Once the modiste was satisfied that she had all the measurements she required, Pleasant donned her plain gray dress. When she heard the modiste make a sound of regret, she turned around.
“Such a pity you must cover up that gorgeous figure in rough, serviceable cotton garments. But…” Madame grinned. “Mark my words, you will look like a different woman in a Caron gown. I will not send this one to your mother, but rather I shall sew it myself. It will become one of my greatest creations.”
The moment Pleasant returned to the cordwainer’s shop, she intended to speak with him about the cost of the extra items that Madame Caron had added to the list, but he didn’t even ask how the fitting went, only handed her a slip of paper and said curtly, “These take precedence over everything else. It’s a rush order.”
In light of his demeanor, any protests she had instantly withered. She didn’t wish to upset him any more than he already appeared to be. “Of course, Mr. Reed.”
Pleasant immediately walked into the back of the shop and put on her apron. But when she glanced at the special request, a burst of yearning shot through her and she couldn’t help but sigh. The customer had requested a delicate pair of satin slippers with gold embellishments. They sounded lovely, and quite expensive, and she couldn’t help but wonder who would have the pleasure of owning such artwork.
Just once, Pleasant wanted to be able to purchase something as fine, but then, it wasn’t as if she would ever have an occasion to wear them anywhere.
Either way, the order would likely take her two days to complete, with all the intricate beading that was required, but she would devote all her time and energy to finish them in a timely manner and make Mr. Reed, and his shop, proud.
When it was time to close, Mr. Reed joined her to see how she was faring. When he noticed the slippers starting to take shape, he picked them up and examined them carefully. He nodded his head. “Very good work, Miss Hill. I can find no fault with them.”
“Thank you, Mr. Reed.” She appreciated his praise, but she paused, wondering if he might say anything else, for it seemed odd that they should have reverted back to such formality when the day before he had kissed her quite senseless and saved her brother from certain death. But it was as if they had glossed over that part this morning.
Then again, he had asked her to join him for dinner at the earl’s home, so at least that was something.
However, when he didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation, she began to gather her things to leave.
“Miss Hill?”
She paused to face him once more. He walked forward, and she held her breath, her heart beating furiously in her chest. He stopped in front of her and reached out to play with a strand of her hair that was still uncovered. He rubbed the lock between his thumb and forefinger, and then released her. “I never asked you how Connor was faring.”
Pleasant wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t tried to kiss her again, but she nodded and said, “He’s well. In fact, mother couldn’t persuade him to stay home. He insisted on going with Niall to clean chimneys.”
He grinned. “He certainly seems to be a strong one.”
“That he is,” Pleasant agreed.
They looked at each other for several minutes, and then Cornell glanced away. “I suppose you should—”
“Can I ask you something?” Pleasant interrupted.
His gaze shifted back at her. “And what is that?”
“Why don’t you like Lord Haverton?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as if it was something rather difficult for him to talk about. “It’s not that I don’t like him.” He paused. “He’s my half-brother.”
Her eyes widened.
“I’m a bastard, Miss Hill,” he added without any sort of emotion. “The former earl seduced my mother, who was a common house maid. When it was found out she was with child, she was let go from service. We lived in a small village in northern England, near the coast. She died when I was fifteen. After that, I joined the navy until this past summer when I returned to London and opened my shop.”
Pleasant’s heart ached for him. While she had been a legitimate daughter, her mother dying when she was a small child, she could only imagine what he’d had to endure growing up with such a moniker. “It must have been hard for you,” she said quietly. “No wonder you find it difficult to speak with Lord Haverton.”
He didn’t reply.
Without anything else to say, Pleasant offered a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good evening, Mr. Reed.”
Cornell held his breath until she left, and then released it in a rush, shoving a hand through his hair.
In the short time he’d known Pleasant she had befuddled his senses. For all his years on board a ship, Cornell had never stopped to consider anything beyond the present, because with so many battles to fight, he hadn’t been sure he would even make it to see the next day.
When he’d moved back to London, he imagined that same outlook wouldn’t change. He was satisfied with his trade, and he hadn’t wanted anything more than a simple existence, alone, away from the trials of relationships and class distinctions that he’d had to live with all his life. He’d had as much blue blood as some of the men he’d commanded, and yet he was a bastard and entitled to none of the same privileges, not that he had ever asked for anything from the former earl.
In fact, the one time he’d dared to travel to London to meet the previous Lord Haverton after his mother’s death had been enough for Cornell. That brief meeting had told him everything he’d needed to know before the door had been slammed in his fifteen-year-old face, the harsh words, “Just another worthless bastard that should have been killed at birth,” still ringing in his ears.
But now, Cornell could actually see a future beginning to take shape, and it was all due to Pleasant’s influence. She was changing him in more ways than one. Even his outlook toward Xavier was altering. Upon arriving in London, he’d been closed off to the idea of getting to know his half-brother, regardless if he was the last of his living relations. Very few people even knew of his blood tie to the earl, and yet, he’d found it rather easy to tell Pleasant of his origins.
He went upstairs to his rooms and found himself glancing around his sparse furnishings as if for the first time. He realized how empty it appeared, but he had never required much, having grown used to a simple captain’s cabin.
But for some reason, he could easily picture Pleasant flittering about, decorating the space for Christmas with all the greenery he could afford.
And she wouldn’t be wearing that horrible gray dress. He wanted to see her outfitted in a dozen silks and satins, and burn all of the plain clothes that marked her as common, when she was far from it. She was ten times more sincere and genuine than any of those empty-headed twits that he associated with polite society.
He found that he was suddenly anxious for Saturday, if only to see her in the gown he’d ordered from Madame Caron. Just imagining the silk stockings that would be encasing a pair of creamy, shapely legs…
He sighed. It was going to be another long night.
Chapter 7
As Pleasant was getting ready to depart on Friday, Mr. Reed told her that Lord Haverton was kind enough to send his carriage for them on the morrow, and that he would be around to pick her up about eight.
