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“Penny, I will have to think about it. And I will need to see you make a pair of shoes. I must know if you can do the work.”

“Of course, of course. And I swear I shall never tell anyone about your past. I swear it, Mrs. Mortimer. I just needed you to listen.”

She needed a great deal more than a willing ear, but Helaine was apparently in a generous mood today. With a twist of her wrist, she indicated that it was time to keep walking. They didn’t speak the rest of the way to the shop. Helaine was too busy wondering at herself. She was not in a position to expand the shop. And yet here she was, taking in a girl and her baby without anything beyond a prayer.

“I make no promises,” she said sternly as they made it to the shop. “I have a partner who must agree. And if your work is terrible—”

“It isn’t.”

Helaine continued as if she hadn’t heard. “—or if you are rude to the customers, then I can’t have you here. I won’t.”

“I have waited on all manner of customers all my life.”

Helaine knew it was true. It would simply be a matter of the craftsmanship. If Penny truly was as good as she said, then perhaps they could work out an arrangement. Perhaps.

She was so busy thinking that she completely missed the man who stood by the doorway until she was almost right upon him. He was lounging there as if waiting just for her. And when his chocolate eyes danced with joy at seeing her—or at catching her unawares—she was hard-pressed to think of anything at all. Lord, was there anyone more of a ninny than her?

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Mortimer,” he said, his voice as smooth and rich as everything else about him.

She swallowed and tried to gather her wits. “Good afternoon, Lord Redhill. I don’t believe I have anything for your sister right now, but if you could step aside a moment, I shall check.”

He obliged her by stepping a good half inch aside. She glared at him because she knew he wanted to crowd her, to have his body close to hers. And as she undid the lock on the shop door, her entire right side tingled at his proximity. But that wasn’t what sent shivers down her spine. No, that came the moment she heard his voice all soothing and warm as he spoke to Tommy.

“Well, hello, young man. I see you are most fortunate, held aloft in the company of two beautiful women.”

Helaine pushed open the door and turned around just in time to see the boy grab hold of his lordship’s gloved finger and try to draw it to his mouth. He didn’t succeed, of course. The babe hadn’t the strength, but he did manage to play a game of tug back and forth with Lord Redhill, drawing the finger close only to have it slide down to chuck him under the chin. And all the while Helaine watched in horror as Lord Redhill’s expensive calfskin glove got covered in baby drool.

She would have said something. Indeed, she shared a shocked look with Penny. But there was nothing to do, as Lord Redhill appeared completely enthralled by his play with the child.

“He’s a handsome boy,” he said without pausing in his game.

“Thank you, your lordship,” said Penny with a soft-spoken deference in her tone. “His name is Tommy. I’m afraid he’s cutting teeth and your glove—”

“Teething, are you?” he said. “Well, that’s a painful process. What have you done to help him?”

Helaine looked to Penny for an answer. She was too flabbergasted to say anything. Imagine a man asking about the care of a baby! Most men would have dismissed the child from their thoughts within seconds of registering the annoyance. Meanwhile it was left to Penny to answer.

“I give him something hard to chew on. Bread if we have it. Papa used to let him chew on an old wood foot measure.”

Lord Redhill’s eyes raised. “A foot measure?”

“Miss Shoemaker and her brother are children of a rather famous, er, shoemaker, obviously. She’s come to visit my mother and me for a time.”

“So I have interrupted an afternoon visit,” he said as he walked into the shop. He moved slowly because Tommy still had hold of his finger and Penny had to follow at an equal pace. Then they were all inside and Helaine could shut the door. “But perhaps I could beg a moment of your time, Mrs. Mortimer. I do have something I wish to discuss with you.”

Helaine nodded. What else could she do? He was the brother of her most prestigious client, and truthfully, she was rather intrigued by his cheery mood. “Penny, if you would but follow me, I will show you upstairs. Your lordship, if you would disentangle yourself from Tommy?”

Lord Redhill grinned as he looked down at the boy. “Well, old chum, it’s time for the women to whisk you away. Here, why not keep my gloves? They’re clean and tough enough. Chew on them all you like. Much better than an old wooden tool, don’t you think?” So saying, he stripped off his gloves and left them clutched in the boy’s hands.

“Oh, your lordship!” gasped Penny. “They’re too fine for a baby to use!”

“Nonsense. I have another pair, and Tommy likes them.”

Helaine shook her head, both appalled and warmed by his generous act. Did he truly not understand the worth of his gloves? What man casually gave up fine leather gloves to a teething child? One who was too rich to understand their value or one who truly had a soft spot for children. Looking at Lord Redhill’s face, she knew the answer. He gazed at the boy with the same kind of wistful hunger she sometimes saw in her own mirror. He wanted a child, but despaired of ever having one.

Which was a ridiculous thought. Of course he would have children. He would marry a high society wife and start begetting children. It was only herself who would likely never marry, never have children. She was the daughter of a disgraced earl. No man of her set would have her, and even the tradesmen kept their distance. They sensed her education and upbringing even if no one knew of it. Besides, she had set herself up as a mistress to Lord Metzger. No decent man would have her now.

So rather than comment, she turned away and began climbing the stairs to the upper rooms. Her mother was there, dozing in a chair, but was soon roused, and her eyes gleamed with interest when she learned from Penny who waited below. Both ladies then shooed Helaine back downstairs, and she was all too willing to abandon them. But she didn’t burst in on him. Instead, she slowed to a stop just out of sight so that she could watch him.

He was sitting on the settee, paging through one of her sketchbooks of dress designs. All in all, he was of a rather normal sort for an aristocratic male in his prime. As was typical, he was slightly taller than the general public, with strong hands, broad shoulders, and clothing to emphasize his power. His hair was dark brown and wavy, and his eyes were a soft chocolate brown that reminded her of her favorite morning drink, once upon a time. His skin was clear, his teeth well placed, and even his nose wasn’t too pronounced. In short, he was normal and nothing about him explained the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw him.

He looked up as she neared, and his expression warmed with delight. Maybe that was the reason. She could recall no other gentleman who seemed genuinely happy to see her. Not even her father, though he could be delightful for short periods of time. Or maybe it was the way Lord Redhill simply looked at her, his eyes steady and clear. What did he see when he stared at her like that? She saw a man who did not drink to excess, who had a clear understanding of himself and the world, and who—apparently for this moment—wanted to spend his time with her.

She was powerless to refuse him. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t tweak him a bit.

“Looking for something in tulle, perhaps?” she asked gesturing to the book. “I don’t recommend flounces on someone as tall as you. But perhaps a dash of lace somewhere around the bodice, perhaps?”