She let out a little squeak, freezing in place for an instant like a frightened rabbit, but thankfully her wits returned in time for her to duck behind a pair of towering plumes, these ones dyed a shockingly bright pink.
It was ridiculous to hide from him, of course—she wasn’t a child, for pity’s sake—but what did a lady say to a gentleman who’d so thoroughly kissed her only days earlier? Particularly if said lady had been dreaming about that kiss since it happened?
It was much easier to hide, but alas, cowardice was always its own punishment, wasn’t it?
The door to Madame Céline’s opened just then and a group of chattering ladies entered, slamming the door behind them and setting the pink plumes aflutter. The movement caught Cass’s attention as he passed, and it was all over for her, then.
He spied her at once, stopped, and then…
Then he did something she didn’t expect.
He smiled at her. That wasn’t so astonishing, although she’d had precious few of Cass’s smiles since she’d arrived in London. It was the texture of it, the way it swept from his mouth to his eyes in an instant, as if it had taken over his face before he had a chance to think better of it.
This wasn’t the arrogant Earl of Windham’s smile. It was the grin she remembered from the brief summer they’d spent together. Wide, friendly, artless, and a touch mischievous…
It wasCass’ssmile.
She was helpless against that smile. Unbidden, an answering grin curved her lips, and they stood there grinning at each other through the glass like a pair of fools until Cass regained his senses and entered the shop.
“Shopping for feathers Lady Harriet?” He raised an eyebrow at the pair of pink monstrosities. “Dear God, I’ve never seen such bright plumes in my life. They’re rather terrifying.”
“They are, indeed. Enormous, as well. What does one do with such large plumes, do you suppose?”
“Put them on ladies’ hats, I believe, but I don’t think…” He glanced from the plumes to her face, his lips twitching. “But I don’t think these particular plumes will suit you, Lady Harriet.”
“No, they’re far too grand for me. I’m not partial to plumes, in any case.”
“But a bonnet must have the proper trimmings, mustn’t it? How about these, instead?” He plucked a slender egret feather dyed a deep blue from a display of feathers in a glass jar. “How about this one? It’s much daintier than the other, and this blue is the exact shade of your eyes.”
He hadn’t meant to say it. That was evident by the way his eyes widened as soon as the words left his lips, and his cheeks…goodness, was he blushing? Cassian Fitzgerald, the Earl of Windham,blushing?
No, surely not. She must be imagining it.
She took the feather to have a closer look, then shook her head, and dropped it back into the jar. “It’s very pretty, and just the sort of feather I’d choose if I wore feathers at all, but I’m content with plain ribbons, my lord. They’re not as dramatic as ostrich plumes. I’m afraid I’m quite dull, but plain ribbons suit me.”
“They do,” he murmured, his dark gaze searching her face. “And you’re not dull, Hattie. Indeed, it’s just the opposite. There’s not a single thing about you that isn’t engaging.”
Did Cass truly find her engaging? She opened her mouth to ask him, but thankfully he interrupted her before she could embarrass herself with such a ridiculous question.
“So, Lady Harriet, how does your brother do?”
“My brother?” What did Johnathan have to do with anything?
“Yes. Lord Melrose.” Cass’s eyes were twinkling. “You do remember him, do you not?”
“Of course, I?—”
“I trust he and Lady Melrose had a pleasant trip from Kent?”
Oh, no. “Er, yes, very pleasant. He’s…ah, that is, he and Lady Melrose are very well.”
“Wonderful! Then I’ll call on him tomorrow morning, shall I?”
“No, tomorrow won’t do. He’s…they…we’re…that is, we’re?—”
“Hattie?”
“Yes?”
