Chapter 10

Lucien knew there was only one way to approach this expedition: wholeheartedly.

'Why are you slumped down with your hat over your face?' Rosalie demanded.

'Don't want to be seen,' Lucien mumbled. 'Put your veil down.' Oh lord, now they were driving past one of his clubs.

'I do not have a veil. Are you ashamed of me? Because if you are, we are going straight home—'

'No, I am not, but if I am seen in this rig in Town, I'll never live it down.'

To his amazement she collapsed in whoops of laughter. 'Oh, poor Lucien! Never mind, we will be in the shop soon.'

She was still hiccupping faintly as they passed St Paul's and Lucien sat up again. The laughter was infectious. It wasn't the giggles that he had so wanted to avoid, it was something less self-conscious, warmer, as if he was being let into her feelings. It had never occurred to him that he might want that intimacy, but it felt good.

Lucien grinned back, then saw where they were. 'Ratcliffe Highway.' He took the pistols from his pockets and checked they were at half cock.

'Lucien!'

'This area is notorious,' he said.

Rosalie sat still as a mouse, watching him with wide eyes, until the carriage bounced from the dock road into the market gardens and Lucien sat back. 'There is no need to look so worried, I would have protected you.'

'I wasn't worried for a moment.' She beamed at him. 'That was so… My goodness, if I was a novel reader I would think all my dreams had come true.'

'Poppycock.' Still, her admiration felt good.

The shop, when they reached them, were not what he had initially expected.

'Come on, Lord Friar,' she called.

Lucien followed reluctantly. When Rosalie opened the door, he was greeted with the faint fragrance —lavender, fresh air and something indefinably Rosalie. The shop might be small but it's simple and yet elegant décor is welcoming and provides warmth to whomever walks in. There were mannequins close to the glass window dress in what he assumes where designed and made by Rosalie. He walked closer and saw right away that the display not only showcase her dress making skills but also her heart. For the passerby that walk pass the window, what they will see is a well dress family. It's amazing how she made it look like the man suit was holding onto the shoulder of the girl's dress while the long dress was closely attached to the boy's trouser

'Talented and smart. Is there anything you can't do, Lady Rosalie?'

"That's very kind of you to say my lord, but you don't need to feel obliged to…'

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "I meant what I said Lady Rosalie."

She twisted, but not hard enough to break his hold. "You don't like being complimented? I thought women like it when men give them praise."

"I'm not like most women."

He shook his head. "No. You are definitely not." Her open-mouthed stare brought his thoughts around to kissing her again. Frustrated with himself, for he shouldn't want to kiss her, "I meant that as a compliment Rosalie."

The jingle of the bell she'd hung above the front door had Rosalie pushing away from Lucien. As soon as she'd turned a man asked, "That dress in the window, is it for sale?"

"Of course, Major," she answered, noting the emblems on his shoulders. "But it's not a dress, it's a traveling suit."

"All the better," he replied. "I'd like to purchase it for my sister."

Excitement buzzed inside Rosalie. "Oh, would she be available to try it on? I could make any alternations needed."

"I just got back and would like to give the dress as a gift," he said, placing both hands on the waist of the dress form. "I believe this size will be about perfect."

"I do have an adjustment string sewn inside the skirt." Riley unbuttoned the jacket to point out the skirt's draw string.

"This color is almost the shade of my sister's eyes."

Rosalie didn't think love had a sound, but she heard it in this man's voice, and her own longing tore at her. "They must be beautiful."

"They are," he answered. "She is."

Her throat felt thick. "She's a lucky woman to have a brother like you, Major."

"She's all the family I have," he said. "I'd like to take it with me now, please."

"Yes, sir." She had yet to tell him the price, and considering that, she asked, "Will there be anything else? A new slip, petticoat or underskirt?"

"Yes, all the under things needed to make a complete new outfit."

Rosalie about keeled over, but didn't, nor did she squeal with delight.

The man arched an eyebrow as his gaze carefully combed over her in silent judgment. "Pardon me, do you own this shop, miss? Aren't you a little young for this sort of thing?"

Rosalie swallowed. "I'm old enough. I own this shop myself."

The man studied her for a few, earth-trembling moments. It was difficult indeed to maintain her composure while being scrutinized so closely, particularly by a man as good-looking as he. His dark brown eyes swept over her, as though committing her to memory. When her panic began to simmer just below the surface, he squared his jaw and the critical expression eased from his handsome face.

"Would it be okay to bring my sister here?" he asked.

Relief washed over her and she tried not to breathe a noticeable sigh. "But of course. I would love to meet her and perhaps she would also like to see the other dresses we have here."

The young man's eyes widened. "Are you planning on bankrupting me?"

Before Rosalie could answer, the man burst into laughter, and Rosalie's cheeks reddened. Was he mocking her? "Excuse me sir?"

He shrugged, ducking his head boyishly. "My apologies. I've been away and with the company of men for a while now, I am forgetting my manners. Please pardon me."

"Of course we understand Major."

Rosalie kept her smile polite as she turned to Lucien who now stood beside her, his brows furrowed in frustration.

"I am Commander Lucien Friar and this lovely lady is my fiancé Lady Rosalie Matthews."

"Major John Reed." John extended his hand to shake Lucien's hand and bowed to Rosalie. Rosalie was the same height as his sister Jane, who barely reached his shoulder, but there was something prepossessing about her all the same. She had a straightforward way of looking at a man, and though her words were gentle, the fire in her brown eyes spoke of a vivacious spirit.

Although dress simply especially for someone who owns a dress shop, Rosalie's natural beauty stands out. John also sense the spitfire in her that he rather enjoyed. It is just his luck that the woman is already promised to another. The man who is now making it clear that if he so much as talk to her once more he might just find himself engaged in a duel.

"Please have a seat Major while I wrap your purchases," said Rosalie.

xxxxxxxxxx

That was a disaster. She did not dare look at Lucien.

He had been virtually silent all the way back. She had tried apologising and he had been appallingly polite, assuring her she should not give it a moment's thought. It was only his sense of honour that prevented him from calling the betrothal off there and then, she was certain.

'Are you cold? You shivered.' He asked.

'No.'

'Then you will be all right for this evening?' Lucien's valet was trying to peel his coat off.

'This evening?'

'It is Wednesday. Almack's.'

'You will escort me?' Rosalie stared.

'If you feel up to it.'

He couldn't be breaking it off and offering to take her to Almack's all at once. 'Wait a moment, please, Nelly,' she said to the maid who was bundling her towards the bottom step.

Lucien seemed oblivious of the servants around them. 'I believe Joshua is right. You shouldn't be going to the shop anymore.'

'I beg your pardon? I do not think you could have stopped me.' That was not what she should have said. But that was not what she meant and if they were to be married it was important he understand. 'I would not have let you. This is the sort of thing I do, I'm afraid.'

The staff seemed to have melted away as she stood there, praying he was not going to behave like a typical protective man. He regarded her without expression, then he grinned, his teeth startlingly white in his filthy face. 'Good thing I've got a head for competions. Mayes! I need to get these boots off before I go upstairs.'

Rosalie fled to her bedchamber before he saw the tear-tracks down cheeks. Lucien was doing his utmost to accept her interests and to adapt to her behaviour, behaviour that no other man she could think of would tolerate. And she had done virtually nothing to try and be what he must surely want from a wife, someone attractive, conventional, sociable. If Lucien was prepared to make sacrifices for her, then she must make them for him. His willingness to compromise made her love him more. Would he simply accept her own gestures in that direction as his due as a man, or might he see them for what they were?

'Nelly,' she said as she climbed out of the second change of bathwater. 'Please ask Lady Maya to join me.'

Maya arrived when Rosalie was dry, clad in a dressing robe and standing in front of two open clothes presses. 'Did you have a nice day, peaches?'

'It had its moments. Maya, I need your help.'

'Another part of the experimental process?'

'This may be the most difficult.' She was becoming desperate. If Lucien could not find it in him to love her, how was she going to bear it? 'Can you make me look like an Incomparable?'

Her new friend sat down on the bed and went off into peels of laughter. Oh dear. It was going to be that difficult?