Chapter 37 - William
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN- WILLIAM
The next morning, while fog still slouched in the mouths of alleys like truant youths, William's carriage pulled discreetly to the back of Dahlia's townhome. She and Mara boarded, a frowning footman in tow.
"Bernard insisted," Dahlia said by way of explanation when William raised an eyebrow at the footman who’d joined the driver up front.
"As if I would let anything happen to you.”
"I rather think that Bernard suspects you might be the danger."
He chuckled and knocked on the roof of the carriage. They trundled down the cobblestones, the carriage gently swaying back and forth on its superior springs.
"I’m glad you agreed to join me.”
Even to his own ears, his words sounded vulnerable. That was fine—for her, he was willing to bare his heart. He’d done so multiple times already, and she hadn't been exactly encouraging. It was only during his last visit that there’d been something in her gaze that made him think all was not lost.
When he looked at her, William felt as if he were that young sailor standing on the deck of his first ship once more, the sails unfurled and full of wind, the sky blue and bright and full of endless opportunity. He could see a future for himself that others could not imagine.
It was the same now. He could see the route, difficult as it was. Though he knew he couldn’t predict every twist and corner it would take to get there, he could envision the outcome, and he pressed on toward it with determination.
He could see it—their years together, side by side. Laughter, joy, love. As long as Dahlia would allow, he would be with her, working for his dream of her, of them.
"Where exactly are we headed?" Dahlia asked.
"I’ve kept you in suspense for nearly a full day. May I keep you in the dark for a few minutes longer?"
She nodded, looking amused. "Very well. But I hope you know that Rachel and I spent much time speculating about where you might be taking me."
That pleased him—the fact that she'd been discussing him when he wasn't there, the fact that she'd spent time wondering about their outing this morning.
"I’d love to hear your guesses."
"Rachel thought that perhaps we were going to rob a bank."
"That's ridiculous. Banks aren't open at this hour."
"That's precisely what I said."
"What else?"
"She thinks you might be a pirate after all, and we're going to start plundering the other ships in the harbor."
"A better guess than bank robbing, to be sure. What do you think?"
"I think you mean to buy me something. Either that, or you're going to abscond with me to Gretna Green."
He laughed, his heart light. "It's a tempting notion, but Scotland is several days' travel, and I would never do that to your reputation."
"Forgive me for saying so, but you had little care for my reputation in the gardens the night of the Marquess of Whittaker’s ball."
"I have apologized for that, but now I must rescind that apology, as I no longer mean it."
“Shocking.”
A small smile lingered on Dahlia’s lips, one that bade him continue.
"You see, that apology was a lie, even when I said it. I’m not sorry for kissing you. I'm only sorry that I let you go so quickly. Though we can both agree the timing wasn’t right, I’ve still thought of that moment fondly over the years."
She arched her eyebrow. "Another shocking assertion. Is that your design, to stun me into submission?"
"Submission? From you? I would never expect such a thing. Besides, if Rachel cannot shock you, I doubt I could do so if I tried."
She smiled. It was warm and lovely, and he was determined to see that particular smile every day for the rest of his life, if he could manage it.
My fortune for a smile, he thought wryly.
Dahlia leaned forward and glanced out the window. "Well, my first guess is gone. I thought we might be heading back to the silk warehouse.”
“Is that so?"
"It was my suspicion that you saw how happy fabric makes me, and that you wished to bribe me into compliance with another bolt of silk."
"That silk bought me no compliance whatsoever. I wish I’d never given it to you, as it caused nothing but problems between us."
"Don’t wish that silk away," she chided. "It’s now one of my very favorite gowns. It's not the silk's fault that the previous owner was a little boorish."
"True. In retrospect, I should have realized then and there that if I was willing to part with that bolt at such a loss, then I was much in love with you already."
He enjoyed the blush that crept from her cheekbones, even as she raised her chin. "You speak of love in such a cavalier fashion that it makes me doubt you know the meaning of it."
He leaned closely and murmured, "You may doubt me on many things, Dahlia, but do not doubt me on that."
Her eyelashes fluttered. She averted her gaze, even as she flushed further. Then he was not the only one who felt the effects of their proximity. William fought the desire to draw closer; he leaned back instead.
"If I thought I could bribe you into accepting my proposal, I’d try it in a heartbeat. However, I don’t for a moment think you’d fall for base tactics like those.”
“You may give me too much credit—perhaps you didn’t observe me that closely at the silk warehouse, after all.”
"What were your other ideas?"
"Well, we aren't headed toward Rotherton's Jewelry either."
He could feel that his answering smile was smug. "I thought that would be a little preemptive, though if it would work, I’ll tell the coachman to turn us around immediately."
"I doubt Rotherton is open at this hour, either.”
"Perhaps not, but I've heard a rumor that if he suspects you’ll spend enough, he'll open his jewelry shop for you at any time, day or night."
"Tempting, but I’m feeling more curious than mercenary at the moment."
"What would you prefer, when the time comes?" The slight crease between her eyebrows had him adding, "For a token of our engagement."
Dahlia shook her head, but the smile tugging at her lips told him the presumptuous question pleased her. "If I ever do get engaged, I will leave it to my husband to choose my gift."
"My first thought, naturally, was a diamond. As you are very comparable to one."
"Hard and unyielding?" she teased.
"Of immense value, and worth all the trouble to acquire."
"There you go speaking of me as an object again, when you explicitly said you weren't going to do so."
"But lately, I’ve noticed that you seem to favor pearls. There’s a jeweler I know in the south of India who pulls the most luminous pearls from the sea."
"You do realize I intend to be engaged by the end of the Season," she teased. "I'm not sure I’ll have the patience for a round trip to India."
"Excellent point."
Which was why he’d sent a letter nearly a week ago on his fastest ship. But William sensed he was already treading the edge of her willingness to believe him. He didn’t want to frighten her.
The pearls would arrive well after their engagement.
He would call them a wedding present then, or perhaps a Christmas present—it hardly mattered.
He’d purchased an emperor's ransom in rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and tiaras.
The jeweler would likely retire after William was done with him.
As they drew closer to their destination, William watched Dahlia closely for any sign of understanding. It was not until they pulled up before Madame Aubert's dress shop that Dahlia frowned.
"I'm not sure men are allowed here," she said when the carriage stopped in front of the polished black door.
"Men are not, typically—but I am."
Now was the time for honesty. He knew it, yet he was still nervous, though he had determined to do as Claire had suggested and let Dahlia in on one of his greatest secrets.
William canted his voice low so that even the footman and Dahlia's maid would not be able to hear them. "What I'm about to tell you has the potential to be ruinous were it to get out—not only to myself, but to my sisters and those who depend upon this shop for their livelihood. If you already know that you cannot love me, if there is no hope between us, and you’re taking me on a merry chase for your own amusement, I beg you’ll tell me now, or, at the very least, that you’ll have enough compassion to never share what I’m about to tell you. "
She studied him for long moments, then finally nodded. "You have my word.”
Her tone and expression left no doubt as to her sincerity.
"This is the secret that my brother exiled me for. I hadn't told him what I'd been doing until then."
"Which was what?"
He took a deep breath. "Madame Aubert and her shop are my creation. This shop is one of several that I own in order to sell my silk."
“You own Madame Aubert’s shop?”
He nodded, watching her closely. Was she impressed? Or was she frightened by his capacity for duplicity? He couldn't tell.
William took a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”
Dahlia nodded.
He alighted and helped her down from the carriage. Though it appeared she believed him, Dahlia’s eyes still went wide when he produced a key from his waistcoat and opened the shop door. Mara followed them in; the carriage pulled to a discreet distance down the block.
Madame Aubert's shop was dark and dim, but the lamp was in its customary place. William lit it, then led the ladies into what was affectionately dubbed the silk room, though it held fabrics of all kinds.
"Mara," he asked, "there is a kitchen in the back, and there should be a fire lit. Will you please make us some tea?"
Mara waited for Dahlia’s approval. Dahlia nodded; Mara left.
William said, "If we’d arrived alone, I would have brought you through the rear entrance. However, there is another way in."
Dahlia frowned but nodded.
He walked to the wall of muslins and pulled out several bolts of the cheapest fabric that hardly anyone wanted, tossing them carelessly on the cutting table. William reached back, found the latch, and depressed it. There was a click, and the entire case swung forward out of the wall.