Page 15 of A Virgin for the Rakish Duke (Romancing a Rake #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

H arriet touched the spot on her neck where the bee had stung her. The memory of that moment still sent shivers down her spine. She dismissed it from her thoughts.

The morning was bright, and the street she walked was bustling. She had never seen such a busy place, so full of life. She had no idea what London street she was on, only that she was heading approximately south, in the direction of the river.

After waking that morning, she had felt much refreshed and entirely recovered. Leaving the room, she had found Jeremy asleep in an armchair in the hallway outside, a blanket draped over him.

That had given her pause.

He had waited with her and ensured no possible scandal by sleeping outside in what must be an uncomfortable position.

She had resolved to repay his kindness by waking him and thanking him.

But as she had approached, the look of calm peace on his sleeping face was such that she could not bring herself to disturb him.

I will wait until he wakes, then. He saved my life, it is the least I can do, she had thought to herself. But at the end of the hallway, there had been a window, looking out over Harley Street towards Cavendish Square. And the sight of that river of people had intoxicated her.

A little wander will not hurt. Just to explore for a while. I will return eventually and find Jeremy having breakfast with the doctor, and all will be well.

She smiled as she walked, nodding amiably at gentlemen who doffed their hats to her.

Passing through a maze of narrow streets, she eventually emerged onto a broad avenue that seemed filled with shops of every size, shape, and color.

A sign attached to the side of a building proclaimed Oxford Street.

Ralph would never countenance allowing me to wander the streets of London alone. He would have apoplexy to see me now. But it feels wonderful to be free...

“There you are. I was worried,” Jeremy's voice came suddenly from behind her.

Harriet jumped, whirling to see him stepping out of a side street. She laughed at her own fright.

“Your Grace. I did not wish to wake you, but could not resist the pull of such a metropolis. I have never in my life been to London before, let alone by myself. It is simply wonderful!”

Jeremy looked around critically with a raised eyebrow. “It is a place like any other. Larger than most, I suppose.”

He stepped to her side, offering his arm dutifully, but Harriet skipped ahead of him, not yet willing to give up her freedom and be guided by a man.

Jeremy caught up with her in a handful of long-legged strides, reaching for her elbow once more.

She slipped away again with a teasing smile, before darting across the road, dodging around carriages and earning shouts of anger from the drivers.

Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Jeremy watching her. His face was taut, eyes narrowed in what looked like frustration—though she thought she saw the faint pull of a smile at his mouth. It made her grin in return. She slowed, waiting for him to find a gap in the traffic.

But Jeremy wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze had shifted up the street, his expression tightening into alarm. He looked back at her once, then turned and strode away, hand raised as if hailing someone.

Following his line of sight, Harriet saw Ralph walking toward them with a woman on his arm.

Her breath caught. Panic flared as she scanned for cover before he could turn and fix his eyes on her.

Jeremy was calling out to him now, drawing his full attention.

Ralph raised a hand in reply, then turned to speak to his companion—a movement that angled his head in Harriet’s direction. One upward glance and he would see her.

A carriage drew to a stop opposite, cutting her from view. Elderly matrons began to descend with the help of footmen. They wouldn’t delay long. Harriet’s gaze darted around. Behind her loomed a dressmaker’s shop. She dashed for its door, glancing back just as she reached it.

She could see Ralph through the two windows of the carriage.

His image was hazy in the two separate panes of glass, but she could see for certain it was him.

For one, horrifying moment, the distorted glass gave the illusion he was staring right back at her.

She fled into the shop, closing the door behind her.

Did he see me? If so, the game is up. He will be over here like a shot, and I will be locked up in my rooms for the rest of the year. Please, Lord, let him not have seen me...

“Welcome to Mrs. Painter’s dressmaking,” said a woman with bright yellow hair and a pale, powdered face with a beauty spot painted on one cheek. Her dress was yellow silk, extravagant and expensive-looking.

“We have the finest cloths and silks, and my seamstresses can create a dress suitable for a Royal ball. What is your pleasure, milady?”

Harriet gaped at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. She had no notion of what to ask for—even if she had the money to pay, which she didn't. Fashion had never been something she needed to consider.

“I am… in need of a new dress,” she managed finally, casting a look back over her shoulder.

The carriage had moved on, and she could see Ralph engaged in conversation with Jeremy across the street.

I am too close to this window. He may still be able to see me.

“Perhaps a material from over there?” she suggested quickly, pointing to shelves at the rear of the shop.

“Ah, a young lady of refined taste. That is my finest silk and satin. Maria Fitzherbert herself made her selection from those bolts only days ago.”

She waited as though the name should mean something to Harriet. It did not, but she exclaimed anyway, pretending it did. She let Mrs. Painter guide her towards the silks and begin showing her lengths of material, expounding on the color and texture.

Oh Lord, how am I to extricate myself from this situation without making myself look an utter fool? I cannot stay here too long, simply looking. Surely this woman will not allow that. And if I step outside, I will face the wrath of Ralph!

The door opened just then, and Ralph's faint voice reached her over the breeze. Harriet jumped, heart in mouth. Mrs. Painter stood between her and the door, blocking her view of who had entered.

“Yes, milord! Welcome to Mrs. Painter’s dressmaking. How may I be of assistance?”

“There you are, Lucy! I thought I had lost you in this damnable crowd,” boomed Jeremy.

Harriet's knees almost sagged with relief. She peeked around Mrs. Painter to see Jeremy striding towards her. As he reached her, he took her hands, smiling at her fondly.

“I am sorry to have left you. I bumped into an old friend of mine, Ralph, whom I think you've met. He kept me talking. He is shopping on Oxford Street this morning for his sister. A special treat, apparently.”

Harriet frowned.

“A special treat? Is it her birthday, perhaps?”

Jeremy's face said it was as much a mystery to him as to her.

“He would not say. He can be dratted tight-lipped at times when he wants to be. Anyway, I said we would be in here a while. He's likely to be up and down Oxford Street for the rest of the morning.”

Jeremy's eyes held hers for a long moment, communicating much.

“Well, I can think of no finer place to spend my morning,” Harriet replied, smiling brightly and hoping it looked convincing.

“My fiancée, Lucy Buxton,” Jeremy said to Mrs. Painter, “requires a dress for a formal occasion. No expense to be spared. I should like your full attention and not to be disturbed. How much to close your shop for the rest of the day?”

Mrs. Painter's eyes lit up with avarice, and she went to some lengths to assure Jeremy that no one would be given admittance while Harriet was choosing her material. She hurried away to lock the door and close the blinds over the shop windows.

Harriet rose to tiptoes to whisper into Jeremy's ear.

“What are you doing? I cannot afford to have a dress made.”

“I can,” Jeremy whispered back.

“No, I will not allow it,” Harriet said furiously, “I will not be beholden to you.”

“Fine. Then let us step out of the shop and into your brother,” Jeremy hissed back.

“What is he doing here! He is supposed to have left for Bristol by now!”

“I do not know. I was telling the truth about him wishing to have a dress made for you.

That is what he told me, but he would not say why.

The woman with him is one Henrietta Phail, who is sister to a wealthy young lord whose father owns land in the highlands of Scotland.

She is a friend of your brother's and supposedly here to advise him on his choice. Why, I do not know.”

Harriet frowned, glancing towards the shop's large front window. There was no sign of either Ralph or the lady he was with.

Could she be his paramour? I have never heard him speak of a woman of whom he is particularly fond.

“Oh, what does it matter!” she exclaimed, suddenly feeling under unbearable pressure, “I cannot let him see me! What am I to do?”

“ We are to stay here for two hours. Ralph said that he and Miss Henrietta are going to elevenses at half past eleven with Lady Caroline of Somerset. If we remain out of sight for two hours, we can slip away once we know they have left.”

He sounded calm, and his words brought some reassurance to Harriet.

“Regardless, I cannot accept such a lavish present from you,” she insisted.

“Why-ever not? Besides, we must give this good lady some recompense for sequestering her shop for two hours. She will be losing money otherwise.”

Harriet had to admit the rightness of that. But it did not sit right with her that she should be even more indebted to this man.

He has saved my life and comforted me when the carriage crashed and I was distraught. I feel in his debt already.

That moment brought a sick feeling to her stomach. The fear of the carriage lurching and breaking around her was a visceral one.

“Are you quite well?” Jeremy asked suddenly, “it was only yesterday you were at death's door. You have gone quite pale.”

Harriet realized that in his concern, he had taken her arm, holding her gently by her elbow. Her dress left her arms bare, and he did not wear gloves. The feel of his skin against hers sent warm ripples coursing through her.

How can a single touch do this to a person? It is not fair. I do not have any discernible effect on him, and yet his merest touch reduces me to knee trembling...

“I—I am well,” she blurted. “Merely thinking of the carriage yesterday. It gives me chills to think on.”

“Then do not think on it,” he said simply. “It is a rare circumstance, I promise.”

He held her now by both arms, drawing her closer to him. Harriet felt cold, a shiver running through her.

Is that the fear that Mama experienced? In her final moments, as the accident unfolded. The same as I felt yesterday? I thought I was to die.

Emotion surged within her, and she fought to control it. But tears were coming unbidden and unstoppable now. Jeremy held her close to him, putting his arms around her. She clutched him, trembling uncontrollably. His firmness was comforting, his strength undeniable. He was a rock.

I must get control of myself. I do not want to be dependent on him or any man. I want to be free!

“Oh my, do excuse me!” Mrs. Painter exclaimed as she came bustling over, “I don’t mean to interrupt...”

“My fiancé and I had a bad experience yesterday, thanks to a bad road and a faulty carriage. She is still shaken,” Jeremy assured, “do you have a private room where she might recover herself?”

“But of course. There is a dressing room just behind with curtains for privacy while your young lady tries on her gowns,” Mrs. Painter informed.

“I shall bring in some of my off-the-peg garments to give you some ideas, and have my girls bring you some hot tea. Nothing like hot tea to settle the nerves.”

Before long, they were sequestered in the dressing room with the door closed and several gowns hanging from pegs on the wall. A tray held a steaming teapot and two cups with a jar of honey. Harriet could not help gaping openly at the dresses.

So lovely! I cannot help but be envious of those women who think nothing of coming somewhere like this and selecting a new gown!

“Are you feeling better?” Jeremy asked solicitously.

“Much,” Harriet smiled back, “I do not know where it came from. I have felt simply wonderful all morning. Until Ralph appeared anyway.”

“Delayed shock, probably brought on by the secondary shock of seeing your brother where you did not expect him,” Jeremy remarked.

He reclined in a seat, his tight breeches showing off the elegant line of his legs. Harriet sat opposite, on the edge of her seat, and tried to keep her eyes away from him. She did not want to be caught staring.

“So, what are we to do for the next two hours?” she asked, her eyes flitting to the dresses again.

They are very fine. Like precious stones. Simply beautiful. I would feel like a princess wearing any of them... That would be so nice.

“I suggest you begin by trying on a dress.”