Chapter 4 #2
“This one says she enjoys being active, taking rides in the park, walks and reading. But she’s not afraid of a little excitement and adventure.
I suppose that would frighten off most people who would want dour and serious chaperones,” Meredith mused.
“If I am to have a companion, I would greatly love a woman who would embrace life rather than try to deny me of it.” Meredith snuck a glance at Darius, who watched her closely.
He noticed her look and smiled softly. “I rather agree, actually. I want you to have no silly peahens for a chaperone, nor fire breathing dragons. It would be nice to have a good woman to keep us both out of trouble, as it were, but not abridge our freedoms.”
Suzannah laughed. “Abridge your freedoms? Darius, I doubt any woman would seek to check your behavior.”
Meredith watched Suzannah and Darius’s easy camaraderie with a pang of envy. How had she grown to be so close to a gentleman who was not her husband? The countess was lucky, very lucky indeed.
“Very well then. I will write to Mrs. Petersham and see if she will meet with us,” Darius said. “That brings us to the next order of business, Meredith. Your wardrobe.”
Meredith, her mouth now full of food, gulped painfully as she tried to swallow.
“Wardrobe? I’m afraid I do not possess the funds for—”
“Meredith, my uncle requested I take care of you, and that includes a roof over your head, food in your belly, connecting you to eligible men, and that certainly requires a new wardrobe.”
Darius continued to watch her with those piercing eyes that she feared saw too much. There was no way this clever, smart man would have kissed her last night. She definitely had dreamed it. Darius was too refined, too in control ever to kiss her.
She suddenly felt ill with embarrassment. “Oh…”
As if sensing her distress, Suzannah reached out and patted her hand.
“Kit did the same with me. It is no use arguing with a gentleman who is determined to see that his lady is well turned out.”
“Exactly,” Darius leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Now please eat and we shall depart for Bond Street.”
Meredith continued her meal in silence as she listened to Suzannah and Darius discuss people she didn’t know and places she’d never been to.
When I marry someday, I want to belong. I want to have a shared history with my husband and know his world so well it becomes my own.
She wanted that so badly her chest ached.
Once she had finished, Darius went to summon his coach, leaving Suzannah and Meredith to wait in the entryway.
“You don’t mind that I accompany you to the dressmaker?” Suzannah asked.
Meredith smiled at her new friend. “Of course not. I’m glad for your company.”
“Good. Darius has impeccable taste, I assure you, but we ladies always need each other in times of wardrobe building.”
Meredith laughed. “I quite agree on that. It would be good to have your insight as to what I should wear for London. I’ve only ever kept a simple wardrobe suited for the country.”
Suzannah tightened the strings of her reticule. “Besides, someone must chaperone you until we hire someone. I want you to have the best of chances finding a husband, and while Darius is more than honorable, tongues have a way of wagging, especially when it comes to untruths.”
Meredith was glad that Suzannah was so willing to help someone she’d only just met. “Thank you, truly.”
“Of course. I promised you we would be friends.”
* * *
Darius heard the last of the ladies’ conversation as he joined them in the foyer.
It gladdened his heart to see Suzannah so open and welcoming to Meredith.
She already treated the young woman like family, just as he would wish his friends to.
He retrieved his cane from Mr. Chelsea, wincing as he took a step that tugged the wrong way at the scar tissue on his stomach.
Chelsea offered a hand to steady him. “Your Grace?”
“I’m all right,” Darius assured him. Then he noticed Suzannah’s suddenly teary eyes, and Meredith’s confusion and concern.
“Blast it, Suzannah. Do not cry or I shall send you home.”
Suzannah’s eyes flashed. “You cannot expect me to forget that you were nearly killed because of me.”
With a frustrated growl, he tapped his cane on the floor. “I do expect you to forget it, because I will not suffer your tears. If Kit sees you with red eyes, he will thrash me.”
“Nonsense. He will embrace you for saving me.”
Meredith was clearly confused, but he was in no mood to explain himself.
“Shall we go?” he said a little too curtly.
“Meredith, if you live with Darius, you shall have to accustom yourself to the fact that Darius does not like to make women cry, even if he did save their lives.”
Meredith’s face reddened at being caught in the middle of this argument. Darius glowered at Suzannah, then gestured for them to proceed ahead of him to the waiting coach.
“Will you tell me what happened?” Meredith whispered to Suzannah.
“I was shot and stabbed,” Darius cut in, “neither of which affected my hearing. The bullet tore through my shoulder. The knife pierced my abdomen. I was protecting Suzannah from Kit’s enemies. And I would do it again, so she should save her blasted tears,” he said roughly.
“And he is simply wonderful for saving me,” Suzannah added to Meredith with a knowing look. “Even if he pretends to be a bit beastly about it.”
“I am not pretending.”
That was the end of the matter, thankfully.
Suzannah dried her eyes and spoke to Meredith about wardrobe possibilities while Darius sat wondering how he felt like he lost a battle that he didn’t even know he’d been fighting.
By the time they arrived at the first stop on Bond Street, carriages crowded the street and the press of shoppers made Darius’s head ache.
He held up a hand as he got out of the coach first. “Just a moment, ladies.”
Several gentleman lounged idly by the doors of the shops, their eyes keenly searching for young ladies.
But so long as Darius was there, they would not speak a word to Suzannah or Meredith.
The sidewalk was full of fashionably attired ladies, smartly dressed gentleman, and footmen who rushed after their masters and ladies, laden with parcels and hatboxes.
“Suzannah, you shall go first.” Darius assisted her out and one of his footmen followed Suzannah into the nearest linen-draper shop.
Then Darius turned to help Meredith out of the coach.
He grasped her by the waist, bringing her close to him so she avoided any dirt near the curb of the street.
Her breath caught, and he was dazzled for a moment by the bloom of fresh color in her cheeks.
“Th—thank you,” she whispered as she lifted her lashes. Her hazel eyes banished the world around them so that only she existed. “Please don’t be cross with Suzannah. You are a hero. You saved her. Any woman would feel deeply grateful to a man who did that.”
Her words humbled him. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I do not wish to see a lady cry,” he said quite honestly. “Any lady.”
“She’s right,” Meredith added softly. “You are rather wonderful.”
He nearly stumbled as he started to take Meredith’s arm in his own. She thinks I’m wonderful? Damned if that didn’t make him feel as though he could conquer the world.
Uncle Ben’s words returned to him. He wanted to play the hero and had it had nearly killed him. There was no glory in such a foolish thing, seeking out trouble the way he did.
They stepped into the linen-draper shop, surrounded by bolts of brightly colored fabric.
Silks, satins, muslin, and lace in dozens of color and patterns formed a vibrant display on the walls and racks.
Several women were in the shop moving about excitedly, examining the colors and touching the fabrics.
Meredith joined Suzannah at the counter where bolts of bright colors like ripe peaches and brilliant summer blue skies were being paired together.
Darius took in the silent stories on the faces of the customers around him.
It was his habit to observe the people around him and that hadn’t changed, even during an innocent shopping trip.
An older woman covered in fine silk ordered a harried shop worker to collect dozens of fabrics. She was clearly shopping out of boredom, no doubt nearly ready to buy everything that came before her simply to pass the time.
Another woman, dressed in the height of fashion, was looking over the wares with a sigh of disinterest, as though she came here often and never found anything that inspired her.
Next he turned his gaze to a pair of women, one a rich woman of middling years and the other seemed to be of debut age.
The young woman addressed the elder as her aunt whenever she spoke to her.
The young lady eyed the satin wistfully, and yet uttered not a word as her aunt waxed on about avoiding the frills and silly fashions which the aunt had seen fit to wear herself,.
The last woman had a bold colored, low-necked gown.
She was playfully stroking her fingers over a roll of Belgian lace.
A Cyprian, or a high-class lady of the night, if he had to guess.
One desiring a gentleman to come and buy some lace for her or perhaps offer her even more.
He flashed a polite but cool smile at her before he rejoined his two ladies.
Suzannah was explaining to the linen-draper about Meredith’s wardrobe needs.
It was going to be expensive, but Darius had over twenty-thousand pounds a year to his name and had no siblings with which to share his fortune, so he was free to spend his money as he pleased.
And it pleased him well to see Meredith’s excited little gasps each time a brightly colored bolt of fabric was added to the pile on the counter for the shopkeeper to measure and cut.
After the linen-drapers they moved on to the milliner’s, where they acquired a ridiculous stack of hatboxes, and finally, the modiste. His beleaguered footman was clearly relieved to abandon the yards of fabric they’d purchased on the dressmaker’s counter.
Darius lounged on a settee facing the dressing rooms and the trio of large mirrors where Meredith was standing to be fitted.
The dressmaker, seeing Darius’s coach had arrived, closed the shop for a private fitting session.
It suited him well enough to have the place all to themselves.
He chuckled as the modiste measured Meredith and prodded at her abundant bosom with a frown, as though wanting to find a way to squash her breasts down flat.
If the woman dared to cover those magnificent breasts, she would never hear the end of it from him.
Best to end this folly quickly. He waved the dressmaker over.
“Yes, Your Grace?” the woman asked as he rose from the settee.
“Miss Montague has a very lovely figure, does she not?” he asked.
“She…yes, she does.” The woman clearly feared she would give him the wrong answer.
“Then let us be sure that we show her to her best advantage, and not try to hide anything overly much?” he said carefully.
“Yes, yes, of course.” The dressmaker let out a breath of relief. “If you don’t mind such fashions, I can certainly display her… assets in a way that won’t cause any scandal.”
“I leave her in your capable hands.” He resumed his seat and let the dressmaker return to her task.
More than once, Meredith cast him a beseeching glance as Suzannah and the modiste discussed various dresses.
Unable to ignore her looks of dread for long, Darius stood and came over to her as she perched shyly on the little pedestal surrounded by the mirrors.
The raised pedestal brought her level to his face, which pleased him more than it should because it put her lips in perfect alignment with his own.
He was reminded of the kiss she’d stolen from him last night. A kiss that continued to vex him in the sweetest and yet most wicked way. Did she remember that she’d kissed him? He couldn’t ask, not here, at any rate.
“Darius,” she whispered. “Surely this is all too much?”
“What?” he asked innocently, though he knew exactly what she was talking about.
“I need only a few gowns. Suzannah has already ordered twenty.”
“Did my uncle not buy you gowns each year?” Darius asked.
“He tried,” Meredith replied. “But I didn’t let him. Though I wished I was his natural born child, I was not. I could not in good conscience accept anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
Darius considered her words seriously, realizing then just how his pretty ward saw herself…as an unworthy burden upon others. She was so very wrong on that account and he was going to teach her.
“I must regrettably inform you that as my ward, as long as you are in a duke’s household in London, all of this”—he waved a hand around the dressmaker’s shop—”is absolutely necessary.
I fear you must resign yourself to a wardrobe so exquisite that you would sparkle like a diamond at every engagement we attend. Such is the burden you must bear.”
Meredith’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she realized how he had trapped her into accepting the lavish new wardrobe.
“Drat,” she murmured. Darius burst out laughing so hard that it Suzannah looked over to him in shock.
He recovered himself and returned to his seat. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to escort Meredith about town and shower her with gifts. He’d always enjoyed the practice of spoiling his mistresses, but had to remember Meredith was not his mistress.
She was a young lady in need of an excellent match, not to share his bed, no matter how much she tempted him.
And Meredith Montague tempted him deeply.
With her soulful hazel eyes, her love for Uncle Ben, and her overdeveloped determination to never be a bother to anyone, it made him half-mad to do just about anything for her.
And that, he acknowledged as he paid the dressmaker’s bill, was exactly the problem.
Darius had always prided himself on his control over his desires, but Meredith frayed that control like no other woman ever had.
He was going to have to be damned careful, or he would risk far more than just his control. He’d risk Meredith’s ruination.