Page 26 of Her Temporary Duke (Rakes and Roses #2)

“ I feel as though I have been through a wringer, Marie…” Charlotte said tiredly.

Both mistress and maid sat together in a corner of Mrs. McCrae’s milliner shop within the grandiose Burlington Arcade.

Beyond the shop windows, tens of dozens of ladies and gentlemen paraded.

Some looked into store fronts admiringly, others entered, followed by servants to carry their purchases.

Charlotte had been told to bring Marie on this trip to collect hats for which she and her cousins had been measured.

Measured before I arrived, so I did not know of it until Marie told me of the appointment. I would rather be at Prescott Estate waiting for the post, which may bring word of Amelia.

Or she could be waiting for Seth. That thought sent a thrill through her.

A thought entered her mind of Seth coming to the house while Aunt Phyllis and the others were out.

Of Charlotte being alone with him behind a locked door.

Marie would not have betrayed her, she was sure.

The very idea put a flush to her cheeks.

Almost immediately, she felt a breath of cooling air.

Looking around, she saw that Marie had quietly produced a fan.

“You seemed flushed, milady,” she said, “I believe that Lady Amelia added many books to the library on the subject of etiquette. She was quite the expert.”

“I know that now, but did not realise that the Regent’s mistress would want to educate herself and choose me for the teacher,” Charlotte groaned unwomanly.“I shall avail myself of those books at the earliest opportunity to hopefully preclude further awkward situations.”

“Did Her Ladyship believe you in your answers?” Marie asked.

The Willoughby girls were being helped by one of the apprentices whom Mrs. McCrae employed. Aunt Phyllis sat nearby, making comments about their choices of color or fabric and looking towards Charlotte for validation occasionally.

“I hope so. She gave me some odd looks,” Charlotte shrugged, “but it was such trivial nonsense. I thought that I envied Amelia for her life in London, but if it must constantly be filled with such trivialities, then I am not so sure anymore. Like, for example, when should a woman reply to a letter from a man of superior rank when it is the first such correspondence and the gentleman is a suitor?”

Marie shrugged. “I should say as soon as possible if the lady does not want the gentleman to think she is not interested.”

“And that is the answer I gave!” Charlotte shot her hands into the air helplessly, “but it did not seem to satisfy. The Marchioness Conyngham was full of questions, such as whether there has been an acknowledgement of interest or not. Or if that acknowledgement has been verbal or non-verbal, or if the man is a Duke, or an Earl, or...”

She shook her head. The dresses and the spectacle of London society had always drawn her enviously. But this aspect left her cold.

Is that what Amelia must concern herself with every day? Navigating a labyrinthine set of rules governing how men and women must speak to each other, address each other, and interact in every conceivable way? It is no wonder that she felt a respite was necessary for her good health.

“It is all so very different to Yorkshire,” Charlotte finished weakly.

“I imagine your life there is the same as mine here when it comes to that kind of thing. I wouldn’t worry about rules when it comes to a man I have my eye on,” Marie said honestly.

“Then we should all be more like you,” she nodded.

“I would just speak up and let him know. Then he can go about the task of courting me. Otherwise, how are they to know?” the maid rambled on.

Well, Seth certainly knows. And yet we have said to each other that we are playing a role for the sake of this dratted solicitor and the marriage clause in Seth’s father’s will. Not because we are actually in love.

She put the thought out of her mind. Even if Seth wished to be with her, would it ever happen? He would surely not put Charlotte before his lands and title, and they were very much at stake if he did not prove in the next three weeks that Amelia did not wish to wed him.

How would he look upon me if my family cost him everything? Not favorably, to be sure.

“Lady Amelia, I have your hat here for you to try on,” chimed the young apprentice from the far side of the room, after finishing with Aunt Phyllis.

It was Victoria, the girl Reginald had set his sights on.

Charlotte rose and went to stand before the full-length dress mirror in the middle of the shop.

Victoria had blonde hair tied back from a round face with fresh cheeks and pretty, blue eyes.

She met Charlotte in the middle, then held the hat out for her to take.

Charlotte fixed it upon her head or at least tried to. It did not pull down as far as she would have expected.

Perhaps this is as far as hats of this kind go.

But Victoria was examining it critically, and presently, Mrs. McCrae broke away from her conversation with Aunt Phyllis to join in. Mrs. McCrae was a plump Scotswoman with graying hair and rosebud lips. She also had sharp eyes, which narrowed as she looked at the hat from all directions.

“This is too small, Victoria. You have misread my measurements,” Mrs. McCrae was saying.

“That is impossible, Mrs. McCrae,” Victoria furrowed her brows, “I… I checked thrice.”

“Well, I measured Lady Amelia myself, and I did not make a mistake, but it is clear to anyone with eyes that this does not fit.”

Looking at herself in the mirror, Charlotte thought it fit rather well, though a touch tight. But Victoria and Mrs. McCrae were looking at it as though it were a shabby rag.

“If I may, Lady Amelia?” Victoria asked, reaching for the hat.

Charlotte pulled it off and handed it to the young girl, who proceeded to measure it in various dimensions. Mrs. McCrae had produced a notebook from her pocket and was flipping through the pages.

“Here we are!” she said brusquely and read out a series of numbers.

Victoria confirmed each one against her measurements of the hat.

At the end, both women looked at Charlotte with perplexed expressions.

Charlotte looked back in confusion, not knowing what they found so fascinating.

At that moment, the door to the shop swung open, and Reginald stumbled in, bearing a box bound in red ribbon.

“Hullo, Mama. Ladies ,” he greeted the room brightly. “I bear a gift from the Royal Chocolate House: Mr. Tosier’s finest chocolate drops with nonpareil topping. There is plenty for your apprentices, too, Mrs. McCrae, if they like chocolate. Do you like chocolate? Victoria, isn’t it?”

He looked at Victoria, who was blushing furiously, and dropped the hat she was holding. Mrs. McCrae scolded her furiously as she scooped it from the ground.

“I do, milord,” Victoria answered in a small voice.

“Please take some,” Reginald undid the ribbon with a flourish and opened the box.

He held it out to Victoria, stepping closer to her.

“Are your family not to be offered any first, Reginald?” Aunt Phyllis inquired from the back of the shop.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Reginald grimaced, but did not move. “Well, I’ve offered now, haven’t I? It would be rude. Please take some,” he said to Victoria.

She picked one of the flattened chocolate circles out and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sighed rapturously. Charlotte saw Reginald smile in delight at the reaction.

“They are heavenly, thank you, milord,” the young girl smiled.

“You are most welcome, my dear,” Reginald bowed with a flourish.

For a moment, he simply stared at her until Francis cleared her throat, glaring at the box pointedly.

“You are quite hopeless, Reginald. So topsy turvy to offer the help a selection before your mother and sisters.”

“I suppose I am rather upside down sometimes,” Reginald replied, still smiling.

He handed the box to his sister and promptly seemed to forget about it, turning back to Victoria, who had been handed Charlotte’s hat back again.

“Neither my measurements nor your interpretation of them are at fault,” Mrs. McCrae murmured grudgingly. “It seems you made a hat precisely according to the measurements I gave you last month. It is the ladies’ head that is at fault.”

Charlotte suddenly felt as though all eyes turned to her head. Reginald frowned.

“Oh dear, has your head swelled since you were last here, cousin?” he asked innocently, “I hear such things happen when one becomes friends with royalty.”

“I should say so,” Claire put in, popping a series of chocolates into her mouth from a small pile in her hand, “I hear that our cousin there has become an indispensable advisor to the Marchioness Conyngham on the subject of etiquette.”

“I merely ventured my opinion when asked. I hardly know her,” Charlotte frowned.

“Irrespective, the discrepancy is the opposite to that which you describe, milord,” Mrs. McCrae added, “Lady Amelia’s head is smaller than it was when I measured her last month.”

Charlotte was lost for words for a moment. She had not anticipated that she would not be identical to Amelia in every way. But, it seemed there were some differences between them. Perhaps not apparent to the naked eye, but when it came to a professional hat maker...

Reginald looked at her; his smile faded. He had a speculative look on his face. He narrowed his eyes briefly, shrewdly.

“Well, I have never heard the like. Perhaps you are wearing your hair differently,” Aunt Phyllis put in.

“I’m sure that is the reason,” Mrs. McCrae said, “ Victoria, kindly measure Lady Amelia again, and I will show you the relevant alterations to be made.”

“I do not recall your hair being any different now compared to then,” Reginald pointed out.

“You are a man, Reggie,” Francis scoffed, already dismissing the incident to admire her own hat in a mirror. “It is such a shame I did not ask for green,” she muttered to herself distractedly.

“Green is not this season’s color,” Mrs. McCrae said distractedly, guiding Charlotte to a chair and taking out her measuring tape.

“My niece, dear Amelia, is an expert in all matters pertaining current trends, Mrs. McCrae, and she maintains that it is,” Aunt Phyllis declared with no little pride.

“Oh? Then, I must be mistaken. You truly are a pioneer, Lady Amelia. I have hardly been asked for green at all, not for some years,” Mrs. McCrae conceded.

Reginald deliberately took a seat, regarding Charlotte with a wariness she did not enjoy.

I never saw my cousin as perceptive or particularly shrewd, but I think he is beginning to see through my subterfuge. Of course, it matters little to me, but it would be a disaster for Seth and my sister.

She forced a smile and shrugged.

“Such are the vagaries of fashion that a person can be right one moment and out of date the next. All it takes is enough people disagreeing.”

“Very true, I have been on the wrong end of a trend more than once,” Mrs. McCrae said, leaping to Charlotte’s rescue without even realizing it.

“While we are grateful for the chocolates, it is time for you to leave us to our business, Reginald,” Aunt Phyllis chided gently, much to Charlotte’s relief, “this is no place for a gentleman.”

“Indeed, Mama. I shall make myself scarce. I have business that must be attended to anyway. Now, if you will excuse me, ladies.”

Reginald took his leave with a final glance at Victoria. She had begun taking fresh measurements from Charlotte while Mrs. McCrae and Aunt Phyllis helped themselves to chocolates.

“He cares for you greatly,” Charlotte whispered to Victoria.

Perhaps if I help Reginald with this matter, he will forget his suspicions about me.

“Whatever do you mean, my lady?” Victoria said, even as her blush gave the lie of her words.

“It is plain to see. He is fond of you and you of him,” Charlotte shrugged. “There is no shame in that.”

“He is a Lord, and I an apprentice milliner,” Victoria chuckled awkwardly.

“That ought not mean a thing,” she said wisely. “The Regent’s mistress is a commoner or at least was at birth,” she added, passing on a piece of courtly gossip she had picked up from her little time at Hampton Court.

“Perhaps, but he is the Regent...”

“If you care for him, then that is all that matters. Reginald will surely not let his rank come between the pair of you.”

The young girl gaped. “Oh, no, it is not an issue at all for me!”

“Then I see no reason why he cannot court you,” Charlotte finished with a knowing smile.

Victoria looked around and leaned closer to Charlotte, seeing her employer deep in conversation.

“The truth is… that I fear he holds back. I think he wishes to purchase an establishment of my own for me. To help set me right and provide me with independence. He keeps talking about showing me the depth of his affection. But I do not need such extravagance. I am content with my lot in life. A husband such as he would be a dream come true. Even if he came without a shilling to his name.”

Charlotte thought back to Reginald’s request for funds. So, it was not gambling debts as she had originally supposed, but to purchase a shop for Victoria in order to win her over. And here she was, already won over.

“But that will not happen regardless. There is another of his station in life, and she has the advantage over me, I fear,” Victoria finished with a downcast expression in her eyes.

Charlotte remembered Reginald’s words, how he did not want Victoria to believe he was interested in that other woman, whoever she was.

“She does not,” Charlotte said with enough confidence as she could muster, “take it from me. I have it from Reginald himself that he does not care for her. It is an arrangement made on his behalf, not a matter of the heart.”

“Oh, but for men like Reginald, such arrangements take precedence over affairs of the heart,” Victoria reminded gently, “he must think of his duty to his title and family. The Lady Madeleine Oakley will always have that over me.”

“Are you taking measurements or distracting my customers?” Mrs. McCrae put in sharply, “If it is the latter, then you have more pressing business to be about.”

“It was my fault, Mrs. McCrae. I kept Victoria talking,” Charlotte eased with a guilty smile.

Victoria hurried away, and Charlotte thought about Reginald. She could not help him reach his goal of an extravagantly expensive gift to win Victoria, but perhaps she could free him from the arrangement he was part of with Lady Madeleine Oakley.

And perhaps if I do, he will forget those suspicions that I could see forming in his mind today, and thus protect Seth and Amelia from ruin.