Lydia nodded her approval. “That would be lovely, Mama.” She had spotted a magenta velvet off to one side and directed their mother’s attention to it. “Might I have a new riding habit, Mama? This is beautiful.”
Mama put her finger to her lips. “I had a similar colour in mind for your sister, but if you have set your heart on it, and if Lilian has no objection, I see no reason to refuse. It would be most charming on you.”
All eyes turned towards Lilian. “I am happy with whatever you decide, Mama, truly.”
“Ah, chèrie, you will be happy. Wait and see.” Madame Chandos shepherded her mother and sister to view the pattern books.
Lilian did not feel any real need to choose. Her mother and Lydia knew her taste, and it was uncomfortable with the wheel-chair. Instead, she moved over to the counter where the ribbons and other fripperies were arranged, just as the door tinkled open. A blonde woman entered, wearing a yellow and black striped satin gown and a matching black hat with large black feathers. She turned, and Lilian recognized her immediately as Lady Poinz. What was the widow Poinz doing here? Lilian had never noticed her before the ball in London earlier in the month—but then, the woman had only come to her attention because of her flirtatious behaviour towards Lord Harlow. A cold tremor ran over her body.
“Good day.” The woman stepped in her direction.
At that moment, Madame Chandos hurried to the front of the shop. “Lady Poinz, may I be of assistance?” she asked nervously.
Mama and Lydia walked up from behind. “Madame, I believe that you have an understanding of our requirements. I shall await your pleasure in due course. We must away; I am expecting guests.”
Lady Poinz looked first towards Mama and then at Lilian. “There is no need to hurry away on my account, but if I might ask a tiny favour?” Pausing briefly, she continued, “Lady Lilian, when you next see Lord Harlow, please be sure to give him my sincerest regards.” A smile flickered on her lips.
Her mother drew herself up and stepped closer to Lilian, meeting Lady Poinz’s stare. “I am sure you can drop him a note, should you have a message to deliver, Catherine,” she said in hushed tones. Her eyes flashed with anger.
A moment of silence ensued as the women appeared to take measure of each other.
“Countess, I do not care for your tone,” the woman hissed.
“Indeed? Your sensibilities mean nothing to me. I do not care for your bonnet,” her mother said icily. Pointedly, she turned to her friend. “If you will excuse us, Madame Chandos? Thank you for your time and I will look for your best attentions, as usual. You will send word when the gowns are complete?”
“Yes, your ladyship, the moment they are ready.”
Chapter 14
A bright afternoon sun woke him. Glancing outside at the position of the golden orb, Harlow judged he had slept for several hours. He pulled out his pocket watch, hoping he had not overslept. Three hours had passed; while it was more than he had expected, they had both been bone weary. The nap had done him good. Once dressed, he walked next door and tapped on Max’s door.
“’Tis open, Harlow.”
Harlow pushed open the door to find Max pulling on his boots. “Do you allow anyone to enter?” He scoffed playfully at his friend.
“I knew it was you. I heard you stamping into your boots and knew you had finished dressing. I presumed you would be here to check on me.” Max covered his bed with the sheet and blanket provided and plumped up his pillows. Without turning, he spoke, “Military training, in case you are thinking of chiding me. It is nice to go to sleep in a bed that looks like no one has slept in it before you.”
“I want to laugh, I swear I do,” Harlow answered, “despite the fact I do the same thing.” He stared at the bed. “I wish that had been the only habit I had kept from the army,” he added bleakly.
They found Michael mucking out a stall. The young man set his pitchfork against the wall and helped saddle the horses.
“Good day to you, m’lords. Yon smith replaced two of the shoes on this one.” He pointed to Max’s horse, Willow. “He replaced the left hind on this one.” He patted Harlow’s horse on the rump. “I’ve fed ’em both some sweet hay and oats and brushed ’em well.”
“Thank you.” Harlow tossed him two silver shillings. “Give one to the smith for his work and keep the other for yourself.”
“Thank ye kindly, m’lord!” The young man fingered the shillings in his hands and immediately secured them in his pocket.
Harlow mounted his mare. “One more thing.”
“M’lord?” The ostler looked up.
“I hesitate to ask…have you seen a lady in a red dress? We thought we recognized a friend earlier, a lady who was partaking of luncheon when we arrived. Unfortunately, we just missed her. She left through the side door as we were entering the dining room.”
Michael’s eyes shifted nervously, and he cast a sidelong glance. Satisfied they were not being observed, he edged closer.
“M’lords, pardon me impudence, I know that one ain’t no friend of yourn. She comes ’ere often—stays at the tavern across the way. She is a mean one.” He paused, still watchful. “And ’ave a care, the walls about ’ere ’ave ears.” The young man grimaced and lightly tipped his brown felt hat. He cast about the yard once again before walking to the stable door and collecting his pitchfork.
“That was odd,” Harlow reflected aloud as soon as they had passed the first few buildings.
“It certainly was,” Max replied.
“The post office should be about a quarter of a mile down this road, on the right. DeLacey may be there already.” Harlow muttered.
Max took a big sniff of the air and spoke up loudly as a farmer in a
