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“Oh, no!” cut in Robert. “Mrs. Mortimer, promise me that you shall instill some sense into my sister. You are to teach her how to economize. How to find excellent things on a small budget.”

“Oh, no!” Gwen returned. “You cannot add stipulations now. You said you would pay for whatever I bought!”

“And I will, but—”

“So are you game, Mrs. Mortimer? Will you help me spend my brother’s money on the most exquisite items we can find?”

Helaine laughed as she reached for her tea. Indeed, how could she not when both brother and sister were acting so delightful? “Of course. I shall endeavor to find you the most beautiful items at a price that shall not damage the earldom. After all,” she added with a wink to Gwen, “he needs enough funds to buy you the most exquisite wedding present.”

Robert’s groan was comical indeed. Gwen laughed and began itemizing expensive gifts her brother could purchase. Helaine found herself quickly caught up in the siblings’ banter. Soon she was trading quips as easily as them and was eagerly looking forward to the shopping.

It wasn’t until much later that she realized how easily she had been manipulated. She had kept herself apart for the last week in this household. She had maintained her place as neither completely a servant but certainly not one of the masters. And then Robert had come back to London. Less than twelve hours later, she had stayed up most of the night with him, the staff assumed she was his lover, and now she was embarking upon a shopping expedition just as if she were one of the family. She couldn’t be any further from a servant if she’d stepped into the house as Lady Helaine.

So that made her wonder. In another twenty-four hours, just how much more of her life would change?

Chapter 16

Robert hated shopping. He despised it with the passion born of a desk covered in things he ought to be doing. He despised it like he despised standing still for twenty minutes while his tailor measured or pinned or generally annoyed him while he thought of all the things he wasn’t doing. He hated everything about it, and yet he thoroughly enjoyed the day.

He had never been on a shopping expedition with his sister. Not since he was in shortcoats, and what he remembered from that was boredom. Crushing, horrible boredom. So he had never been an adult watching women buy things, listening as they debated fabrics, accessories, or styles. And he had certainly never done it while appreciating the care that went into a female’s appearance.

They actually thought about which colors looked best on their skin, which ribbons would highlight their hair, and whether a reticule with pearls was more feminine than one with lace. And even more bizarre, he actually understood what they were talking about. Not because he cared, but because Helaine was so good at explaining things. With examples.

She spoke in undertones, as was proper, but as they moved from shop to shop, she would explain the tenets of good dressing to Gwen, pointing out those women who succeeded and those who failed. He had never spent more time looking at women in their clothing than he did that day, and he found it fascinating. He also wondered what clothing blunders he had been making every day of his life.

It wasn’t until teatime at Gunter’s that he dared ask the question. And then he got his answer from everyone but the one woman he wanted to ask.

Gwen started. “You have been a fashion blunder all your life, brother dear. But at least Father introduced you to a good tailor.”

“Really, Gwen!” exclaimed her future aunt-in-law. “Your brother is a very handsome man in his own way. You should not say such things. And certainly not in public.”

Robert would have been reassured if it were not for the words “in his own way.” He was about to ask what that meant when the mother-in-law cut in while the sister-in-law giggled into her ice.

“You are just as you ought to be, your lordship. Your aim is to be imposing, severe—”

“Pompous and overbearing,” inserted Gwen.

“Stately,” her mother-in-law corrected firmly.

When it looked like the discussion would degenerate further, Robert set down his teacup with a frown, his gaze trained on Helaine. “Do you agree, Mrs. Mortimer? Do I dress to—”

“Intimidate?” interrupted Gwen. “Yes.”

“Well, future earls should be imposing,” said the mother-in-law. “But it would be nice if you added a little bit of style to all that stateliness.”

Robert raised his eyebrows in shock. “Are you saying I dress without style?”

“Oh, no!” the woman gasped, but lest he feel better about himself, Gwen was there to insert her own set-down.

“You dress boring, brother dear. Imposing, arrogant, and boring.”

“Very boring,” echoed the sister-in-law.

His eyes found Helaine’s. “Really?”

She hedged. “Your style is reserved, my lord. It is your manner that is imposing.”

“And overbearing and—”

“Yes, Gwen. Thank you, but I know your opinion.” He looked down at himself. He wore brown today, a more casual change from his usual black. Plus a cream shirt and cravat beneath a brown waistcoat. He supposed, he realized with some shock, that he must appear rather drab. When he looked up, his gaze caught Helaine’s. “What would you recommend?”

She tilted her head, obviously thinking hard. “A waistcoat with some color.” Gwen opened her mouth to add a comment, but Helaine rushed on, cutting off his sister, thank God. “Nothing outlandish. Just a thread or two of color—red or gold, I think—to relieve the brown. And it should match your cravat, of course.”

“My cravat should match my waistcoat?” He’d always matched it to his shirt.

“Just the contrast color, my lord.”

He nodded as if he understood what that meant.

“And, if I might be so bold…,” she began, obviously hesitating.

This time Gwen would not be denied. “Pray don’t stop now!” she cried. “Not when he’s finally listening!”

Helaine waited, and when he nodded, she continued. “Jewelry, my lord.”

“The devil you say!” he exploded. “I’ll not be a dandy—” His words trailed off as the ladies burst out in giggles. Apparently the idea of him as a dandy was vastly amusing.

Fortunately for his pride, Helaine was not laughing. “A single pin for your cravat will not make you a dandy. The emerald stone looked very handsome.”

He frowned, taking a moment to remember when she had seen his emerald. Oh, the night at the inn. His eyes brightened—as did Helaine’s color—as she rushed on to cover.

“Perhaps you should get a gold design resembling the family crest? Something relatively small, but very unique. It would be stylish without—”

“Making me feel like a trussed-up popinjay?”

She raised her eyebrows, her expression half teasing. His sister was not so restrained and neither were her new in-laws, as those ladies began laughing in earnest. But that didn’t seem to matter. The other women were as noise to him, whereas Helaine’s eyes, her expression, her very being seemed to shine. With laughter, with joy, with everything that was essentially her: strength and delight. Certainly she did not always express her joy, but it was there, peeking out beneath her otherwise restrained demeanor. Delight in who she was and what she was doing. If only life would allow her enough space and breath for her to express herself more fully.

Oh, he wanted to give her that space. He wanted to take away her cares, to lift off her burdens, and to share every moment of the carefree woman that she would become. He wanted it with an ache that burned.

His desires must have shone on his face. It must have been obvious to everyone, because their laughter faded, and the delight in Helaine’s expression became hidden again behind a mask of wariness. He’d done it again, he realized with a start. He’d frightened her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Indeed, he had arranged for this outing just so he could prove to her that they could be together without danger, without damage to her reputation or her business.