Page 65 of A Treacherous Bet to Win a Duchess

“To Louxbridge.”

Yes, this was a strange situation to be in, but Meredith decided she was going to embrace it.

Chapter 22

“Cherries! Ripe as can be. Cherries! Cherries, sir? Come on! Who doesn’t love a sweet cherry?”

Anthony barely restrained himself from shuddering as he politely declined the burly woman’s offer of cherries and other produce that appeared to be coated in a layer of grime, ash, and soot. But Anthony couldn’t blame the woman or her wares for it seemed the entire town of Louxbridge was covered with the same depressing layer of black dirt.

It was dismaying that their first day out together was not at all going according to what Anthony had planned or hoped for. The town seemed completely overtaken by factories and mills producing all sorts of merchandise, whereas Anthony was under the impression that it would have been an idyllic or quaint town focused on sheepherding or whatever it is that people did in those sorts of towns.

Presently, he was escorting Meredith and Mrs. Oakley—both of whom were also dressed inconspicuously—around the town center as they puzzled over what else they could do apart from look at the grey factories and the pillars of smoke that they billowed.

“Anthony, are you all right? Today’s weather has been quite warm. I’m worried that you might be uncomfortable.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Meredith. I’m perfectly fine.”

He lied.

On principle, Anthony did not condone deceit, but he excused himself on this occasion because the last thing he needed was for Meredith to feel even more uneasy.

It’s this scratchy shirt and ill-fitting boots that have put me in a state. How is one supposed to think clearly when one’s entire body is being itched and irritated with every hellish movement.

Around every corner, Anthony saw dozens of men, young and old, who were dressed in a similar fashion. Internally, he applauded them for their abilities to carry on in their work despite their own scratchy shirts. Externally, he tried to seem indifferent to it all, the hot sun that continued to grow hotter still, the aforementioned smoke and grime, and this blasted itchy shirt.

“Meredith?”

For a moment, he forgot the itchy shirt. Not completely, but he was distracted enough.

That’s strange. I thought someone was calling for Meredith. But it couldn’t have been Mrs. Oakley because it was a man’s voice. And it couldn’t have been me because, well, it wasn’t me.

“Meredith! Over here!”

* * *

Meredith located the source of the shouting.

Ian stood across the busy street waving at her frantically. As they waited for him to cross, Meredith flashed a quick smile at Anthony to indicate that she had the situation under control.

Ian tipped his hat and immediately exclaimed.

“What a surprise to see you here! Are you here to run errands or did you perhaps get lost on your way to the orphanage?” he teased.

Meredith laughed in an attempt to seem unconcerned.

“Oh, just exploring. I most certainly did not expect to find you here, dearest Ian.”

“No, of course not. We are in the process of opening another glass-making factory a few streets from here. I was just on my way back to my inn for some lunch. What about you?”

She heard a small cough on her right hand side and noticed Anthony was wearing an expectant half-smile.

Discreetly, she took a deep breath. Knowing Ian’s negative disposition towards the upper class meant that things could get very sticky very quickly.

“Mrs. Oakley, please allow me to introduce my childhood friend, Ian Lockhart. Ian, this is Mrs. Oakley, the head housekeeper at Ambrose Estate.”

She waited for them to finish exchanging greetings before saying, “And this is Anthony er, Guy, one of the helpers at the stables.”

* * *