“Onefootman?” he joked feebly. “I doubt that will suffice. Besides, I’ve been wanting to shop for a hat and haven’t had the chance. I can’t imagine a more pleasant way to do so than in the company of you two ladies. And as you both can probably tell, I could use a pair of females to help me make sure my new hat will pass muster with the fashionable sort.”
His aunt laughed. “You’ve come to the right place, then. We are both quite good at being fashionable.” She glanced at Gwyn, who wore a day gown as vivid a purple as the sky at sunset. “And I know my daughter would enjoy having your company.”
“But only if you feel up to it.” It was Gwyn’s turn to smirk at him. “I understand you drank a great deal of brandy last night.”
“Gwyn!” her mother said.
“Well, he did. My maid told me so. She had it from your maid, Mama, who had it from Joshua’s valet. So we know it’s true. Servant gossip is always the most reliable.”
“All right, you termagant.” Damn it all to hell, did the entirefamilyknow how he’d spent last evening? Joshua swallowed the last of his coffee and rose. At least he was steadier on his feet than before. “Now you force me to prove I can hold my liquor.”
Gwyn chuckled. And off they went.
With the day so pleasant and Bond Street only two miles from Armitage House, they decided to walk. After a while, he began to feel like himself again, especially with Gwyn’s hand on his arm. As they neared the corner of Hyde Park, a loud clap sounded near them, and Joshua tensed. He probably would have done more if Gwyn hadn’t held on to his right arm with both hands.
It was nothing, of course—a workman who’d started pounding a piece of ironwork into place with a large hammer—but it left him shaken enough to wonder how he would have reacted if Gwyn hadn’t been next to him.
“Thank you,” he bit out under his breath.
“You’re welcome,” she said softly, turning his insides to putty.
Or perhaps that was just the lingering effects of being cropsick. Regardless, he was careful to watch for Malet as they walked. Nor did he relax his vigilance once they began shopping. Whenever Gwyn separated from her mother, he made sure to go with Gwyn; the footman always went with Aunt Lydia anyway.
Oddly enough, his story for why he had to shop with them proved useful. He actually did need a hat, and the ladies were eager to help him find one: a handsome beaver top hat he could wear whenever he didn’t wear one of his uniforms . . . or his old clothes as a gamekeeper. It certainly looked better than the one of rabbit felt he’d been donning.
What’s more, Gwyn insisted that he charge his purchase to Thornstock’s account. While her mother was examining the straw hats for ladies, Gwyn murmured, “If not for Thorn, you wouldn’t even have needed a tale for why you must shop with us. Let him pay. He can well afford it.”
“You merely wish to get some of your own back on him by spending his money.”
Her eyes twinkled. “That, too.”
“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll tell him to take it out of my pay.”
She huffed out a breath. “You suck the fun out of everything.”
“I can think of a few things I didn’t suck the fun out of for you last night.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely pink that made him wish he had the right to kiss her in the middle of a hatter’s shop.
Damnation. Best not to think of that.
The next shop they went to was a glover’s. “I shall see if they have any gloves for ladies doing archery,” Gwyn said. “You ought to get better gloves yourself, Joshua. The ones you had a few days ago were showing signs of wear.”
With a nod, he went over to the counter where men’s gloves were laid out, but he watched her furtively while he pretended to look at them. She appeared agitated and kept glancing up at the clock on the wall.
Her mother said she was heading to a shop across the street in search of a new watch for Thorn, and that seemed to relieve Gwyn, which only made Joshua pay more attention. But subtly. If she was expecting a note from Malet or, worse yet, expecting the man himself, Joshua wanted her to continue with her plans so he could actually catch him in the act.
He had just finished paying for a pair of gloves in Yorkshire tan when he noticed her drape her shawl oh-so-casually over a chair tucked away in a corner, where it wouldn’t easily be seen by the clerk.
Joshua was fairly certain it wasn’t accidental. But was it a signal of some kind? If so, he couldn’t figure out what. When Gwyn said she was ready to go and made no move to pick up the shawl, heknewit meant something. But it was better to keep quiet and see what happened.
With a thank-you to the clerk, Joshua thrust his new gloves into his greatcoat. Then he and Gwyn walked out to the street and found her mother and the footman waiting for them. The four of them were halfway down that block, when Gwyn said, “Oh, Mama, we should have ices at Gunter’s. It’s right down here.”
“Ices, my dear? Truly? I still find it a bit chilly for that, don’t you?”
“Balderdash,” Gwyn said. “I’ve heard they have a new elderflower flavor, and I know how much you like elderflower wine, Mama.”
“Well,” her mother said, “now that you mention it . . .”
