*
Hart had spentthe night with her, but left early to visit his bank. Maddie rose late, and after breakfast, sat at the dainty desk in her sitting room. She wrote a letter to Aunt Libby on the crested writing paper she found in a drawer. She invited them to call on her at Montford Court tomorrow afternoon after two o’clock if they were not otherwise engaged. Her marriage would shock them, but they would be happy for her, she was sure. But explaining how it came to be to her aunt would not be easy. Maddie expected the news of her and Hart being seen together would have reached her aunt from Bath, which would not be favorable. A whirlwind love affair, she would say. Aunt Libby was a lover of romance and visited the Bath lending library often for novels. Gazing out onto the plane trees in Berkeley Square, Maddie wished that were true. That Hart had fallen in love with her instantly. Still, no words of love passed his lips, even in the throes of passion. But what they felt for each other was explosive. She grew warm thinking of it and urged herself to be content and not wish for more.
Maddie rang for a footman to deliver her letter to the address where her aunt and cousin stayed, then she consulted the housekeeper about the week’s menus. Mrs. Hatton was obliging, and Maddie suspected glad to have a mistress at last. But Maddie knew Hart’s preferences, and because he wasn’t often here, Cook might not. After the housekeeper left, Maddie considered how to fill the hour and a half before her appointment with the modiste.
The door opened and Hart walked in. “I have something to show you.” He removed a jeweler’s box from his pocket. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” She rose from the chair, curious and excited. “You’ve fetched the rings from the bank?”
“I have.” He flipped the lid open, revealing two rings nestling in a bed of satin. A plain gold wedding band and an engagement ring with a large diamond surrounded by smaller stones in an intricate gold setting, which was heavy and ornate, but quite glorious.
“It’s old fashioned,” he said, removing the rings. “We can have it reset in a modern design when you have time to visit the jeweler.” He snapped the lid shut and put it down on her desk. “They may need some adjustment.”
Her heart beating fast, Maddie gave him her hand, and he slipped the rings on her finger. For a long moment, their eyes met. Something special passed between them. Dare she hope he was falling in love with her?
The rings fit perfectly. With a murmur of delight, she held up her hand. The big center diamond flashed a myriad of colors. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “No, I shan’t change it.”
“You like them then?” Hart pulled her close and nuzzled her neck, and she slipped her arms around his slim waist.
“I do, very much.”
“When is your appointment with the dressmaker?” he murmured in her ear, his voice husky.
“One o’clock.”
“Then we have time?”
She reached up to touch his face, wanting him. “You’ll make me late.”
Hart’s smile held intent. His hands at her waist, he walked backwards, taking her with him. He hefted her up in his arms, then slowly laid her down while Maddie helplessly gazed at his adored face, thrilling to see the flare of passion in his eyes. Just his touch made her stomach throb with need. While she wished not to be late for her first visit to the new modiste, when he kissed her, it ceased to matter. With a moan, she gave in to his demanding kisses. She could never say no to him.
When Hart left her bedchamber, Maddie gathered up the handful of pins scattered over the coverlet and languidly rose. With a smile, she touched her lips, slightly swollen with his kisses, then donned her dressing gown. She would have to send for Jane to do her hair again, but she didn’t care. She felt carefree, her limbs loose. Seated before the dressing table, she admired her rings. How calm she’d become, as if all her worries were vanquished. But they would emerge to plague her soon enough. She smiled into the mirror, her eyes bright and her skin glowing. This was what it meant to be blissfully in love. A word of caution nagged at her. Her stern commonsense warned her of the trials ahead. But so free and joyful, she laughed and pushed the thought away as she brushed her hair.
Jane came in. She looked unsettled and distracted. “His lordship said you wanted me, milady?”
“Yes. I must dress quickly, Jane. I have an appointment with the dressmaker in half an hour.” Maddie rose. “I shall have to wear the carriage gown.”
When Jane brought it from the wardrobe, Maddie groaned as she gazed at the sad state of it. Jane tried valiantly to care for her clothes, but the gown had seen too much wear. What would the dressmaker think of her?
“Shall I run the hot iron over it, milady? To remove the wrinkles. It will only take a moment.”
“Oh, yes, Jane, do.” She would hate to confront the woman, looking like she’d been dragged through a bush.
Jane picked it up and went to the dressing room, where a fire had been lit earlier. Maddie sank back on the stool and took up the brush. After a moment, something about Jane’s demeanor broke into her thoughts. She called to her maid, who was removing Maddie’s shoes, hat, and gloves from the wardrobe while waiting for the iron to heat. “You appear to be wrestling with a problem, Jane. Would you care to tell me about it? Perhaps I can help.”
Jane reappeared, looking uncomfortable. “Oh no, milady. It’s nothing, really.”
“If you’re sure.” Unconvinced, Maddie let it go. When Jane brought in the gown, which the ironing had improved, she didn’t persist. Aware of the time, she quickly dressed. As Jane’s deft fingers arranged her hair, Maddie tried not to smile. Hart would insist on removing all the pins with no care to the work required to restore it.
Jane flittered about the room with a light step as she tidied things away. Intrigued, Maddie, while closing the clasp on her locket, watched her maid in the mirror. In time, she would learn the truth. Henry would be the cause, she knew. Was Jane in love? And might they have quarreled? That didn’t seem likely with what she’d seen of the two of them together. Dressed, Maddie rose and turned her mind to what she would ask for from Madam Benoit.
Full length gilt-edged mirrors and crimson velvet drapes decorated Madam Benoit’s elegant establishment. The French woman had a reasonable command of English, although she lapsed into French when overly exuberant. She draped fabrics over Maddie’s body and stood back to study her, a finger tapping her chin. Maddie agreed with her choice for the evening gown. In the mirror, the glowing, greenish-bronze-colored satin for the underdress suited her coloring.
Maddie drank coffee while she studied the latest fashion plates and material samples laid out on the table before her. Two hours passed before she and Madam came to an agreement. And Maddie left with the dressmaker’s promise of delivering a morning gown, a promenade dress, a carriage gown, and a filmy nightgown, as well as the evening gown, the following week. The ballgown would require another fitting. “To ensure it is perfection,” Madam said. White gauze over white satin was decided as white was still all the rage. Maddie agreed, although the dress would not make the statement she wished for.
Maddie and Jane spent another hour roaming the fascinating shops Diane had mentioned in her letter. The footman followed, his arms full of packages. When he could carry no more, Maddie reluctantly thought it best to return home. He deposited the parcels in the carriage and stood at the open door for them to enter. Before Maddie put a foot on the step, a man loomed up beside her. She turned.
Her uncle stood before her, his legs planted as he looked her up and down, an array of expressions from shock to anger and disgust crossing his face. “It appears you have found a gentleman to keep you. What quick work, Madeline.”