way.
They stepped back into the street and began walking. Nobody said a word for a while until Miss Chilcott, much to Anthony’s surprise, suddenly said, “I was wondering, Your Grace, do you enjoy reading?”
Anthony considered asking if it was some sort of a trick question, considering how unexpected it was.
