Hattie swiftly collected the chosen materials. “It will be my pleasure to make this up for you. Don’t concern yourself about the difference in price between the two hats.
“Then you must at least accept a little something for yourself as you have been a patient listener.” Her ladyship reached into her handbag.
Hattie shook her head. “No need for a tip. It has been a pleasure meeting your ladyship. I look forward to serving you again.”
For a moment, Cromwell studied her as if seeing Hattie’s face for the first time, assessing her character, and finding her something more than an eager-to-please pup. “Thank you, my dear. I shall recommend your fine establishment to all of my friends.”
Cromwell left the shop, trailing perfume and her hired boy behind her.
“Who was that?” Rose asked when she and Hattie were finally alone.
“A new customer, Lady Anne Cromwell. She will likely be quite an asset, if she spreads word of the shop among her ilk.”
Rose opened the returned box to look at the returned hat. “Oh, her. Mr. Hardy’s former lover.”
Hattie took the hat and tossed it onto the head of a nearby mannequin. “It disturbs me that you are so wise in the ways of the world, Rose.”
“Didn’t we agree that young women should not remain overprotected and naïve?” Rose pointed out. “What was she like, this Lady Cromwell, and what did she have to say about Hardy?”
“We talked of her hat. That is all.”
Cromwell’s well-bred voice proclaiming Guy a wonderful lover but a shallow person resounded in Hattie’s mind. She had judged him exactly that way upon their first meeting. But since then she had learned the man possessed a kind and caring heart. He was quick to aid those in need and seemed sincere in his desire to become a man of more substance. Surely, that spoke of good character. Or was she deluding herself because that is what she wanted to believe?
Rose continued, “Despite being what they call a ladies’ man, I think Mr. Hardy seems a very nice fellow. He makes you laugh. Recently, you seem the happiest you’ve been since I met you, and your outing yesterday has put color in your cheeks.”
“What makes you imagine I went on an outing with him?”
“Because there is a brand-new bicycle in the work room, a mud-stained skirt waiting to go out with the laundry, and I have eyes to see with. You are smitten,” Rose replied smugly.
“Stuff and nonsense.”
Rose only smiled and returned to her duties. Where had the shy girl afraid of overstepping boundaries with her employer got to?
The afternoon passed slowly until Hattie could finally close the shop. She fretted over choosing the correct frock for her supper with Guy. Was it to be a formal meal in the lavish dining room she’d peeked into on the way to the parlor? Or was he planning a more intimate repast?
She lay out her only formal dress on the bed, and a plainer gown beside it. The rose silk with tulle overskirt would enhance her complexion, but the plain gold satin shift skimmed smoothly over her hips to emphasize her shape. Its clean lines and lack of adornment won her favor.
After bathing, dressing, and arranging her hair, Hattie feared it was still too early to leave. They had not set a precise time, and she didn’t wish to appear too eager. But after standing for nearly a half hour so she wouldn’t crease her dress, Hattie could bear the wait no longer. She donned her hat and coat and hired a taxi to deliver her to Guy’s house.
His brick residence in a quiet neighborhood was set back from the street behind a wrought iron fence. A paved walkway meandered through a cunning garden to a front door beneath a pillared portico. The ivy draping the house was trimmed to crisply outline the windows. The entire effect was of a charming country cottage—except the dwelling was much larger and in one of the better London districts.
This restrained display of wealth served to remind Hattie of the difference between her station and Guy’s. If they began an affair, it would not be a meeting of equals. A future which included marriage was out of the question. If Hattie could accept that obvious fact, she might proceed, but if not, she must curb her desire. The choice between a passionate liaison and mere friendship might well come to a crossroads tonight.
Simmons met her at the door as he had that afternoon, poker-faced and grim. He took her wrap and hat before escorting her to the drawing room where Guy awaited her.
He turned to greet her, a scorching gaze scanning her from head to toe and making her quite happy she’d chosen the gold gown. His smile left her shy yet pleased at his naked appreciation. Her nipples tightened beneath her bodice. Since the gown was tight, she had eschewed a corset and now feared the bumps might be outlined by the fabric. But she refrained from crossing her arms over her chest.
“Welcome. Supper should be ready in about an hour. Meanwhile, may I show you around my home? When I bought the house, I tore out everything. Had it wired for electricity, as you can see, and installed a new plumbing system. If one is going to live in the modern world, it is best to embrace all the conveniences, don’t you think?”
She turned in a slow circle observing the room’s fresh design. “This Art Nouveau style is simply breathtaking.”
The golden oak furniture was embellished with carved vines and leaves and inlays of mother-of-pearl. Tiffany lampshades cast a colorful glow, and the palest green leaf-patterned wallpaper and carpet created a forest setting. The nature-inspired design extended even to the asymmetrical curved archway over the room’s entrance, a replica of a climbing vine.
“Thank
