Heiress in Red Silk Hunter, Madeline (books for 7th graders .TXT) đź“–
Book online «Heiress in Red Silk Hunter, Madeline (books for 7th graders .TXT) 📖». Author Hunter, Madeline
“Can I show Molly?” Lily asked.
“Of course,” Rosamund said.
Lily lifted the mechanical doll. She made another little curtsy and ran off.
“Thank you for bringing that,” Rosamund said. “She will be the envy of every girl at her school when she returns with it.”
“She is charming.”
And then they were there, looking at each other. He had rehearsed all manner of clever things to say, but they deserted him.
The door opened and a woman entered. Another woman came forward from the back to greet her. Both of them glanced in his and Rosamund’s direction.
“Is there someplace we can talk?” he asked.
“There is no privacy here, if that is what you mean. We could take a turn if you like.”
It would have to do. Outside, they fell into step together.
“You did not answer my last letter,” he said.
“I wrote to Minerva. She is the one who is pregnant.”
“Of course. Still—”
She laughed. “Kevin, what was there to write? Two sentences, and all about her.” She smiled broadly and shook her head. “You are a poor correspondent, aren’t you?”
“I like to think of it as being succinct.”
“I understand. Truly. No doubt you were busy thinking about things. Like pipes.”
“I have thought very little about pipes while you were gone.”
“Has the enterprise been keeping you busy instead? That is good to hear.”
He looked down the street. The noise made it hard to talk comfortably, and people kept pushing by. “That is one reason I am here. I need to tell you about it. I have a chamber at the Dark Horse Inn. We wouldn’t have to shout over carriages there.”
She stopped walking and looked at him. He didn’t have to hear her voice the question. He knew what it was. It pained him that she even wondered, but then, they had parted in anger.
“I am not the kind of husband who would demand his rights, Rosamund. I hope you know that much about me.”
She nodded, and they continued on to the inn.
* * *
She had not wondered if he would demand anything. She had wondered if he thought to seduce her. She wasn’t sure she could resist if that happened.
His words reassured her. They walked up to the chamber he had taken. It was a nice one that overlooked the street, not the yard. No horse smells, at least.
A half bottle of wine stood on the table. “Do you want some?” He gestured to it while he moved a chair to join the one already there. “You can sit here, if you want.”
She normally would not drink wine in the afternoon, but right now, it sounded like a good idea. She sat and accepted a small glass of the claret. She noticed his brushes and razor near the wash basin, and a frock coat visible through the wardrobe door that had been left ajar. A stack of papers rested on the bed. Pipe drawings, perhaps.
Time stretched as they silently sat together. She could not resist looking at him, even though memories flooded her that made her heart alternately joyful and sad. This was what she had hoped to avoid—a lifetime of moments like this, when her love expanded just on seeing him, only to pain her when she accepted love had been a foolish error.
“That looks to be a fine shop,” he finally said after drinking his wine.
“I am very proud of it. Even more than the one in London. It was good to see it again.”
He swirled the wine around in his glass, watching it move. “Do you intend to stay here?”
“For a while. I’m enjoying my time with Lily. It has been years since we have been together for more than a few days at a time. We have been growing to know each other again.”
“Should I have followed you?” he asked. “Were you expecting me to?”
How like Kevin. A few pleasantries in a vain effort to be polite, then, abruptly, on to what he really cared about.
“I would not have liked that at all.”
“A different kind of woman might have expected it, but I didn’t think you would.”
“You mean it is something a lady might expect? Common hat makers don’t make games out of such things.”
His gaze reflected she had used his own words to describe herself. “You did not give me the chance to apologize for my behavior that day. You just left.”
“I did not leave because of you. I left because of me.”
“I apologize anyway.”
“We can pretend that you said things you did not mean because you were angry if you want. Only people tend to say exactly what they mean then. The parts they don’t normally speak come out. I don’t blame you for it. I don’t even mind, although pretending would have been easy to do. Only you reminded me of who I am. What I am. Why we married. I needed to live with that a bit, without your distracting me.”
He got up and walked around the bed. “I have something here that I need you to sign. It is one reason why I have now intruded.” He picked up the stack of papers from the bed, then returned to his chair. “It has to do with the enterprise.”
“I gave my half to you. My signature is not needed now.”
“Your attempt to give it to me was not valid. You had no witness. There is no proof you signed it at all. Also, as I recently learned from Mr. Sanders, if you ever do want to sell or give it away, you will be expected to say so in front of a judge before it is binding, lest it be thought I browbeat you into it. The law is suspicious of married women divesting themselves of property, because it might be under coercion.”
“That’s a bother. Did you have Mr. Sanders do it up right? Is that what this is? We’ll find witnesses and start it today.”
“I didn’t think to do that. I need you to sign something else.” He handed her a
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