Page 92 of The Language of Love

Chapter 15

Annis goggled like a bumpkin at the bolts of fabric that filled a good half of Madame Jenette’s stylish Oxford Street shop.

“My goodness!” Freddie’s beautiful eyes glowed as she took in the almost magical sight.

“You took the words from my mouth,” Annis murmured.

They had arrived at the establishment of Henry’s choosing to discover that he’d hired the modiste’s shop for the entire day.

“She is very exclusive,” Freddie whispered. “I’ve never had a client who has managed to get their toe in the door. Usually, she is quite insufferable,” Freddie added.

They watched with some amusement as Henry directed the woman as if she were one of his servants.

As haughty as the Frenchwoman looked, she was behaving with almost comical obsequiousness—whether because of his rank, appearance, or the vast amount of fabric that he’d delivered to her shop, Annis could not have said.

Madame, in turn, ordered her employees about like a general deploying troops, making sure all the finery was properly displayed.

Henry hadn’t just brought bolts of fabric, there were also ells of exquisite lace, colorful feathers, beaded trims, silken fringe, and dozens of other luxuries that Annis had never dreamed of buying in the past.

Once he’d given his directions to the modiste, he turned to Annis.

“These are the fabrics and colors I thought might suit you best,” he explained. “Anything you don’t want I’ve offered to sell to Madame Jenette.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “For an exceptionally low price.”

The colors and materials were vibrant and gorgeous and perfect; it was as if he’d stepped into Annis’s head and selected all her favorites: periwinkle blue, spring greens, a dozen shades of pink, and—most remarkably—a vivid red silk.

Freddie raised the scarlet silk to Annis’s face, nodding slowly. “I never would have considered such a color, but it is extraordinary with your fair complexion.” She turned to Henry, a gleam of respect in her pale gray eyes. “Aren’t you a man of hidden talents, my lord?”

Henry merely smiled. “In addition to the material you see here, I’ve delivered fine lawns and muslins to a woman Madame Jenette suggested. She will pass along your measurements for custom garments, but you will need to purchase several ready-made items to see you through the next few days.”

Annis blushed; he meant undergarments.

Henry gestured to a rack of gowns that two shop clerks brought out from the back room. “Madam selected a number of gowns that can be quickly altered to fit you. You should choose enough to last you at least the next three days until she can deliver some of the new garments.”

The loveliest rose-pink muslin snagged Annis’s gaze. She reached out to finger the fine fabric.

“Yes,” Henry said, his gaze assessing as he looked at her. “I thought of you as soon as I saw that color.”

Annis swallowed, suddenly uncomfortably hot. He’d thought of her?

Freddie lightly cleared her throat, shattering the taut silence. “I made a list of what you’ll need, Annis.”

“As have I,” Henry said, handing Freddie a folded piece of parchment, his brooding eyes still scorching Annis.

While the two compared their lists, Annis escaped to the rack of clothing, not really seeing the garments that she was looking at as guilt and shame ate at her. Henry had done all this for her?

He must still like her? At least a little?

And yet his reserve toward her had not lessened.

Annis turned away from both the lovely garments and the unhappy thought. She smiled slightly at the sight of her dearest friend and betrothed pouring over a stack of pattern books and discussing what would best suit her.

She couldn’t have imagined such a delightful turn of events and she wanted to enjoy this day—what woman wouldn’t be thrilled to have everything she’d ever wanted? At least everything material.

But her throat became uncomfortably thick as she looked at Henry’s massive shoulders and the vulnerable nape of his neck as he and Freddie put their heads together. As lovely as this all was, it was still superficial and material. Was this what Henry thought she wanted from him? Is this what he believed she was marrying him for? Fine garments and comfortable carriages?

Yesterday he had said there was no point in dwelling on what had happened in the past.

But did that necessarily mean that he looked forward to a future with her?