“Good morning, Mr.de Clare,” the shop girls chorused.They had somehow arranged themselves in a razor straight line.
“Girls,” he said in a deep, pleasant voice.His ocean blue eyes swept through the neat counter displays and spotless shelves.“Everything is in order this afternoon?”
“Yes, sir.”
I blinked, coming out of my stupor at the sound of his name.Surely this young man was not the owner of this palatial department store.Mr.de Clare was the condescending balding gentleman who had turned me away thrice now.
ThisMr.de Clare was certainly not balding.His head of lustrous black waves turned to me.
“Forgive me for the disruption, miss.You were browsing?”he said.
I held up my bars of soap.“Not at all.Just finished.”
“Let me help you with that, miss,” Dinah chirped.She stepped behind the counter, took the bars, and wrapped them into a pretty parcel with seafoam tissue paper tied off with a bit of twine.“That will be two silvers.To whom and where shall I address the bill?”
“Oh...Giselle Phula.But there’s no need for that.”Wealthy folk were in the habit of buying whatever they liked and leaving bills on their tab until the very last minute.I was too poor to be that reckless with my money.I fumbled for the satin pouch at my waist.
“Phula, is it?”the new Mr.de Clare said.I jumped at the sound of my name in his smooth voice.“That’s the name of the royal seamstress last winter.”
The shop girls looked at each other, then at me.
“I-I didn’t think anyone remembered,” I stammered.I pushed two silver coins across the counter, all too aware of his assessing gaze at my periphery.
“It’s a hard name to forget.”
I took the parcel from Dinah, quite at a loss for words.
The new Mr.de Clare walked along the counter and stopped before me.“I hope this establishment is suitable for your needs.”
“Of course it is.It’s gigantic,” I said stupidly.
“Then I wish you frequent it as often as you like.”He pressed the top of one silver coin with his gloved finger and slid it toward me.“At a discount, of course.”
My eyes widened.He certainly had a fair amount of authority.Surely he had to be a relation of Walter de Clare, though I couldn’t find any resemblance to the old man’s jowly face in his handsome features.
“Fifty percent?”I managed.
A smile curved his full lips, and I nearly forgot how to breathe.“Indeed.”He withdrew something from his waistcoat pocket and offered it to me—a card embossed with a golden seashell and the nameMr.Edmund de Clarein swirling font.“Just show this upon your purchases.The rest will go to my tab.”
“Thank you, sir,” I breathed.
He inclined his head.“Edmund, if you please.I’m afraid I have other business to attend to.It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Giselle.”
Then he was gone.
I felt the lump of my wealth charm tucked into my waistband.I hadn’t made a new one since last week.Usually charms like these only worked once.After one stumbled upon a coin or won a card game, it would become useless.But it had done so much more.Had I accidentally made a good luck charm after all?
Dinah let go of a violent sigh, the stiffness of her posture melting when Edmund de Clare’s coat tails disappeared behind the doors.When she met my gaze again, there was curiosity in her eyes instead of panic.“Thank you for your help.Mr.de Clare is rather strict with how we employees present ourselves.”
“Does Mr.Edmund de Clare stand to inherit this place?”I asked, gesturing at the doors.
“Mr.Edmund?Oh, no.He is Mr.de Clare’s son but—”
“Mr.Walter de Clare’s empire will go to his nephew, Mr.Edmund’s cousin,” another shop girl piped up.She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.“Mr.Edmund was born on the wrong side of the blanket, you see.”
I raised my brows.So the beautiful man was the illegitimate son of Walter de Clare.
“Hush!Have you no propriety, Blair?”Dinah said irritably.
