Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
‘And I have not officially launched her into society.’
‘Will you ever?’
‘That is my prerogative.’
‘Indeed, it is,’ I say, going to the door, looking back. ‘Your Grace, if it pleases you to hear me say it, be assured, I have no interest in your sister. Now, I have my day to be getting on with.’ I exit the study, leaving the Duke behind.
‘Very well,’ he calls after me.
‘Send word to the stables please, Dalton, to have my horse ready in an hour.’ Let us get back to business. Will today be the day the highwaymen show their faces again? Will I have it confirmed beyond all doubt that my suspicions are correct?
That thrill. The addictive one, it glides down my spine at the very thought. Because it could be quite the disaster if I publish the first part of this story and I am wrong. What an anti-climax that would be!
Up and down I have trotted, for at least an hour now, and there has been no sight nor sound. In what world does a man pray to be ambushed by thieves? By two o’clock, I have had enough and resign myself to purchasing that new jacket in pale blue to match my eyes.
As I am tying Figaro up outside Mr Jenkins’ shop on Jermyn Street, I see a familiar curricle rumbling along the cobbles. I follow its path, seeing old Viscount Millingdale at the reins, his new, young wife, Lizzy Fallow, seated beside him, on their way to his bank, I expect.
Lizzy spots me, and her back visibly straightens as they pass at quite some speed. I would feel sorry for her … if she wasn’t a status-hungry, shallow flirt. Thank the heavens I dodged that bullet. In true gentlemanly style, I smile and tip my hat.
Then I step inside Mr Jenkins’. I am surprised to find Sampson Winters here, standing at the back of the shop while Jenkins measures his inside seam. ‘I apologise for appearing so blunt,’ Mr Jenkins says as he peeks at his tape measure, ‘but I must insist on payment up front,’
‘Up front?’ Sampson asks. ‘We are respectable noblemen, Jenkins. Good for the money.’
‘Mr Brummel, as I thought, was respectable too. He’s had dozens of jackets and trousers made with promises of payment for months now, and I am yet to see even a penny.’
‘Well, that really is most unfortunate,’ Sampson says, as my eyebrows arch in surprise. Brummel is quite the character, a respected one, just as Jenkins said. I was not aware he had fallen on hard times. Sampson spots me by the door. ‘Ah, Melrose,’ he sings, his cheeky smile as cheeky as ever. I must be honest, I’m wondering how he has the energy to be standing after his night-long encounter with Scarlett Dare.
‘Afternoon to you, Winters,’ I say, taking in the black velvet jacket he’s sporting. I like it. I have one. ‘Shopping for pleasure or an occasion?’
‘I only subscribe to pleasure,’ he says, grinning. Good grief, does he know his brother has entertained Lady Dare? Me? All men? He is new to the neighbourhood, or, at least, he’s new to the new Belmore Square and its new residents since Fitzgerald built the houses around the Winters residence and they were snapped up by some of England’s finest families.
‘A friendly word of advice, if I may?’ I say, as Jenkins wanders off into the back room of his shop, his tape measure around his neck.
Sampson Winters is still grinning as he looks at me, fiddling with the cravat Jenkins has left hanging around his neck. ‘You may.’
‘Lady Dare.’
‘What about her?’
Yes, what about her? And what advice do I think I can offer in that regard? He’s a grown man, and I am no longer interested in the pleasure to be had there. ‘She’s a very lovely lady.’ I smile and reach for a roll of pale blue fabric.
‘Indeed she is,’ he replies, sounding all too curious.
I think perhaps I will return another time to purchase my new coat, as I am feeling a trifle stifled. ‘Good day to you.’ I turn and take the handle of the door, but I do not get a chance to open it, for someone bursts through, knocking me back a few staggered paces.
I stare at her. I just stare, as if I have been placed under a spell. ‘My lady,’ I say, my throat thick as I vehemently try to fight off the shakes.
‘Mr Melrose.’ She nods, swallows, her gaze moving past me. I turn and see Sampson with eyebrows higher than the ceiling.
‘Excuse me,’ I say courteously, moving towards the door and taking the handle again, keen to escape the thick atmosphere.
It flies open again and Lizzy Fallow appears with her husband, the old Viscount. ‘Mr Melrose,’ she breathes.
I quickly find my poise. ‘My lady.’ I dip past them quickly and leave the shop, taking in the fresh air, regulating my breathing as best I can, really rather worried, for I cannot seem to control myself in the presence of Taya Winters and that is a serious problem.