Read sample The Debutante

Chapter One

When the Season ends in London, fashionable society seeks amusement elsewhere, and that place is Bath. While some with ill-health— imagined or otherwise— took to the waters, others enjoyed the best society had to offer in the way of theater, dancing, and such diversions. There are even those who spend their whole lives in Bath.

Propping my father’s watch on my dressing table, I leaned down to check my appearance in the small mirror. My walking dress was of a jaconet muslin and perhaps was too delicate for a lady’s maid to be seen in. However, as it was my half-day, I had dressed to please myself.

“But what if Miss Dunbar requires something, Miss Nelson?”

Restraining myself from a sigh, I sent a glance over my shoulder. The housemaid, Eliza, stood by the door, wringing her hands together. She was no older than fifteen and was, in general, a nervous creature. “You will provide whatever it is that Miss Dunbar wishes,” I said, struggling to keep my tone reassuring. “You must have done so before my arrival.”

“Yes, but Miss Dunbar hates me. She threw a jar of cream at me one day when I took too long to reach her room.” Poor Eliza’s eyes were wide, and I wondered how she had lasted as long as she had in the house. Seven months must have been some record for this household.

“Then, you must be sure to keep from being late, Eliza. I have no intention of foregoing my few hours away from my duties,” I stated firmly, as I straightened. I picked up my bonnet. “As Miss Dunbar has no engagements, I suspect she will spend her afternoon practicing the pianoforte, and she will not be in need of any assistance.”

My words did nothing to alleviate the fear on Eliza’s face. However, there was nothing more I could say on the matter. Hardening my heart, I tied on my bonnet and picked up my reticule. “I shall return in time to assist Miss Dunbar in dressing for the evening,” I said.

Her cheeks flushing, Eliza scurried out of my room. I plucked my father’s watch from the dressing table and placed it safely in my reticule to carry with me. It was one of the few items I made sure to keep close by for fear of someone happening to it.

I left my room, taking care to close the door firmly behind me. Keeping my belongings secure had become highly critical in the past few months.

“Why, Miss Nelson.”

The male voice made my skin crawl. “Mr. Dunbar,” I responded, lifting my gaze to the face of the oldest Dunbar son.

Daniel Dunbar was a handsome man, and he knew it. He was tall and had the build of a man who frequented Gentleman Jackson’s academy. From the moment he first saw me in his father’s house, he had been persistent in his attempts to garner my affection.

From what the housekeeper, Mrs. Dobbs, had said to me, the last lady’s maid had been dismissed in disgrace from the consequences of falling for the charming man.

Such a fate would not befall me.

“It’s your half-day, isn’t it?” Mr. Dunbar asked, his blue eyes flicking over my appearance in a way that made me shudder. His smile widened as though he liked what he saw. “Permit me to walk with you.” As he spoke, he extended his arm for me to take.

“No, thank you. I am in no mood for company.”

His eyes focused on my face, darkening with annoyance. “Miss Nelson, everyone desires company.”

“Not everyone,” I said, striding forward boldly. He stepped in front of me to block my way down the back staircase. “Sir, kindly permit me to pass by. I have declined your company and can think of no reason for you to be on this level of the house. Good day.”

Moving aside, Mr. Dunbar offered a mocking bow as I swept past him. While I hoped that my continued refusal of his attention would bore him, I feared he was fascinated with the idea I might be uninterested and thus worth pursuing. Somehow, I would have to find a way to hurry my investigation so that I could leave as soon as possible.

I had been in Bath two weeks and had learned nothing new of my brother Jonathan’s untimely death. In fact, I had not come across anyone who had ever known him. Such was the obstacle of being in a place where people came and went so easily, something that had not occurred to me before my arrival.

However, I could not rest until I had tried every avenue open to me.

As I walked along the pavement, I passed many people who were taking advantage of the beautiful weather. Young ladies were giggling and gossiping together as they walked. Gentlemen strode along with confidence.

I was careful to keep my head down and avoided all eye contact. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to recognize me as Miss Juliet Sinclair, and with so many people in Bath, the risk was higher than it had ever been in London.

Fortunately for me, my destination was not a well-traveled place. Once I left the confines of the streets of Bath, I was reminded of the walks I used to take when I was at home in the country with my parents. Birds sang in the trees around me, and the sun shone down, warming my face.

It had taken me the entirety of my last half-day to locate the right parish register that contained where my brother Jonathan was buried. By that point, it had been too late on my previous half-day for me to visit his grave. Now, at long last, I could.

There was no one in sight as I wove my way among the gravestones. The peace of the graveyard was welcome after the exhausting week I had just endured. Finally, in a corner, I found the stone I was searching for:

Jonathan Sinclair

Kneeling down and pulling my glove off, I ran my hand over the cold stone. “Oh, Jonathan.” Deep in my heart, I knew that a woman would never have been entrusted the kind of secrets he’d carried with him. Still, I wished there had been some way he could have told me what he was doing for our country.

Our parents, or at least our father, had known the task Jonathan had taken on. I had been left to believe my brother merely traveled for pleasure. I couldn’t help but feel I hadn’t known my brother at the end of his life. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I took a deep breath, trying to push away the grief.

My gaze shifted to the small bouquet of violets, limp and half dead already, that rested against the base of the gravestone. Startled, I realized then that my brother’s grave appeared to have been looked after diligently in the last five years.

Who would have done such a kind thing? A friend of Jonathan's?

Shaking my head, I found a small grave with grass grown up around it and sat on the gravestone. There was yet another purpose for my long walk. Sure of being unseen by anyone who might carry tales, I pulled a letter from my reticule. It was thicker than usual, which meant my great-aunt had forwarded my correspondence. Since it was not usual for me to receive many letters, this was a surprise.

 My Aunt Beth’s letter was the first one I read, and amid her Shakespearean insults that I had little patience to decipher, it detailed her disappointment in me. She wondered how I could persist in the pretense of being a lady’s maid, asked when I would be returning, and informed me I had missed Mr. Henry Bladen’s visit. He had, fortunately, accepted her excuse of my being indisposed and had not returned.

The only word that came to mind when I read those words was, good. What kind of fickle woman did he imagine me to be? He was the one who had abandoned me when I had needed him and then had remained absent for five years. If he believed he could reappear and my affections would be unchanged, he was mistaken.

As they invariably did, as of late, when it came to affection, my thoughts turned to Mr. Oswyn Harper. Had he tried to discover my whereabouts? Not that he had any reason to do so, as I had stumbled upon his traitor for him. Why would he think of me again?

With a shake of my head and mentally scolding myself for being a fool, I folded Aunt Beth’s letter and turned my attention to the letter she had enclosed. I didn’t immediately recognize the handwriting, but when I opened it and read the salutation I knew. There was only one person who ever referred to me as ‘Jules,’ and that was my longtime friend, Mary Thornton, nee Heath.

With a sigh, I scanned through most of her barely legible writing. Her correspondence was exactly like her personality: erratic and bubbly. She had been married for four years, and her habit of letter writing had tapered off to an occasional, random missive.

Sighing, I broke off my perusal of Mary’s letter. She’d written similar sentiments many times over the years, and I had never taken her up on her offer. At first, Henry Bladen had been a shadow on my heart, but now? Now I didn’t feel like I knew myself at all, and if I didn’t know myself, how could I expect someone else to come to know me?

I glanced one last time at my brother’s grave. “I will find out what happened to you, Jonathan,” I promised. “And, if I possibly can, I’ll make sure justice is done and the traitor is found.”

The last would be an almost impossible task, and I knew it. Still, it seemed like something I needed to say, a promise I had to make. It would give me the patience to get me through the long days.

Feeling more at peace with myself and my goals, I re-entered Bath. I was halfway to the Dunbar home when someone crashed into my back. As I stumbled, my grip tightened on my reticule, as I knew well the tricks of a boy on the street. It was fortunate that I did so for I felt a firm tug on my purse, but I managed to keep it in my hand. When I had regained my balance, I spotted a child dressed in tatters racing away.

“Pardon me, miss,” a male voice called, behind me. “Are you uninjured?”

Turning, I took in the young man. He didn’t appear to be very much older than me. “No harm was done,” I said, patting my reticule. “Thank you for your concern.”

He gave a small chuckle. “I am glad to hear it. It seems to be only I who have suffered a loss to the scamp.”

“Perhaps he believed he had more need of it than you,” I said, unable to keep a smile from my lips. The child vanished from sight, and the man did not give chase or call out as I had expected him to.

Pale gray eyes flicked over me, and interest sparked on the man’s face. “I don’t believe we have been introduced.”

His tone was curious; otherwise, his words could have been understood a direct cut. Oddly enough, this triggered my amusement, and I bite off a laugh. “Indeed, I would be astonished if we had, sir.”

“And why would you say that?”

My amusement faded as I steeled myself to be honest. On the surface, this light-hearted young man seemed to be one I would have readily enjoyed passing my time with if I had been a young lady visiting Bath like any other. However, lamenting what could not be was hardly a productive use of my faculties. “Because I am Miss Dunbar’s maid.”

His eyebrows went up in surprise, but he didn’t walk away. “I am Adam Melbourne,” he said to my surprise. “I am an acquaintance of Miss Dunbar and her family. I ought to have guessed a new maid had been employed as Miss Dunbar has been in fine looks as of late. May I know the name of her miracle worker?”

“Miss Julie Nelson.” The name rolled off my tongue so easily. It almost felt more comfortable than ‘Juliet Sinclair.’ “It was a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“May I have the honor of escorting you? After all, a young ruffian may decide your reticule worth his time.”

Surprised by the offer, I studied him for a moment. Mr. Melbourne was dressed in the impeccable garb of a young gentleman —tan breeches, a dark blue coat, and black topper. He was slightly taller than me, his build solid. Appearances could be deceiving, though, for all he looked to be respectable and relatively harmless.

“I promise I won’t bite.” He said this with a smile as if to put me at ease.

Deciding to take the chance, I inclined my head in acceptance and began walking. He fell in step beside me, and we went several minutes without saying anything. “Perhaps you could help me with a bit of a puzzle,” he finally said. “I must confess I have an interest in your mistress, Miss Dunbar.”

Of course he did. Why else would he still be walking and talking with a maid? “You do get to the point quickly,” was all I said.

“She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he continued, his tone fervid and admiring. I barely kept from rolling my eyes. “An incomparable if ever a person deserved to be called such.”

Rose Dunbar was, without a doubt, a beautiful young lady. Golden hair and bright blue eyes gave her an angelic appearance. She was petite and knew how to speak with softness. If an elderly lady were present at a gathering, Miss Dunbar would offer her arm or beg to be of some assistance. I had heard many sing her praises during my time in Bath.

However, that was the face she presented to the members of society. In private, she was the most self-centered, spoiled girl I had ever had the misfortune to come across.

“You wish to be in her good graces, then, Mr. Melbourne?” I had wondered how long it would take before a gentleman thought to use me as a way to get inside information concerning Miss Dunbar. A mere two weeks, apparently.

“I will not ask you to do anything unethical. I simply wish to know her likes and dislikes. Anything that will give me an advantage among her admirers.”

Feeling a wave of sadness, I shook my head. Mr. Melbourne seemed to be sincere and, at least on the surface, a good man. Rose Dunbar would use him, flirt with him, and then leave him for the first rogue that caught her eye.

“She has a fondness for roses,” I said with a sigh. Even if I told him all I knew about my employer, he wouldn’t believe me. He would have to discover the truth of Miss Dunbar's character for himself.

“I could have guessed that.”

Anxious to end the conversation, I quickened my steps. “She is also fond of novels. She is as accomplished as any other young lady. That is all I can tell you, Mr. Melbourne. I have not been with Miss Dunbar long enough to have a better grasp on what she does or does not enjoy.”

Quickly, Mr. Melbourne matched my gait. “Never say Miss Dunbar is a novel reader!”

“I believe I just did,” I said irritably. Miss Dunbar had often in the past two weeks sent me to the bookshop to search out a gothic novel, or some poetry, and she kept Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels next to her bed.

“Have I offended you in some way?”

Forcing my annoyance away, I shook my head. “Indeed not, sir.”

“I find I don’t quite believe you.”

“What you choose to believe, sir, is entirely up to you.” Primness had crept into my voice, and I cringed at how like a strict governess I sounded. “I am not certain knowing these details will give you an advantage with Miss Dunbar.”

Mr. Melbourne heaved a sigh. “No doubt you are right. She is unconcerned with such material things.”

Remembering Miss Dunbar’s disdain at buying anything when the shopkeeper had a sale, I bit my lip and stared straight ahead. The idea of moderation in spending was foreign to her. She would rather be able to brag about how much she spent on a bit of lace with the notion that the more expensive, the better.

“Unless you want to give her the idea that you desire a relationship with her maid, I suggest you leave me here,” I told him, as we drew closer to the Dunbar home on Milsom St. “It would hardly be encouragement for her to show interest in your suit if she were to see me walking with you.”

Though, I had the suspicion that it would inspire jealousy from Miss Dunbar and to be caught in such a situation would have been highly uncomfortable. As it was, I had no inclination to encourage a match between my mistress and Mr. Melbourne. He did not deserve a wife such as Miss Dunbar would make.

With a dramatic sigh, Mr. Melbourne took my hand and bowed over it before I could object. “I am not deterred,” he said, straightening with a smile. “Good day, Miss Nelson.”

With quick strides, he continued on his way and strode past the Dunbar residence as though he had no notion the object of his adoration resided within. With a shake of my head, I made my way to the servants’ entrance.

I could only hope the man had his eyes open before he made a grave mistake.

Chapter Two

I was only in my room for five minutes and had just put away my pelisse when there was a frantic pounding on my door. Heaving a sigh, I closed my eyes for a moment, knowing who it was and why they had come. “Come in,” I answered, turning to face the door.

The door swung open, and an alarmed Eliza entered. “Oh, Miss Nelson,” she said, relief filling her voice. “It’s Miss Dunbar. She is demanding you come to her right away.”

Keeping my movements slow, I checked the time on my father’s watch. “I still have fifteen minutes left,” I replied, setting the watch on the dressing table. “I will go to her when my half-day is over, and not a minute before. Thank you, Eliza, you may return to your duties.”

“But what do I tell Miss Dunbar?”

“I don't see why you must tell her anything. Thank you, Eliza, that is all.”

My tone was harsher than it should have been. Flushing, Eliza gave a nod and withdrew. How dearly I missed working with a maid who had some spirit. In the Burnham’s household, Mary had, after some time, been a great help and in a position to be trained in the subtler arts of being a lady’s maid.

What I wouldn’t give to have someone on my side in the Dunbar house.

Without rushing, I changed from my walking dress to a more modest one of pale pink muslin. I took care to hide my letters and reticule under my bed where it would be difficult to find. Precisely on the hour, I walked out of my room and made my way down to Miss Dunbar’s room.

“Where have you been?” the young lady asked as I entered. Her tone was accusing. “I have been waiting an age for you.”

“Today was my half-day, Miss Dunbar,” I said with as much respect and patience as I could muster. “I am here now, though. Do you know what you wish to wear to the Assembly tonight?”

Tapping her foot, Miss Dunbar scowled. “Of course, I do. I have, after all, had forever to make my selection without you. The blue striped muslin.”

There was no denying Miss Dunbar had excellent taste. The pale blue of the stripes made her eyes brighter. I drew the gown out and carried it to her. “This one, Miss Dunbar?”

“You know it is,” the young lady said sharply. “My goodness, are you completely useless, Nelson? Do I have to describe everything in exact detail for you to know what I wish to wear? If I didn’t need you, I would dismiss you this minute.”

And if I had a place, anyplace at all, to go to, I would have walked out. I, of course, kept this observation to myself as I laid the dress out with care. Miss Dunbar sat in front of her dressing table and began tapping her foot. “I’m waiting, Nelson.”

I tried to focus on the positives about tending to Miss Dunbar. Her hair was long and silky, the complete opposite of the curly locks I had struggled with in my last position. Miss Dunbar's curls were easy to arrange into the popular Grecian inspired styles and added to her beautiful expression.

Once she was dressed, Miss Dunbar twisted each way to admire her appearance in the mirror. “I believe I will have every man’s attention tonight,” she said, trying to tug the dress lower to reveal more of her bosom. Her tone was smug and satisfied.

Unimpressed with her tactics for seeking attention, I turned away to begin my task of tidying the room. Something struck my back, and I stumbled a step. There was a clatter as the object fell to the ground as I whirled around. “I didn’t give you permission to turn your back on me,” Miss Dunbar almost barked, picking up her gloves as calmly as though she hadn’t just thrown a jar at me. “Never do so again.”

Anger made me clench my jaw for a moment. What gave her the right to throw things at me and behave as though it were nothing at all? “Your father will be waiting for you,” was all I could muster.

“Oh, let him wait. He won’t leave without me.”

Perhaps if Mr. Dunbar did leave without her, just once, it would have taught her how to respect other people. As it was, I held my silence as I watched her. After a full minute of further preening, she finally decided she was ready to leave the room. She walked out with a spring in her step.

As soon as the door closed, I scowled at it. “Spoiled chit,” I muttered under my breath. It was language my mother would have been appalled to hear me use, but I felt it suited the situation correctly.

Stooping down, I picked up the poor porcelain jar that had never been intended to be used as a projectile. There was a slight chip on the lid and a fine crack along the side. Thankfully, that seemed to be the only damage done, and it was minor enough that Miss Dunbar wouldn’t notice it unless she was of a mind to scrutinize it.

Restoring the dressing room to its original condition came without any concentration from me now. My mind didn’t even have to focus on each, particular task that had to be performed. Before I left, though, I made sure to cast my gaze over every inch of the room. If even one thing was out of place, Miss Dunbar would undoubtedly do more than throw a jar at my back.

Having no appetite, I went up to my room where I stretched out on the bed. After my first two weeks, I had discreetly begun searching for a new position. My determination to endure whatever Miss Dunbar literally threw at me fled more and more with each new day. Every time, I managed to talk myself into staying, just until I discovered what I needed to know. Then, inevitably, she did something cruel or thoughtless.

There was a light rap of knuckles on my door. “Yes?” I said, pushing myself up. “Who is it?”

“I have a tray for you, Miss Nelson,” Eliza's voice came through the door. “You never asked for it, but I brought it for you anyway.”

Poor Eliza. Though frightened of her own shadow, she was still kind when she could be. I hoped she would find a new house where she won’t have to worry about a particular and spoiled mistress.

“Come in,” I said, swinging my legs off my bed. The door opened, and the maid carried the tray in. “Thank you, Eliza.”

Once she placed the tray on my table, Eliza faced me and hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked. “I heard Miss Dunbar snapping at you like an angry dog my uncle used to keep, and I thought she threw something at you. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Eliza. I believe there is a bruise, nothing more.”

She seemed to hesitate. “Why do you stay? A talented lady like you ought to be able to find a place somewhere you can be respected.”

If only it were as easy as that. “I have made inquiries. You should do so as well. You’re a good worker and ought to be appreciated for what you do.”

Eliza tilted her head, a surprised expression appearing on her face. “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say so if I didn’t.”

A smile curved her lips, and she ducked her head. “Thank you, Miss Nelson. I’ll be back for your tray.”

She hurried out, but not before I saw the blush that colored her cheeks. How sad that a few kind words would be so embarrassing to her. Shaking my head, I focused on the food that I had little appetite for.

There were benefits and disadvantages to going into a second position as a lady’s maid. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t help comparing the two households. My time in the Burnham house had been a trial and had resulted in me nearly being killed, more through my own fault than anything done by my employers. Still, it seemed a pleasant memory compared to how life was in the Dunbar household.

I was more experienced and knew the ins and outs of a woman in my position. With only one young lady to care for, I had expected it to be simple and more straightforward. Without any vanity, I knew I had developed some skill for the position.

Pride, as they say, came before a crash.

These thoughts went round and round my mind as I cleaned the dressing room. My back was sore from Miss Dunbar’s attack the day before. I couldn’t twist myself around enough to see, but I was sure there was an impressive bruise. The first physical wound to go with the verbal ones the young lady delighted in throwing at me.

“Nelson, I need new ribbons!”

In the middle of putting away the clean laundry, I paused and took a deep breath. My hold on my patience strengthened. I faced her. “Of course, Miss Dunbar. I will get your pelisse—”

“Oh, I am not going out for them. You shall do so for me.”

Why was I not surprised? If she were to go out in search of ribbons, she might miss a visit from one of her admirers. “Is there a specific color of ribbon you desire?” Experience had taught me to be exact when asking what Miss Dunbar wanted me to purchase for her.

“Oh, a variety,” she said, walking to the window. She ran her finger along the curtain. “I imagine I will find a use for anything you bring back.”

I had the feeling she was watching me from the corner of her eye. And why would she send me out for fripperies she didn’t need? Either she intended on doing something here and didn’t want to risk my interference, or she had an ulterior reason for my errand.

“While you are out, you will take a note to Mr. Ingram’s dwelling for me.”

And there it was: the real reason she was sending me out. Mr. Conrad Ingram was not one of her admirers, but Miss Dunbar dearly wanted him to be. He, as far as I was aware, had not even shown a passing interest in her, which must have been a thorn in her side.

For a moment, I struggled to think of what to say in answer. “A note, Miss Dunbar?”

It was a common tactic to bribe a maid to carry messages from a young lady to a gentleman, or vice versa. Henry Bladen had done so on multiple occasions in the past two months. That I hadn’t responded in kind should have discouraged him. But I couldn’t let my experiences from the past distract me from my current occupation.

“Yes, a note,” she said with impatience. She held up her hand as if to show me the message. “I would think you would be happy. You seem to enjoy walking.”

How did she know that? Had she been watching me?

“A young lady such as yourself would find her reputation ruined if it was discovered you were sending notes to a gentleman.” Mentally, I added ‘especially if the man were Mr. Ingram.’

“Who would tell anyone? You?” she asked with a laugh. Then, her eyes narrowed. “Is that what this is? You want an incentive to hold your silence?”

My conscience wanted to refuse, but a lady’s maid wouldn’t do that. I settled for silence, which only seemed to infuriate her. “Fine,” she said, turning to her dressing table. A moment later, she swung back to me. In her hand was a delicate, gold bracelet. “Will this be enough?”

She threw it at me, and I caught it reflexively. When I glanced down, I recognized it as one she often wore. Why would she give me this? What trick was she trying to play? “You are generous, Miss,” I said, unable to rein in all of my sarcasm.

“Now hurry up and deliver the note,” Miss Dunbar said, thrusting the message into my other hand. She flounced to the door. “And don’t forget the ribbons. I want to have some variety for when the other young ladies come to make alterations to our bonnets.”

In a moment, she was gone. Sighing, I shook my head at the predicament I found myself in. Encouraging her to pursue a man such as Conrad Ingram shamelessly was a repulsive idea. I could burn the letter and pretend I had delivered it. Despite the pretense I was involved in, such blatant deception made my stomach churn with unease. What if Mr. Ingram was expecting the note in my hand? How would Miss Dunbar react if she were to discover I hadn’t delivered it.

Resigned, I walked to the door. I made my way up to my room and prepared to go out. I hide the bracelet in my dressing table. Her excuse to send me out was laughable. Who would believe that she intended to organize an activity for other ladies and needed supplies for such an occasion? She received visitors, of course, but none of them I would term as her close friends.

With my bonnet on my head and my gloves on my hands, I made my way down the servants' staircase. I passed by Eliza, who was hard at work scrubbing the floor of the kitchen. She caught my eye and frowned. “Are you going out, Miss Nelson?” she asked, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead.

“Miss Dunbar has requested I purchase a variety of ribbons for her,” I said with a shrug. “You will listen for if she needs something?”

Eliza grimaced and nodded reluctantly. “Of course, Miss Nelson. Just…don't be gone long?”

With an answering nod, I continued on my way. Poor Eliza was a good, hard worker, and I hoped she would find someplace better than the Dunbar house. I stepped outside the house and took a deep breath of fresh air. At least the weather was beautiful for a walk.

It wasn’t far to Mr. Ingram’s dwelling. I was only five houses away when the man himself walked onto the pavement. He was of average height, with black hair and he had the bearing of an aristocrat. The appeal he had for the majority of the young ladies of Bath was obvious, though I didn’t share it. He was an incredibly handsome man.

He didn’t glance to either side as he made straight for the curricle in the street. My steps slowed as I watched him drive away. At least, I would not face the embarrassment of having him in the house as I left Miss Dunbar’s note. An indifferent footman accepted the missive, and I was on my way to buy ribbons within half a minute.

That part of my errand, at least, I could enjoy. Instead of making my way to the shop that Miss Dunbar preferred to frequent, I walked to a tiny shop where the quality and prices were much more to my taste. The owner was a pleasant man who eagerly laid out his wares for my perusal and selection.

As the man wrapped my purchase, I ran my gloved hand over a bolt of pale blue silk that lay on the end of the counter. It was my favorite shade of the color, and if I’d had the money for such a decision, I would have bought it straight away.

“That color would suit you.”

The voice that came from behind me made my shoulders tense. Would I always be meeting men in a shop? I took a deep breath and spun around to make a small curtsy. “Mr. Harper.”