Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Taking in the crisp air, Henry sauntered towards the Evergreen for what he assumed but hoped was not the last time. All the packing and bustling from the servants had almost driven him insane. It had only been two days since his announcement to leave, yet Lady Fitzgibbon had insisted upon sending more servants to help him pack.

It did his heart good to know that he was leaving all of that behind, yet he couldn’t help resenting that he was also leaving his beloved Evergreen.

The bell above the shop door tinkled, eliciting a strong feeling of nostalgia in his chest as he entered.

“Good day, My Lord. Was there something specific that I can find for you?” Mr Charleston provided his usually chipper greeting.

“Good morning, Mr Charleston. I think I would like just to sit in a corner and read today if you don’t mind,” he answered almost sullenly, taking in the rows of catalogues on shelves that had become part of his life.

“Of course, you are always welcome in here. Just give me a shout if you need anything at all.” Mr Charleston ambled towards the room behind the counter and disappeared from sight.

Turning to the rest of the shop, Henry placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath.

I am going to miss this.

His chest clenched with regret as he opened his eyes and took it all in.

Oh, Lord …

Panic gripped him as he jumped behind a shelf and tried to hide. He couldn’t have imagined it, but if he had been right …

Peering around the edge, he noted the young woman sitting in one of the reading nooks with her face buried in a book. Her face was sullen and downcast, yet it was unmistakably her.

Miss Sutton.

His pulse raced a little faster when he withdrew once again, utterly certain that it was her. He’d found it strange that she hadn’t yet made her next move, but he’d reasoned that she had been biding her time while she came up with the next grand plan.

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed his hair back and straightened his coat. If she was planning her next move, then he wasn’t about to let it slide. He would make his presence known to her and hopefully avoid any traps she may have set.

Stepping out from behind the shelf, he strode past her, keeping his eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

Nothing.

A frown creased his brow when he reached the other end of the shop and realized that she hadn’t so much as looked up. If she had seen him, then she hadn’t let on.

Not wanting to lose at the game he had started, he strode by again, making sure to make a little more noise with his boots on the floor.

Nothing.

Frustration took over again when she didn’t stir.

Two can play at this game.

He endeavoured to repeat his actions, striding past her until she snapped her book shut.

“You had better stop pacing. Unless you want Mr Charleston to think that you are drunk and have you thrown out?” Her chest rose and fell with a sigh as she glared at him. Something in her eyes seemed far more listless than the last time he had seen her, yet her fighting spirit was still there.

“I am not drunk, thank you very much. I was just stretching my legs before I settled down to read.” He retorted with his head held high.

“Did your walk to the shop not provide you with adequate exercise, or did you take a carriage?” She looked him up and down with the same resentment as the first night they had met. “Perhaps you were carried here by your servants?”

Feeling his hackles go up, Henry glared at her. “I can assure you, Miss Sutton, that I am not as feeble or pompous as you make me out to be.”

Flames seemed to ignite in her eyes as she jutted her chin out and glared at him. “Then I do not understand your stance, My Lord. Were you hoping for another feeble damsel in distress despite her unwillingness to be helped?”

“Madam, if I could go back in time, I would certainly leave you to run wild on the streets of London!” He glared at her, feeling a need to win the argument that he had, in essence, started.

“And I would thank you for it!” She raised her voice but bit back her words when someone appeared at his side.

Shutting his mouth, Henry stepped back and placed his hands behind his back, stunned to see someone he recognized.

“Lord Ashford, I am surprised to see you here. How are Lord and Lady Fitzgibbon these days? I am afraid I haven’t called on them as often as I should.” Lady Sinclair forced a smile, looking from him to Miss Sutton with an air of suspicion.

“They are quite well, Lady Sinclair, I will pass on your regards the next time I see them.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably and crossed his fingers behind his back.

The last thing he intended to do before leaving London was start a conversation with the very people he intended to leave behind.

Looking him up and down, Lady Sinclair smiled. “I am glad to see that you are looking so well, Lord Ashford. I have heard that you have not married again; your loyalty to your late wife is commendable.” Her words seemed pointed, yet he didn’t understand why.

Had she been conspiring with his mother-in-law? It didn’t seem likely, given her remark of not seeing them that often.

A frown crossed Miss Sutton’s brow as she looked from him to Lady Sinclair. “Do you know each other?” she asked in confusion, her hands gripping the edge of her book.

Lady Sinclair returned her frown. “I am acquainted with the family of Lord Ashton’s late wife. Lord and Lady Fitzgibbon are old friends.” She turned her gaze of suspicion back on Henry. “I was not, however, aware of the fact that the two of you knew each other beyond that night of the ball.”

“I can assure you that that night was the first time we ever crossed paths, Lady Sinclair,” he informed her, realizing that she didn’t believe him. Did the woman think that he stalked young ladies in his spare time? It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if that were what she was thinking. All the women of the ton constantly had one thing on their minds. Marriage.

Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Miss Sutton. “Is that so? The two of you seemed to be quarrelling when I came along.”

“We were discussing a book that we have both read. Is that against the law, or am I not to have any conversations anymore? Should I be writing to Lord James to ask his permission to breathe?” Miss Sutton glared at Lady Sinclair until the old woman clenched her jaw.

“And what book might that be?” Lady Sinclair placed both of her hands on the head of her cane and cocked her head to the side.

Taking a deep breath, Miss Sutton looked at the book on her lap before answering. “It’s a novel where the heroine is unwillingly thrust into a marriage of convenience. Whether she will go ahead with the marriage remains to be seen. Perhaps she will become so overburdened by her family’s demands that she decides to defy them.”

Henry felt a little lost but decided not to intervene on matters that seemed a little personal. Yet he couldn’t help wondering if she was referring to herself.

“Very well, you may continue your discussion, but I will be watching from across the room.” She looked Henry up and down before nodding a greeting and heading back towards the front of the shop.

“A relative of yours?” Henry asked her with a half-smirk.

Shaking her head, she massaged her temple with her thumb. “My aunt, you may as well have a seat now that we have come this far. It will only raise more questions if you leave now.” She gestured to the seat beside her.

Hesitating at first, he glanced back at Lady Sinclair before taking the seat.

Miss Sutton seemed quieter than the last time he had seen her. Her eyes were a little duller, and her shoulders more stooped. Making his own conclusion from the book she had described, he wondered again if she wasn’t the heroine in question.

“This book you and I are supposedly reading, does it end well, or am I to expect a letter spoiling the ending?” He tried his best to coax a smile from her and ease the tension between them.

Looking up, she met his gaze and sighed. “I am afraid that is a tragedy. The young lady has no choice but to marry the man her family is selling her to.”

“Selling her? Seems to me like a tale of slavery rather than marriage.” He enjoyed the tilt of her chin when she defiantly looked him in the eyes once again.

“Aren’t all marriages a form of slavery where the wife is expected to act in a certain way? I can think of only one marriage I know of that was entered into willingly. Can you think of another?”

The hint of exasperation in her voice tugged at his heart. Was she being forced into a marriage against her will? As much as he had resented her at first, he never wished her such an ill fate.

Clearing his throat, he sat back in his seat and looked to the front of the shop where Lady Sinclair sat glaring at him. “I must admit that you have me on that score. I cannot think of a single example. Yet if I have learned anything from the many books I have read, there is always a way of escape.”

Lifting her head, she allowed her lips to curve into the faintest of smiles. “Oh?”

“Oh, yes, there is always a way of escaping, no matter how dire the situation may seem.” He nodded triumphantly and crossed his arms over his chest as if he were an expert on the matter.

His reply seemed to spark something within her as she sat up a little straighter. “And if the heroine were looking for a means to escape, which path would you suggest?”

Her question caught him off guard as he suddenly began to enjoy her company. “I’m not certain; I would have to know more about the heroine in question. Is she wealthy enough to run away and start a life on her own? She could assume an alias and live abroad. Scotland, or even France comes to mind.”

A look of sadness came over her face once again as she sighed. “And if that was not an option? If the heroine in question did not have her own money and needed the approval of her family to live the life she wanted? What is she to do then?”

He momentarily allowed his gaze to linger on her face, taking in the perfect lips, large eyes, and all too hollow cheeks. “Then I think she should explore more options until she finds one more applicable to her circumstances. She could find a more agreeable match if the man she is being forced to marry is truly as horrid as she says.”

“I never said that the man in question was horrid.” She raised an eyebrow with the faintest of smiles as she looked at him.

Feeling his pulse race a little faster, he looked into her eyes, noting the depths that beckoned him like a deep pool in the middle of an abandoned mine. “Is it not reasonable to assume that the man is horrid if the heroine is so adamant about not marrying him?”

“The heroine could be spoiled, wanting a way out so she may spend the rest of her days as a pampered recluse. Or perhaps she simply does not wish to marry because she is that selfish.” Her eyes filled with emotions that drew him in.

“Perhaps, but I don’t think that either of those options is true.”

Her lips parted slightly as she seemed to take a deep breath. “How can you be so sure if you haven’t even read the book? Surely one would need more facts to draw an adequate and fair conclusion.”

“I can’t be sure, but I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I think that the heroine in question has valid reasons that will make her audience sympathize with her. In any case, I would like to know more about this heroine and what she will choose. If anything, I am a stickler for a happy ending.”

A distant tinkling of the shop bell drew Henry out of his daze just as he caught himself leaning closer. A light breeze entered the shop, wafting over them both as the sweet scent of vanilla perfume filled his senses.

“Isabelle, it is time to go!” Lady Sinclair barked from the front of the shop, slamming the door behind her as she left. The thick fabric of her dress swished over the floor like a final curtain call.

Jumping a little, Miss Sutton twitched and clutched the book in her lap. “I … I had better go; my aunt will not stop until I do.” She cleared her throat and looked around the shop as if seeing it for the very first time.”

“I understand.” He stood alongside her and bowed, watching as she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Until we meet again, Lord Ashford.” She lifted her gaze and looked at him with an unreadable expression before leaving the shop.

The scent of vanilla wafted through the air again as he watched her leave.

Something in the way she had spoken made him view her in an entirely different light. He had been vexed by her before, yet he now realized that she harboured a rich character and broader worldview.

He thought of how interesting it would be to speak to her again and even more interesting to find out who the man was that she was refusing to marry. Everything about her character and life seemed interesting to him, alluring even as he pondered the scenario.

Making his way out of the shop, he took his time walking back home. Nothing gave him greater joy in life than seeing someone prove him wrong. Despite his penchant for competitions and winning, he relished that Miss Sutton was more than she seemed.

He arrived home just in time to be confronted by the butler, who was waiting expectantly for his return. The halls were still filled with boxes of books, trinkets in tissue paper, and clothes.

“I hope your walk proved satisfactory, My Lord?” the man asked him out of formality rather than anything else.

“Yes, thank you, it was quite refreshing.” He allowed the butler to take his coat and gloves.

“A note arrived from Lady Fitzgibbon, My Lord. She wished to know when you will be leaving London. I suspect that she wished to say farewell before you go,” the butler asked him.

Out of celebration more than anything else.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t see why I should rush things; the move after all will be permanent. Perhaps I shall stay a few more days, just to see how things pan out.” He ignored the look of confusion on the butler’s face and began to climb the stairs.

Who knew? Perhaps he would see the happy ending of a feisty heroine before he left the ton behind him for good.