touched her heart. She cast him a smile. ‘Perhaps we should charge Bart with such a task.’
He laughed as he escorted her out the door to the street. ‘Very wise idea.’
Madeleine had an illusion of being transported to the town of her childhood. The pavement was more crowded, indeed, and the shops more varied and numerous, but it was a most respectable street, and her dress indistinguishable from other young ladies shopping. Or so she thought. She still received many curious looks.
‘Devlin, are you sure my appearance is acceptable?’
Devlin had noticed the admiring glances of the men and appraising looks of the women. He could not help but be proud to be Madeleine’s escort. Beautiful even in her own ill-fitting frock, she quite took his breath away in her new walking dress.
‘You look lovely,’ he whispered back.
This news did not appear to cheer her. She furrowed her brow. Too bad some choice piece of horseflesh did not come into view to distract her.
Devlin caught sight of a shop window. ‘We must go in here.’ He pulled her into the shop. ‘Must not forget our girl.’
They entered a toy store with shelf after shelf of dolls, toy soldiers, and miniature coaches and wagons. An exquisite wax doll with real hair as dark and curly as Linette’s caught Devlin’s eye. He vowed he must purchase it for Linette. Madeleine adamantly refused, saying the child was too young to care for such a treasure. He settled instead for a porcelain-faced baby doll, a ball and blocks. As he finished giving the direction for the toys to be delivered that afternoon, he spied a carved wooden horse and, thinking perhaps the little girl might be horse-mad like her mother, added it to his purchases.
Back on the street, a handsome carriage drawn by a set of matching bays approached in their direction. Devlin frowned as he spied the crest. The carriage stopped next to them. As Madeleine shrank back, Devlin stepped forward to greet its passenger.
‘Devlin, it has been too long,’ the fair-haired lady at the carriage window exclaimed.
‘How are you, Serena?’ His sister-in-law was a good creature, well intentioned, eminently correct, with classical looks and very little in common with Devlin except a connection to his brother.
‘I am well, as usual,’ she responded in her soft voice. ‘And you, brother? We do worry when you do not call.’
‘I have been shockingly remiss, but I’m fit, I assure you.’
His sister-in-law gazed curiously at Madeleine. It had never entered his mind that he’d be required to introduce Madeleine to anyone, least of all his sister-in-law, the Marchioness.
He pulled Madeleine forward, needing to exert a little physical effort to do so. ‘Serena, may I present Miss England. Miss England, the Marchioness of Heronvale, my sister-in-law.’
Madeleine executed a very correct curtsy.
‘Have we met before, Miss England? I do not recall.’
Madeleine, with her eyes downcast replied, ‘No, madam.’
‘Well, perhaps I may convey you both to your destination? I would be pleased to do so.’
Devlin suspected Serena would be very pleased for an opportunity to find out who her brother-in-law escorted unchaperoned through this shopping district. He felt Madeleine painfully squeeze his arm.
‘I believe Miss England has one or two more shops to visit, but that was kind of you, Serena.’
‘Are the shops worthwhile, Miss England? I confess I have never visited the ones on this street.’
‘They suit me very well, madam,’ responded Madeleine in a quiet voice.
‘Perhaps you could recommend one to me,’ the Marchioness persisted. Devlin knew her inquiry to be meant in a friendly way, but he also knew his brother’s wife was nearly as fixed on him securing his future as was his brother. She wanted nothing more than to see him happily married; the Marquess wanted merely to keep his brother’s fortune secure.
‘I would not presume to.’ Madeleine looked miserable. Only his firm hold on her arm kept her from bolting, he suspected.
A hackney coach came from behind, its driver shouting for the carriage to move on.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Serena. ‘We had better go.’
‘Indeed,’ replied Devlin.
‘Please call soon, Devlin. My pleasure, Miss England.’ The carriage moved forward and these last words faded with distance.
‘Devlin, may we please go home now?’ Madeleine raised a shaking hand to her bonnet.
‘No,’ he said mildly, determined for her not to be made uncomfortable by her encounter with Serena. ‘We need to have you measured for shoes and I must not return without cloth for Sophie.’
‘Oh, yes, I quite forgot Sophie’s cloth,’ she murmured. A racing phaeton whizzed by. She did not even notice.
‘Maddy, were you made uncomfortable by my sister-in-law?’
They walked a few steps before she answered. ‘It was very improper to introduce me to her.’
‘I disagree. It would have been ill-mannered not to introduce you. An insult to you.’
He glanced at her, seeing her brows knitted together and her bottom lip trembling slightly. ‘A fine lady like the Marchioness should not be made to converse with one such as me.’
‘Maddy, I refuse to allow you to speak so. You have studied your appearance. You could not be more presentable.’ He did not yet know the story, but he would wager she’d not chosen her life with Farley. But who would choose such a life? Only a woman with no other choice.
‘My appearance does not alter the fact that you should not have introduced a marchioness to…to Haymarket-ware.’
‘I refuse for you to speak so,’ he said.
She did not look at him. ‘I will endeavour to obey you, my lord.’
He yanked open the door to the shoemaker.
After he’d ordered various pairs of shoes for her, he seemed relaxed again. By the time they’d selected several pieces of material at the cloth merchant’s shop, they were back in temper with each other.
Devlin hailed a hack. As he negotiated with the driver, Madeleine noticed a gentleman across the street looking at her.
Farley.
He saw her look in his direction and tipped his hat to her. Her heart pounded wildly, and she feared she might vomit. She felt Farley’s eyes on her the entire time it took for Devlin to lift her into the hack.
As they pulled away, he saluted her once more.
Lord Edwin Farley watched the hack start off down the street. He had taken to frequenting a tobacconist on this row, one of the deplorable economies he was forced to make in his constrained
