She had enough time to give the entire space a disdainful once-over and approach the nearest display table before Mr. Ferman hustled out of a back room.
“Sorry, sorry, we’re short-staffed at the moment. I apologize for the wait.” The owner of the shop called out without even looking at them. Then he pulled up short when he recognized Nicholas. “Lord Marstede! You honor my shop with your presence. How may I help you and your lady?”
His lady? Nicholas shuddered internally at the notion of Abigail holding that title. “Abigail wanted to browse the fine products you have for sale. I’ll let her tell you what she is looking for.”
“Of course, of course.” Mr. Ferman turned to her. “What can Ferman’s Exotic Goods do for you today, Lady Abigail?”
Abigail and Mr. Ferman were a matched set of supercilious customer and obsequious shop owner. They went around the store completely engrossed in convincing each other that the goods were too low quality and only the best and most rare items to be found anywhere outside of Linzen, respectively.
Nicholas stood by the door, happy to be forgotten by both, until he heard Mr. Ferman mention Marstede.
“Oh yes,” the shopkeeper was saying, “I was horrified to think any of Lady Marstede’s guests would have to do without such a basic comfort. I sent Miss Winsel to the manor as soon as I found the soap. She’d be here to help you today, but Lady Marstede was so impressed she requested Miss Winsel stay onfor the month to help the servants. That’s why no one was out here to greet you when you came in.”
Miss Winsel. A shop assistant from Lamsdel who had been sent to Marstede to deliver soap the night Abigail had arrived. Well, that explained Sadie’s appearance at his kitchen door. And her annoyance when he told her to leave.
His mother’s motives were a little harder to pierce.
Nicholas almost walked over and interrupted, needing to be sure. Wanting to ask if Miss Winsel’s given name was Sadie. Then he realized what that would reveal to Abigail. She had no idea the names or origins of any of the servants in his home and wouldn’t know one way or another if a Miss Winsel was among them, but she’d recognize the name Sadie.
Suddenly Nicholas was afraid what might be revealed in any random conversation now that he was in Lamsdel with Abigail. He didn’t care who Sadie’s family really was, but Abigail would. And if she learned of his mother and Sadie’s subterfuge, she would raise vengeful spirits in retaliation.
If the truth came out, then Sadie might leave Marstede early.
Oh, Nicholas had no intention of letting her disappear from his life, and Lamsdel wasn’t far, but he also had no intention of letting her put any extra distance between them if he could help it.
He held his tongue—the conversation was already veering back to the shop’s products rather than employees—and planned how to get Abigail out of Lamsdel without talking to any of the other villagers.
???
An overcast skydid all the convincing Nicholas needed. He knew the rain wouldn’t hit until later that evening at the earliest, but Abigail didn’t. She trusted his urgency when they stepped out of the fine goods store, several parcels in tow, and looked up to grayskies rather than blue. Thank the spirits for summer storms that darkened the skies hours before they hit.
He had them back in the curricle and on the road home without her exchanging a word with a single person other than Mr. Ferman.
Sadie’s secrets were safe.
Once back at Marstede, he dropped Abigail off at the front door and drove his curricle around to the stables himself. He didn’t think he could handle being in her presence for a second longer. At least tonight at supper she wouldn’t dare to put her hands on him.
Though tempted to linger and help curry the horses, a task he’d been known to take over from his stable hands on many an occasion, Nicholas risked heading back into the manor. He and his mother were overdue for a talk.
His mother apparently shared the same opinion, for her maid, Maisie, was waiting for him by the door closest to the stables with a summons to his mother’s sitting room.
“I’m so glad you made it back before supper.” She greeted him, accepting the kiss he placed on her cheek before gesturing for him to take a seat. “I was afraid that girl was going to try to trap you in Lamsdel for the meal.”
Nicholas sat. “I managed to convince her we risked getting stuck in a downpour.”
“A gamble. I wouldn’t put it past her to use that as an excuse to insist you both stay at the inn for the night.”
Nicholas raised a brow. “Because that would be so much worse than having her sleep in my room at the manor?”
“My presence as a chaperone does offer you a level of protection you wouldn’t have in Lamsdel.”
“Your protection is a double-edged sword, Mother. Couldn’t you have at least warned me that you’d be inviting the women to stay in my bed ahead of time?”
“Of course not. Then you’d have had time to clear out your room, which defeats the entire purpose.”
“There’s a purpose? I was beginning to suspect you were just getting bored and decided to amuse yourself at my expense.”
“That’s only a secondary benefit.” His mother pointed at a folded handkerchief on the table in front of him. “That is the real purpose of this step in the process.”
