Chapter 11
Two days later
Madame Chapelle’s, Clements Lane
Kitty popped the thread in her mouth, closed one eye, and threaded the needle. She was in the workroom of the shop, where she could easily access all the supplies necessary to complete her tasks. Life had taken such an unexpected turn.
In only a few days, she had witnessed a murder, been torn from her home, and become an employee of Madame Chapelle’s.
Genie and Lydia treated her like family, and she wanted nothing more than to do well by them.
But she would prefer to sleep in her own bed.
The workroom was bright with a large window facing the church across the street.
The room itself was up a short flight of steps, so it wasn’t at street level.
Kitty could keep the curtains and window open without worry of a passerby spying her.
There was a long wooden table used for spreading out and cutting material.
Several mannequins wore different orders in progress.
Shelves across one wall held small bins of buttons, beads, threads, sequins, paste jewels—anything Kitty could imagine needing for her embellishments.
She had proven to be fast and precise with a needle and would be paid according to the work finished.
Genie had decided to provide Kitty with a sketch the next time a client ordered an accessory to match a gown or pelisse.
Kitty would be able to use Genie’s own supplies but would work on the piece after shop hours.
Lydia had suggested paying by the hour, having Kitty give them an estimate of the time needed to complete a project.
They would add their profit to Kitty’s estimate to figure the cost to the customer.
She would be under the aunt and niece’s watchful eye to begin with.
Kitty understood and had no qualms with that.
Madame Chapelle’s could open impossible doors for her.
It already had with this new position as assistant.
If only she could share her news with Pa and Joe.
Hug Terry to her chest and feel his warm tongue tickling her cheek when he gave her a kiss.
Mr. Cooper would join them for supper tonight. Her breath caught as she thought of his handsome face, the kind, tawny eyes, and that devastating smile. She sighed, remembering their last goodbye. His warm lips against hers, his knuckles feathering her jaw. Her body craving more.
“Must be some fine thoughts running through that pretty head of yours,” said Lydia Peckton, grinning at her. “I remember that expression well.”
Kitty blushed and bent her head, trying to focus on the sleeve she was attaching to a jonquil spencer.
“Would it have to do with a certain Mr. Cooper?” she asked, her brows rising.
“It might,” she admitted. When she looked up, Lydia’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“He’s an excellent young man. Intelligent, kind, makes a good living, and handsome, though I suppose you haven’t noticed the last.”
Kitty snorted, then covered her nose with her hand, her eyes wide. Both women burst out laughing as Genie entered the room.
“What did I miss?” she asked, hands on her slim hips. She wore a lilac sprigged muslin, her hair pulled up in a loose chignon, long blonde curls falling against her cheeks. A simple lilac ribbon adorned her crown.
“Just teasing our new friend,” said Lydia.
Those words warmed Kitty, and she blinked back the unexpected emotion. What generous hearts these ladies had, to admit her into their world without question and offer their friendship. If there were more people like them—and the O’Briens—the world would be a much sweeter place.
“Clayton told me a certain brother spoke with a certain person’s father, giving said brother leave to court the daughter.” This time, it was Genie waggling her brows.
“You would make a terrible spy,” said Lydia, laughing. “In other words, we need to be sure to act as chaperones tonight when Benjamin arrives.”
“I ordered the flounder from the fishmonger, and it will be delivered later this afternoon,” Genie said, ignoring her aunt’s jab. “I decided against the green hastens. I can’t see spending the extra money on canned peas when they will be cheaper and fresh in July.”
“I have early potatoes and some turnips left. I’m using the last of the carrots for a soup.” Lydia leaned over Kitty’s shoulder, observing the stitches.
Kitty was already used to the informal inspections and welcomed any advice for improvement. She had never been one to cringe from criticism, especially when it was well-intended. “Are the stitches close enough?”
“Up until here,” said Lydia, pointing at a stitch that was a little off. “It won’t take but a minute to pull those few out and redo it.”
As she finished the sleeve, Kitty hummed. Since arriving, she had gone from devastated and frightened to optimistic about her future. The cards were falling in her favor. Perhaps Mr. Cooper was her lucky charm. Poor man, she thought with a grin.
Cursed Cooper, Mr. Walters had said. At one point, we stopped using the term “with a little luck” because it never happened.
Maybe she would turn out to be lucky for Cursed Cooper.
* * *
“The fish was perfect,” said Mr. Cooper, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “According to my sister, Nora, flounder can be easy to overcook.”
“That is correct, which is why it is better to poach it with lemon and a little white wine.” Lydia beamed at the compliment. “I hope you saved room for dessert. I used the last of the winter pears to make a crumble.”
“Be still, my heart,” said Mr. Cooper.
When they gathered in the parlor, Genie took out a deck of cards, stared at it, then put it away. She gazed about the room, obviously searching for an activity that didn’t include any type of luck.
Aunt Lydia came to the rescue. “Let’s play a word association game. We will each have three slips of paper and will write a word on each. The first player chooses one from the bowl and announces the contents. Then each player afterwards must say a word that is associated.”
Genie explained further, “So, I read the word ‘sky,’ the next player may say ‘blue,’ and the next says ‘ocean’ and so on?”
“Exactly,” said Lydia. “There is no winner or loser, so luck has nothing to do with the game.”
Kitty realized the ladies were trying to help Mr. Cooper save face from losing any games. It was typical of them to be so considerate, but she thought the solicitor was quite used to his lot. However, the game sounded intriguing, so she played along.
Genie passed around pencils and tore a sheet of paper into strips. They each wrote a word on the slips, folded them, and tossed them in a porcelain bowl. Lydia picked up the container, stirred the paper with a forefinger, then chose a piece.
“Frog,” she said with a laugh and turned to Kitty.
“Leg,” Kitty said and looked at Mr. Cooper.
“Up,” he quipped.
“Over,” called out Genie.
“Spend,” said Lydia.
“Thrift,” added Kitty, smiling at Mr. Cooper.
“Maggie.” He blinked, then roared with laughter.
Lydia smacked his knee. “Impertinent boy!”
They began again, and the evening flew by.
Besides the word game, Lydia had shared some stories of when Genie was a girl.
Genie shared that the stablemaster at the local mews was sweet on Lydia.
Mr. Cooper announced Nora had been cast in two Charles Macready performances at the Theatre Royal in June.
“Is it a major role?” asked Kitty, taking in the fact that his sister would be acting with the renowned Macready.
He shook his head. “No, but she’s hoping by being in the production, she’ll be noticed and considered for bigger parts.”
“She’s quite talented,” said Lydia. “Voice of an angel.”
“She can play almost any instrument,” added Genie.
“Quite the paragon,” murmured Kitty, already intimidated by the woman before even meeting her.
Mr. Cooper turned to her. “Would you like to see one of the plays?”
Her hand flew to her chest. “I’d love to. I’ve only seen the outdoor productions at Vauxhall when Mama was still alive. She would insist Pa take us once I was old enough.”
“Hopefully, this situation will be resolved. Our family usually reserves a box when Nora performs, so it would be a family affair.” He watched her, and she realized he was waiting to see her reaction.
She smiled. “That would be lovely. I look forward to meeting the rest of your family. Especially if they are anything like the members I’m already acquainted with.”
When he made his farewells, Kitty rose to accompany him to the door.
“Why don’t you see Benjamin down the stairs, dear,” Lydia said to Kitty.
“Of course,” she said, her heart soaring at the thought of a kiss to end a wonderful evening.
At the bottom of the stairs, she heard a click as someone shut the door above them. They were alone. Mr. Cooper turned to face her, holding his hat. He placed it on his head, freeing both hands to grip her waist and pull her closer.
“If I don’t kiss you in the next minute, I will die,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
“We can’t allow that,” she said, tipping her face up. “I—”
His mouth claimed hers, stopping any further words or thoughts. It was only taste and touch. She breathed in his Bay Rum cologne, the spicy scent tickling her senses. His hands gripping her hips, sending an aching pulse low in her core as his hard body pressed against her.
She slipped her fingers around his neck, wondering how he knew just how to touch her, hold her, make her weak in the knees.
When his tongue glided along the seam of her mouth, she parted her lips.
When he entered her, she gasped against him, and soon he was holding her up, running a hand along her back.
When the kiss ended, her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath and slow her thumping heart.
They locked eyes, and the tenderness in those tawny orbs almost undid her.
The thought flickered through her mind how easily an inexperienced girl could be seduced.
Kitty would toss caution to the wind at this moment.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice raw as he leaned his forehead against hers.
“For what?” She couldn’t focus on words, her mind swirling with happiness and… passion? What was this tumultuous feeling flooding her body, her heart?
“For the kiss, for being you, for allowing me to—”
This time, it was Kitty who cut off the conversation with a kiss. Her arms went around his neck, knocking off his hat. His reaction was swift, turning her against the wall, his fingers running up her arms, down her waist. He let out a groan.
“If I don’t leave now, we may both regret it,” he rasped against her cheek.
“Never, Mr. Cooper.” Feeling brave by his reaction, she tucked a finger in his cravat and pulled, placing her lips on his neck, just below his chin. His shiver had desire and power crashing within her chest.
“I believe Ben would be more appropriate at this time,” he murmured, placing a kiss on each eye, then her nose, and finally, finally her mouth again.
They both jerked back, ending the kiss at the sound of a key rattling in the upper door. “I’d wager that’s a hint, Ben,” she said, with a lazy smile. She liked the feel of his name on her lips.
“Kitty, when may I call on you again?” His voice pleaded with her, as if he was desperate to see her once more.
Tomorrow at sunrise.
“As soon as you can?” She would have no rest tonight. Her mind would be filled with dreams of a handsome, witty, intelligent man who kissed her breathless.