Chapter 11 #2
Archie nodded respectfully and held out his hand to Valentina. Her hands remained clutched around the reticule in her lap. “Why are you here?” she asked.
“I wanted to make sure—”
“Now, off with ye,” shouted the farmer. Valentina realized he was shouting at her. “I don’t have truck with lords and their fancy women.”
Valentina supposed she was the fancy woman in this scenario. Her only option was to vacate her perch on the cart. The farmer flapped the reins and set his donkey into motion.
Now, she was stuck in the middle of the road. Annoyance flared at the man standing before her with a lopsided grin on his mouth. “Now you’ve lost me my ride.”
He jutted his chin toward his coach-and-four. “I’ve a better one.”
Like that, last night lifted its thoroughly pleasured head. Was a double meaning located in his words? She searched his eyes and found not a hint of salaciousness. Of course, that meant nothing with this man.
“Shall we?” he asked.
She exhaled a deep, resigned sigh, and he took her hand to help her into his carriage. It was the most luxurious carriage she’d ever encountered. Of course. It was even scented of cloves and spice. Of him.
She sat on the plush bench opposite him. After last night, she’d wondered how she would face him again. But it was shockingly easy.
Was it so shocking, though?
She’d wanted to do what she’d done with him—desperately. It wasn’t only about his charm and handsome exterior. It was those depths of his that few likely saw.
“Why are you here?” she asked conversationally.
“Word has it you’re paying a visit to your family, and I thought it would be a lark to join you.”
She believed him. Yet more lurked below, as always did with this man. She decided to let it pass. “My family aren’t like yours.” He needed to understand the sort of family she came from. “They’re not larkers.”
His charming smile didn’t yield. “I’m certain we’ll rub along like bees and flowers.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps not the most apt metaphor.”
Or was it too apt?
She shook off the question. She doubted not that he would be unequal to the challenge of charming her family. Well, perhaps not Mama. Mama was decidedly un-charmable. It was one of her most endearing characteristics.
“My question remains, Lord Archer,” said Valentina. “Why are you here?”
“Archie,” he corrected. He glanced out the window. “You’ll be at the musicale tonight?”
Ah. Now she understood. He thought she’d left, for good. She saw his question for what it was. A crack. An insecurity revealed. “I shall,” she said.
“Because the outswindle depends on it,” he said. He’d returned his gaze to her. It burned with intensity.
“I’ll be there, Archie.”
This seemed to settle something inside him, and he nodded. “You don’t need time to ready yourself with all the perfumes, ointments, and tinctures ladies use to ready themselves?”
She shrugged. “Half an hour will do.”
He laughed. She detected relief in that laugh. “You truly aren’t from my world.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Why had she asked such a question? She shouldn’t. And yet… Something in her needed to know.
All traces of his charming smile fell away. “Not at all. Very much the opposite.”
Last night was suddenly between them, its substance so dense it was nearly a solid object.
In the new light of morning, she didn’t feel as she’d thought she would. It was this absence of shame. Though she may come to regret her relations with this man someday, it wouldn’t be because she regretted what they’d done last night.
“Are you feeling…” He looked utterly nonplussed. “Erm, rested?”
Valentina opted for the honest answer. “Not particularly.”
He laughed, and the tension released from the carriage.
Outside the window, she could see they were now rolling down the high street of Hampstead, familiar shops to either side passing by.
“You can instruct the coachman to let us out there.” She pointed toward the shopfront with the word APOTHECARY emblazoned in brass above its front door.
“Our family’s quarters are behind and above the shop. ”
Valentina felt a smile form about her mouth as she landed on cobblestones whose every curve and divot she knew by heart. “Home,” she said. “Follow me.”
She pushed the front door open, and the bell above announced her arrival with a little jingle.
The shop was far from its typically quiet self.
Instead, she and Archie found a hive of activity.
Then she remembered what today was. Twice a year Papa set aside a Sunday to make repairs to the shop and give it a general spiff up.
“Valentina,” called out one of her brothers—Antonio—with a wave. Three others lifted their heads in greeting, but didn’t pause in their duties.
Papa’s head appeared above his prize walnut counter, and a smile broadened across his face. “Valentina!” His eyes shifted, and his smile dipped a fraction, his warm gaze narrowing with assessment. “And who do you have with you?”
She’d known this was coming. Of course, Papa would wonder about this man she’d brought home.
She was clearing her throat to make introductions when Archie stepped forward, face lit by his charming smile, which he’d wisely turned down a few degrees, hand extended over the counter for a shake. “Archie Windermere,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hart.”
Papa’s eyebrows lifted. It wasn’t only Valentina who’d noticed he’d left the Lord off his name.
He was just so utterly and completely a lord, no disguising it.
Still, Papa took Archie’s proffered hand and gave it a shake, even as he flicked a quick glance toward Valentina.
She could try to explain Archie to Papa, but best to let Archie explain himself.
“Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Where can I pitch in?” He’d already shed his morning coat and was rolling up his sleeves.
A measure of appreciation entered Papa’s eyes. He wasn’t about to turn down an offer of free labor. “Luca,” he called out to Valentina’s youngest brother. “Show Mr. Windermere—”
“Archie.”
Papa’s eyebrows crinkled quizzically. “Show Archie the drawer you’re repairing.” He pointed toward the floor-to-ceiling wall of drawers of various sizes housing all manner of powders, herbs, serums, syrups, and tinctures.
Archie flashed Valentina a grin as he passed, leaving her with Papa. But before Papa could question her about the friendly stranger, a voice claimed her attention. “Valentina, mia cara.”
Mama stood in the doorway that led to the kitchen at the back of the shop, a question in her serious brown eyes.
“Mama,” said Valentina, crossing the distance between them, submitting to a lengthy hug and a kiss on each cheek.
After Mama had properly assessed Valentina for wellness, and found her in good health, she glanced pointedly in Archie’s direction, then said, “Come with me.”
Valentina followed Mama through the scrumptious-smelling kitchen warm with baking bread to the small back garden, where she’d been pruning her herb garden.
Mama handed Valentina a basket for collecting clippings, lowered to her knees, and returned to her task.
Scents of basil, rosemary, thyme, and sage swirled through the mid-morning air.
Valentina’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal Mama would prepare with these herbs.
“Who is that man?” asked Mama. She wasn’t one to mince words.
But…how to explain Archie?
Simply and honestly. Mama would see through anything else.
“He’s the man who will see our family’s savings returned.”
Mama’s direct gaze cut sideways to meet Valentina’s. “You truly believe this?”
Valentina’s answer was instantaneous. “Yes.”
Mama’s eyebrows lifted. She only ever believed a promise after it had become tangible substance that she could hold in her hands.
“Without any doubt,” continued Valentina. She believed Archie capable of anything he set his mind to.
“He’s a lord?” Mama almost spat the question.
“Yes.” Valentina had known this could be a stumbling block.
Mama’s gaze fixed on a point over Valentina’s shoulder. She turned and saw Archie and Papa standing in the kitchen, talking. Nay, not merely talking. The two were having what appeared to be a conversation of some intensity. Then Archie held out a white square of paper. A calling card.
Valentina felt her eyebrows draw together. What was Archie about?
“You’re certain about this man?” asked Mama. “You trust him?”
Valentina nodded, distracted.
Mama took her hand. “And I trust you, Valentina. I trust your heart.” She came to her feet and dusted off her skirts. “Now, let us cook.”