Behind her, Yvette confirmed the theory. “She’s right, Sally Ann is. My sister done got poisoned by the groom’s seed and she’s grown two inches in the bosom already!”
“Poisoned?” Thea whispered, glancing toward Suzette. Madame had dropped to her knees again and was humming over the hem, a nice, calm tune that told Thea she much approved.
“’E got her with child,” Suzette explained, “with no plans to claim her or the baby.”
Not to be left out, Josette poked her head between them. “Well, my mum told me that after you suckle your first babe, the pair of ’em will be drooping an’ saggin’ down so far on your chest, you’ll wish—”
“Josette! Zee lips—zey are to be shut!” Madame V was back, the relaxed interlude over. “Hush zee mouth or I shall pin it shut with zee hammer!”
“A pin? Don’t you mean nail it shut?” Suzette asked, and Thea laughed, earning a glare from the dressmaker and another round of grumpy fittings when the perfectionistic seamstress decided to start over by modifying an altogether different dress.
“If you want this finished for tonight,” Madame V gritted out some time later, “you best leave off talking and twitching!” She grumbled a curse, then seemed to realize this wasn’t the best way to address a new customer. Stretching her lips into a semblance of a smile one might expect to find on a beached barracuda, she added, “Zee rest will be ready for zee fittings three days hence. I will ezpect you at zee shop during regular hours.”
“At your shop?”
“Wee, Meezes Hurwell. Henceforth, you’ll come to my place of business, in Leicester Square, for zee remainder. For even zee indomitable Lord Tremayne, I refuse to close shop for another full day. Further business will be conducted there, and that is final!”
“Yes, ma’am. Aye, aye.”
“One could wish your arse had as much cheek as your mouth,” Madame muttered beneath her breath, her head bent over a delicate seam she was taking apart.
Thea caught Suzette’s gaze and the two shared another smile.
“One could,” Thea said clearly, barely suppressing a laugh at the audible rrrriiiippppp that followed.
“Does he do this a lot—order fittings?” Thea asked, the next time Lord Tremayne’s name was mentioned, this time by one of the girls, who was complimenting his manly physique (to the titters of the other two, and the narrowed gaze of Madame). It had been in response to Thea’s curiosity over the vast array they’d brought, which she was informed he’d had a hand in. “Make selections and choose fabrics and patterns?”
It seemed an odd occupation for the man she was coming to know.
“For his sister, he did,” Madame answered distractedly, pinning in the sides so the dress didn’t hang like zee sack. “Before she was married.”
Before she was married.
Which still didn’t tell Thea if he was…
“Only moments ago, my son confessed his folly,” Everson said without preamble when Daniel was shown to the book-lined study where both men waited.
After nodding at the butler who pulled the door shut after Daniel entered, Everson, he continued. “In his overzealousness, I regret Thomas badgered you unpardonably. Please be assured, Lord Tremayne, it will not happen again.”
Everson’s proclamation totally threw Daniel’s carefully rehearsed opener out the window.
Twice he opened his mouth; twice he closed it. A heavy silence filled the air as they waited for him to respond. Tom snuck covert glances toward Daniel, his expression alternating between guilt and ill-concealed adoration. Everson looked at him steadily, confident that his son wasn’t about to be raked over the coals any more than he’d apparently seen to.
The stalwart support in this family continued to astonish him.
Leaning his walking stick against the back of a heavy chair, Daniel caught each man’s gaze with his own. “Aye. Well.” He stalled, thinking swiftly. “I owe…both you fine gentlemen a sincere ap-p—” Dammit! “’Ology,” he finished, trying not to curse aloud at the blunder.
All blasted morning he’d debated on how to proceed. Debated on whether to confess his badgered B’s, destructive D’s, and all-around abhorrence of public conversation. Well, ever since he’d dispatched John with the proper purse of coins and folded notes to ensure Ellie’s most favored dressmaker’s presence at Thea’s.
Did he now accept Everson’s apology and bow out? Escape home with none the wiser? Even though he was the one in the wrong (arriving a day late, being unpardonably rude)? Or did he go against everything instilled in him since earliest childhood and—
Tom made the decision for him. “L-l-l-lllord Tremayne, Fa-Father is rrrrrrrrright-t-t-t, he is. I knew better than-than-than to ac-c-c-c-cost you but I-I—”
All it took to halt the eager and contrite youth was a wave of Daniel’s hand.
When Tom fell silent, Everson nodded to his son. “That will be all, Thomas. You may—”
“No. P-please,” Daniel said, determined to face his unmasking like the man he strived to be and not as the coward his father had made him. “Stay, Tom, please. I have words for you b-b-both.”
He could see Everson’s eyes narrowing, as though he suspected foul play was afoot, about to be brought down around his cherished son. Oh, to be that loved and protected!
The muscles in his neck clamped into a block. His next two attempts at speech were garbled beyond recognition. Damn.
Damn-damn! He would not let his body betray him again. Not now. Too much was at stake.
He might only face two men and not the several that loomed, but these were men whose opinions mattered. Whose respect he wanted to deserve. Needed to earn.
Those noddies in Wylde’s committee? That was duty.
This? This was honor.
Daniel picked up the walking stick, determined for once to be “charmed” by his sister’s incantated concoctions and, despite the fiery siege laying claim to his throat, he forged onward.
“Nay. Please—” Daniel tried to speak swiftly, to explain before he was tossed out
