Cold-Hearted Rake (The Ravenels #1)(98)

Helen sighed. “Yes.”

“He’ll kill it within a week,” Kathleen said flatly. “Any of us would.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you give it to him?”

Helen frowned and gestured with her palms up. “I wanted him to have something special.”

“He has thousands of special things from all over the world,” Pandora pointed out.

“Something special from me,” Helen clarified gently, and no one asked her about it after that.

Chapter 30

“I’ve waited a fortnight to see this,” Pandora said in excitement.

Cassandra practically vibrated in the carriage seat beside her. “I’ve waited my entire life.”

As he had promised, Winterborne had arranged for Kathleen and the Ravenel sisters to visit the department store after hours, and allow them to shop for as long as they liked. He had told the saleswomen to leave out their counter displays of items that young women might fancy, such as gloves, hats and pins, and all manner of adornments. The Ravenels would be free to visit any of the eighty-five departments in the store, including the book department, the perfume hall, and the food hall.

“If only Cousin West were with us,” Pandora said wistfully.

West had returned to Eversby Priory after having spent less than a week in London. He had admitted to Kathleen that there was no more novelty left for him in any corner of London. “In the past,” he’d told her, “I did everything worth doing multiple times. Now I can’t stop thinking about all that needs to be done at the estate. It’s the only place where I can actually be of use to someone.”

There had been no concealing his eagerness to head back to Hampshire.

“I miss him too,” Cassandra said.

“Oh, I don’t miss him,” Pandora told her impishly, “I was just thinking that we could buy more things if he were here to help carry the packages.”

“We’ll set aside the items you choose,” Devon said, “and have them sent to Ravenel House tomorrow.”

“I want you both to remember,” Kathleen told the twins, “the pleasure of shopping lasts only until it’s time to settle the bill.”

“But we won’t have to do that,” Pandora pointed out. “All the bills go to Lord Trenear.”

Devon grinned. “I’ll remind you of this conversation when there’s no money left to buy food.”

“Just think, Helen,” Cassandra said brightly, “if you marry Mr. Winterborne, you’ll have the same name as a department store!”

Kathleen knew that the thought held no appeal for Helen, who didn’t desire attention or notoriety in any form. “He hasn’t proposed to Helen yet,” she said evenly.

“He will,” Pandora said confidently. “He’s come to dinner at least three times, and accompanied us to a concert, and let us all sit in his private box. Obviously the courtship is going very well.” Pausing, she added with a touch of sheepishness, “For the rest of the family, at least.”

“He likes Helen,” Cassandra remarked. “I can tell by the way he looks at her. Like a fox ogling a chicken.”

“Cassandra,” Kathleen warned. She glanced at Helen, who was staring down at her gloves.

It was difficult to tell whether the courtship was going well or not. Helen was sphinxlike on the subject of Winterborne, revealing nothing about what they had discussed, or how she felt. So far Kathleen had seen nothing in their interactions to indicate that they actually might like each other.

Kathleen had avoided discussing the subject with Devon, knowing it would lead to another pointless argument. In fact, she hadn’t discussed much of anything with him during the past two weeks. After the family’s morning excursions, Devon usually left to meet with lawyers, accountants, or railway executives, or to attend the House of Lords, which was back in session. He returned late most nights, weary and disinclined to talk after having been sociable all day.

Only to herself could she admit how much she missed their intimacy. She longed for their companionable, amusing conversations, and the easy charm and comfort he had given her. Now he could barely bring himself to meet her gaze. She felt their separateness almost as a physical numbness. It seemed they would never find enjoyment in each other’s company again. Perhaps that was for the best, she thought bleakly. After his coolness to her regarding her possible pregnancy – her monthly courses still hadn’t started – and the way he had deceived her into coming to London merely as a pretext to push Helen together with Winterborne, Kathleen would never trust him again. He was a manipulator and a scoundrel.

The carriage arrived at the mews behind Winterborne’s, where one of the back entrances would allow them to enter the store discreetly. After the footman opened the door and set a movable step on the pavement, Devon helped the young women from the carriage. Kathleen was the last to emerge, taking Devon’s gloved hand as she stepped down, releasing it as soon as possible. Laborers passed through the nearby delivery yard, carrying crates and boxes to the loading dock.

“This way,” Devon said to Kathleen, leading the way toward an arched entrance. The others followed at their heels.

A blue-uniformed doorman opened a large bronze door and tipped his hat. “Welcome to Winterborne’s, my lord. At your service, ladies.” As they passed through the doorway, he handed them each a little booklet in turn. The ivory and blue covers had been stamped with gilt letters that read, “Winterborne’s,” and below that, “Index of Departments.”