Outside, the bustle of London. Hackneys carrying fares vying with private phaetons and carriages for room on the street, people streaming endlessly past the brightly lettered shop windows. The clop of horses’ hooves, the call of vendors, the whole of the city thrumming with life. Ana shivered in her thin shift. It felt odd and exciting to be so exposed, just a wall separating her from the hub of all activity.
The bell above the shop door tinkled. The shop assistant answered the door and Ana heard deep tones. Another customer inthe shop, a male one! Ana looked around wildly for something to take cover in, her imagination painting a shocking scene—the visitor, throwing open the door. Ana, in next to nothing at all, caught like a frightened doe in the hunter’s sight.
Where was her pelisse? She’d removed it in the antechamber at the request of Madame Fontaine, who had wanted to see her complexion before choosing more fabrics, draping it over the back of the chair. With, it occurred to Ana suddenly, her most precious possession still in the pocket! Her mother’s emerald necklace, one of the last links she had to her past. The clasp had come undone during the carriage ride to the club, and she’d slipped it into her pocket, fearing it was broken.
“Madame Fontaine,” she whispered loudly. There was no answer. The pelisse was blue velvet, lined with real fur, an expensive garment that any common thief would be happy to run off with. She couldn’t chance having it stolen and losing her mother’s necklace again. How could she have been so careless?
She could still hear voices from the front room, the deep male tones briefly following the higher-pitched chatter of the shopkeeper. The door between the antechamber and the front room was slightly ajar, giving whoever was out there a clear view of the sumptuous pelisse if they were to glance in that direction.
What if he was criminally inclined? She could see it so clearly: this shady new arrival directing Madam Fontaine’s attention toward a bolt of velvet high on the shelf, the shopkeeper climbing the ladder to retrieve it, the thief running through the door, gathering up the pelisse with one quick hand, then dashing out to the street. She must retrieve it from the chair and close the door, else it and the necklace would be gone for good.
Ana cautiously ducked out from the screen. Her pelisse wasstill hanging on the back of the chair. She darted over and grabbed it but just as she was going to make her exit, the voices grew louder—the shopgirl was bringing the customer into the room. Ana fairly flew back to the screen, crouching behind it and muffling her excited breathing with her fist.
“I’ll leave you here, Your Grace. I’m sure your ward will be finished with her fitting momentarily and will join you here.”
“Thank you.”
Gruff, growling tones. Warburton! Why was he here? He mustn’t find her here in this state! She could sense him standing across the room, hear him drumming his fingers impatiently on a nearby tabletop. Then stop. Silence. Then footsteps coming closer to the screen. He’dsensedher, damn his preternaturally observant self!
“Hello? Who’s there?”
She squeezed her eyes closed and accepted her fate. “It’s Ana, Your Grace.”
“Miss Crewe? Why are you hiding behind this screen?” He sounded equal parts exasperated and amused.
Slowly, heat burning her cheeks, she summoned all the dignity she could muster and poked her head around the side of the screen. “I heard a customer come into the shop. My mother’s necklace was in the pocket of my pelisse, hanging on that chair. I thought you were a thief! I was going to retrieve my pelisse and save the jewelry.”
“In nothing but a shift?”
“The dressmaker hadn’t returned with my dress yet. What was I to do?”
“Call for the shopgirl and ask her to retrieve your pelisse?” the duke asked, eyebrows raised.
“I guess I . . . didn’t think of that.”
“Where is Aunt Glynis and your maid?”
“They had errands to run and friends to greet. They’ll be back any moment.”
“Then you’d better stay behind the screen before someone catches us like this.”
“Why areyouhere?”
“To return this, which was conveniently forgotten at the club.” He crossed the room, holding her fan in his outstretched arm. She was suddenly aware of the scant material of her shift, the way the air in the room was making her flesh prickle and her hairs stand on end. The air... or his presence.
“Thank you. I can’t think how it slipped from my grasp.”
“You wanted a pretext to visit again. I know what you’re doing, Miss Crewe. I’m on to you. You require a chaperone at all times,” he said gruffly. “There’s no question.”
The bell tinkled again. “Oh, I’d better go back behind the screen.”
Two ladies had entered the shop. They hadn’t seen them yet.
“We can’t be seen together with you in this state. Hide!” He grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her behind the dressing screen. He barely fit in the small space. He flattened against the wall and pulled her toward him, her backside against his front. He snaked an arm around her waist to hold her in place. There wasn’t even enough space for Ana to drape the pelisse around her shoulders to cover herself.
“Your Grace—”
“Shhh.” His large hand closed over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound.”