Pride and Pleasure

In short order, he spotted the cheery awning and his waiting carriage nearby. This time, it was Reynolds who remained out of view while Eliza entered the store. One of the most important lessons Lynd had taught Jasper was to surround himself with trustworthy staff and to pay them well enough to keep them happy. Better to have two people you trust with your life, than a dozen you can’t vouch for. Eliza appeared to have the same sensibility. Terrance Reynolds was paid handsomely. That fact was made obvious by the quality of his attire and his accessories, from his gold pocket watch to his leather satchel. In return, the man seemed genuinely fond of Eliza and intent on serving her interests well.

As Jasper entered the store, the bell above the door jingled to herald his arrival. The interior of the shop was perfectly sized for an establishment catering to the sense of smell. The air was fragrant without being overpowering. A variety of cloth-covered round tables were placed at set intervals around the room, displaying wares in colorful groupings.

He removed his hat.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

Jasper found the speaker to his left, arranging items on a tabletop in front of Eliza. The shopkeeper was young and beautiful, blond and blue-eyed. As shapely as a prized courtesan, but with the face of an angel. He bowed in greeting, then shifted his attention to Eliza. The hue of her hair made her initially more arresting to the eye than the paler tresses of the proprietress, but she lacked the fullness of curves and classic beauty of the other. That didn’t alter the fact that he found Eliza to be far more pleasing to look upon. From the first, she’d called to him on a physical level. There was raw magnetism between them, unique in its form. Bedding her would not be about the appeasement of his hunger, but a celebration of it. He’d never felt that for anyone else. With her it was the journey to be savored, not the destination.

“Miss Martin,” he drawled. “Fancy meeting you here. It’s a lovely day, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would indeed, Mr. Bond.” Her eyes sparkled with genuine pleasure. The manner in which she looked at him always stirred him. She lacked the artifice to hide how much she enjoyed his appearance.

Jasper couldn’t look away.

Eliza blushed when he continued to stare. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and a wash of heat swept over him.

He could arouse her with a glance. Did she know what that did to him?

“Is there something in particular I can help you find?” the blonde asked, excusing herself from Eliza. She wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, then gestured at the goods around them. “Floral or fruity? Musky or spicy? If you tell me the age and gender of the person you’re shopping for, I can help you find just the thing. Or I can create something unique.”

“What would you suggest for a young woman of discriminating taste, high intelligence, and deep passions? Nothing ordinary or expected, please. She is neither.”

“Is she a wife or a lover?”

He considered the inquiry a moment, both the boldness of the question and his possible answer.

“It’s best if I ask,” she explained, glancing back at Eliza. “Providing you with the best possible product will ensure both your future business and your referral, and I need one as much as the other.”

“How can I argue with that, Miss…?”

“Mrs. Pennington.” In close proximity, she appeared to be no older than Eliza.

“Why don’t I look around,” he suggested, “while you assist Miss Martin?”

Once again, Mrs. Pennington looked over her shoulder. “She’s selecting a half dozen of her favorite scented oils, which is what I would like you to do.”

“I will start with the same offerings, then.”

Mrs. Pennington gestured toward the back of the store. Jasper followed her prompting. As she opened up free space on a table, she continued to cast furtive glances at Eliza. Perhaps she feared thievery?

He held back and remained silent, not wanting to distract her from finishing her task as soon as possible. When she straightened, he listened to her instructions and assured her that he could whittle down the choices without further help.

When she left him, he watched her return to the front of the store and waited to see if she would eye him as often as she had Eliza. She did not. But Eliza did.

He’d never known it could be so arousing to be ogled. He supposed it was because he had never been ogled by the right person.

Once Eliza was home again, she stripped off her gloves in the foyer, then looked at the post lying on a silver salver atop the console table. She set aside the few letters for Melville that appeared to be of a personal nature and collected the rest, intent on taking them up to her room. She wanted nothing so much as something to eat and a cup of tea.

She was halfway up the stairs when Melville called her name from below. Turning on the step, she smiled at him. “Yes, my lord?”

“Could I have a moment of your time?” he queried, frowning while trying to straighten his crooked waistcoat.

“Of course.” As she descended, her gaze met the butler’s. “Could you ask Mrs. Potts to bring tea to his lordship’s laboratory?”

The servant’s tall and lean frame moved quickly out of range of her sight.

Eliza followed Melville around the base of the staircase and collected his mail at the console. They passed her study door, then turned to the right at the end of the parquet-lined hallway. The room where his lordship spent much of his time was there. She made a chastising clicking noise with her tongue when she found the drapes drawn tight. A copious number of candles were scattered around the room, offering plenty of light…and smoke.

“It’s a glorious day outside,” she chastised, dropping the day’s post onto one of the long, slender laboratory tables before moving briskly over to the windows. She drew the drapes aside, then systematically unlocked each of the windows lining the length of the wall and pushed up the sashes.

“Too bright,” his lordship groused, blinking like an owl.

“You need sunlight. We humans don’t thrive in dark places as mushrooms are wont to do.”

“Mushrooms!” He snapped his fingers. “Brilliant, Eliza.”

Melville quickly rounded his desk and began writing.

She pulled out one of the wooden stools that butted against a table bearing various-sized glass tubes and bottles. Waiting patiently, she blew out nearby candles that were unnecessary now that sunlight illuminated the large, disorganized space. The multitude of colorful liquids in jars cast jeweled beams of light onto the floor. In that moment, it was possible to see how Melville could become entranced by the mysteries he researched.

When Mrs. Potts bustled in with tea service on a tray, the intrusion seemed to snap his lordship into a renewed awareness of his location and his visitor.

“Oh, Eliza!” his lordship cried, scratching his head. “I apologize.”

Eliza laughed softly. “It’s quite all right.”

She enjoyed these quiet moments with her uncle. In addition to being the only family she had remaining, he did not seek to fill perfectly good moments of silence with inane chatter. She did not have to consider-and reconsider- everything she said, or phrase her words in ways that made them more understandable while also diluting their meaning.

Sliding off the stool, she stood in front of the tea service and began to prepare the tea.

“Montague paid a call on me today,” Melville said.

“Oh?” Her brows went up. “Why does that make me apprehensive?”

“Because you know why he came. He asked for permission to pay his addresses.”

Eliza’s breath left her in a rush. “Did he give you cause to believe I would welcome his offer?”

“On the contrary, he made it quite clear that while you find him to be one of the more agreeable of your suitors, you are not inclined to wed him.”

That made her smile. “Yet he made his request, regardless.”

“He was concerned by speculation regarding events at Somerset House yesterday. Some talk of your accident not truly being an accident at all.” His lordship accepted the cup and saucer she passed to him. “Why didn’t you tell me about what happened?”

“There was no need to bother you with the tale,” she protested. “It was unfortunate, but no harm was