Page 35

What was Freddie doing?

“What are we to buy in the village?” Evie asked, defusing some of the growing tension.

Freddie lifted his shoulder.

“Ribbon,” Pippy said. When she mentioned going into town, she did not think all of them would go. But Lord Kentwood had insisted. But why? “I found some acorns, walnuts, and pinecones on the ground while we were walking back to the house. If I can find some tinfoil and saffron resin to mimic the look of gilt, it will add a special touch, do you not think?”

Her husband looked at her. “Tinfoil and saffron resin? Why do we not just purchase a booklet of gold leaf? Surely that would be easier and look far superior.”

Pippy’s face warmed as she glanced over at the raised brow of Lord Kentwood. He must think her no better than a pauper.

She lifted her finger, but it only got as far as her chest before she pushed it back down.

It was an odd situation she found herself in. She had never worried over money—until recently. Yet, the concern that Freddie might think her a fortune hunter was ever-present. Especially if she spent his money carelessly. But her money-saving ideas seemed only to confirm that she was inferior. She needed to walk a line, and she did not fully know where to step next.

“If that is what you wish.” She glanced over at his sisters. “I thought Evie, Ari, and I might spend some time this evening gilding so they’ll be ready for our decorating tomorrow.”

“Oh, I should love to,” Evie said.

Ari looked less thrilled at the suggestion.

The carriage came to a stop and Lord Kentwood bounded out first. Freddie went next and waited to hand her out, followed by his sisters.

“Can we purchase some peppermint sticks from the confectioners, Papa?” Ari asked sweetly.

Her father shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. It was incongruous with everything she knew of him. Could it be he was not the surly grump of a man she thought him to be? She’d glimpsed the kind man earlier. He always seemed softer when talking to his daughters—even when he pretended to be vexed.

The realization came with sharp clarity. It was her. His dislike of her was why he was surly.

She glanced over at her husband, and he grinned at her. He had a way of setting her at ease. She returned it and decided she could be content even if Freddie were the only one to smile at her.

“Why do we not go to the confectioners’ shop while you two find the gilding?” Lord Kentwood said. “We’ll meet at the milliner’s in thirty minutes and find the ribbon together?”

Freddie nodded. “Yes, that would be best. We do not wish to be late dressing for dinner.”

Pippy frowned. Was that what irritated her father-in-law this time? The trip to the village had been her idea. Did he think she would make them late?

Lord Kentwood motioned his daughters down the pavement toward the sweets shop.

Freddie put his hand on Pippy’s back. “Ah, there’s a book and stationer’s shop. Let’s check there first for the gold booklet.”

They stepped inside, and Pippy breathed in the smell of paper and ink. It was one of her favorite shops, besides the lending library. She enjoyed the milliner’s and draper’s warehouse as much as the next lady. But nothing quite gave her the same feeling of happiness as a bookshop.

She ran her fingertips across the spines of the books as they passed. The cool feel of the leather brought a sense of calm. It was odd to think that something so small and simple could be such a balm to one’s soul.

“Is there a book that interests you?” Freddie asked behind her.

She looked over her shoulder. She’d almost forgotten he was there. Her face heated at being caught mooning over books. Pining for books was something her younger self would have done. “Nothing in particular.” She glanced away. “I’ve always enjoyed the smell of a bookshop.”

He nodded. “As do I.” He pulled a few books from the shelf and thumbed through them before slotting them back into place. “What books delight you these days, Lady Weymouth?”

Gracious, it was still disconcerting to hear him call her that. “I really wish you’d call me Pippy,” she said.

His face lit and his mouth turned up in a grin. “I thought you’d never ask, my dear. And may I beg you to please call me Freddie? Only my grandmother called me Frederick. And only when I was in trouble.”

She grimaced. “Oh, I hope I’ve not been conjuring bad memories for you.”

He shook his head. “Thankfully, I was not in trouble often. We left that honor to my brother Julian.” A shadow passed over his face.