“Absolutely not,” she said moving to his side. “Stop behaving like a child. Spectacles will change your life if you need them. ’Tis merely pride talking.”
“Why are you here?” Ambrose said in an ungentlemanly way that had the optician clearing his throat uncomfortably.
“We are old acquaintances. Mr. Redfern, pay his bad manners no mind,” Tilly said. “Now there is nothing to fear, my lord.”
He didn’t mention the fact she’d been calling him Ambrose because he was off balance, and he loathed feeling that way.
She nudged him to the right, and he let her because she’d said he was acting like a child, which he knew was true.
“I shall leave my spectacles here, Mr. Redfern, and return next week when the arm is repaired.”
“You’ve broken them again, Miss Wilson?” Mr. Redfern said, coming out from behind the counter to take them from her. “What were you doing this time?”
“I tend to swing them around by the arm when I am thinking, but I assure you, I am trying to stop that practice.”
“Very well. I will have them fixed by next week Tuesday. Take care not to damage the other pair, or you will be unable to read until then.”
“I will. Good day to you both,” she then said, heading for the door.
And just like that, she’d gone, taking all the air and joy with her. Damn bloody woman.
“Miss Wilson was the one to tell me it is possible I need spectacles,” Ambrose said, suddenly nervous as the man approached. “My youngest sister is her friend.” He never explained his actions, but felt the need to talk.
“She is my favorite customer,” he said.
Of course she is.That woman loved everyone but him. Not that he wanted her love, but still.
The man then guided him through an eye test, during which Ambrose read numbers on a paper held at a distance. Mr. Redfern was thorough and precise, and Ambrose knew the man had decided, because of the way he’d treated Tilly, he disliked him. It wasn’t something he was used to. People usually liked Ambrose, and he was now thinking about why. Was it just because he was an lord? Very likely, he realized. It was a humbling thought. He thought he was a good person, but did other people believe that?
He was shallow enough to blame Tilly entirely for these deep thoughts.
“Come, my lord. We shall try on glasses next,” Mr. Redfern said.
“So I do need them?” Why that shocked him, he had no idea, because there were the headaches he was constantly plagued with, and looking through Tilly’s glasses had allowed him to see clearly.
“For reading only, my lord.”
“It is not vanity that has me shocked, Mr. Redfern. I am happy to wear them,” Ambrose lied. Perversely he wanted theman to like him. “I have no issue with wearing glasses,” he lied again.
He had a huge issue with wearing them and dreaded the attention he would receive from family and friends when he did so before them. Perhaps he would just save them for reading at home.
“Of course,” Mr. Redfern said, but Ambrose could hear the doubt beneath his words.
He did not speak again, simply tried on spectacles until he found a pair that allowed him to clearly read the passage the optometrist held.
“I don’t even have to squint,” Ambrose said, awed at the clarity.
“They do make a difference, and your headaches should now stop, Lord Talbot.”
“Does my father come here for his spectacles, Mr. Redfern?”
The man didn’t look surprised by the question and nodded. “Indeed he does, my lord. In fact, I have custom from many in society.”
Ambrose let his eyes wander around the shop, and they settled on a faded print. But it was the bottom right-hand corner that held his attention.
“Are you a Freemason, Mr. Redfern?”
“I am, as was my father, my lord.” The man looked at him now.
