“Do you know of what they speak?” Frequent meetings could mean they were planning something. If so, Joseph wanted to know what it was.
His father might not care what happened to the people who depended on the Caldwell estate for their livelihood, but Joseph did. Anything he could do now to provide additional income would lessen the problems he’d face when he inherited.
“No.” Yet the wrinkle of her brow suggested she knew or suspected something.
He waited a moment, but she said nothing more. “If you happen to hear any details, please let me know.”
Her mouth tightened, and for a moment, he feared she’d refuse. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you.”
“I should be going,” she said.
“Are you sure there isn’t something you’d like to buy while you’re here?”
Again, she glanced at the lace trim with the fancy shells but immediately shook her head. “No. I don’t need anything.”
Perhaps. But sometimes, it was nice to have something simply because one wanted it. He didn’t press her when it would only make her uncomfortable.
“It was nice to see you, Joseph.” Her gaze held on him, raking over his face, making him wonder what she saw. To his surprise, she leaned close and hugged him, albeit awkwardly.
He kissed her cheek, his heart squeezing with regret. “Take care, Mother.”
She nodded and walked to the door. But the expression on her face when she’d spoken about Reverend Henderson remained in his mind. If she was troubled by the reverend’s conversations with his father, he was, too.
The situation made it even more important that he move forward with his investment plan as quickly as possible. But first, he wanted to purchase the lace trim for her that she’d so admired.
~*~
HARRIET PAUSED TO STUDYa silk gown in a dressmaker’s window on Bond Street. The fabric looked as if it had been woven by fairies the way it shimmered in the sunlight.
“Isn't that pretty?” Her mother halted beside her then looked at Harriet. “Would you like to inquire inside about it?”
How she wished that was possible. But the low decolletage of the gown had Harriet pressing a hand to her chest, her gloved fingers brushing the high neck of the one she wore. Her scars would never allow her to wear a creation like that.
As if reading her mind, her mother gestured toward the gown. “We could add a lace insert, and it would still be very pretty.”
Harriet shook her head. While that was true,shewould know the reason for the extra lace. She’d learned long ago to put aside her bitterness over the scars that covered her chest, but she had yet to stop longing when she saw others wearing daring gowns.
“I have more than enough gowns,” she said with a smile.
She and her mother lived on a limited income, but as far as Harriet was concerned, they lived in comfort.
Her mother was a widow twice over. While Harriet missed her father, who had died from illness when she was ten, she didn’t miss her stepfather, who’d died in an accident nearly two years ago.
Though she worried her mother was lonely, she hoped she didn’t marry again. Not when the last one had proven so disastrous. Her stepfather had fooled them both until after the vows had been said.
By then, it had been too late.
She and her mother often enjoyed window shopping on Bond Street as it was a pleasant way to spend an idle afternoon even if neither of them needed anything.
“Are you certain you don't want something new for Frances’ house party?” her mother asked, gesturing toward the shop next door that sold buttons, lace, and ribbon. “It will be here before you know it.”
“I don't think so.” Harriet enjoyed nice things, much like other young ladies her age, but didn't care to draw too much attention to herself by wearing the latest fashion or bright embellishments.
“I shall miss you while you're gone,” her mother said with a smile. “Ten days is a long time to be away.”
“I will miss you as well. Are you certain you don't want to come with us? I’m sure Frances would be happy to have you. We could share a room and the cooler air of the country would do us both good.”