Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(36)
He was turning to the door when a flicker of golden hair made him stop and stare up the hill at the slender figure walking away from him. He caught the glimpse of a veil as she turned her head to speak to the woman beside her, a maid from her clothing, but the back of her hair showed under her hat, guinea-gold in the sunlight. Surely not Sophie, on foot, in the City? No lady walked there in the heart of the business district.
Cal set off after her, cursing under his breath as slower pedestrians got in his way. She crossed the road, continued up, then stopped and seem to consult a paper in her hand. Then she turned left and vanished. He broke through into a gap in the throng, took the turn into a quieter street and glanced up. Ave Maria Lane.
And there was Sophie, studying her piece of paper again, unmistakeable now he was close.
‘Sophie! Miss Wilmott.’
She spun round then took a step back. ‘Your Grace.’
A few passers-by stared. The maid curtseyed. Cal doffed his hat. ‘Sophie, what on earth are you doing here?’
He couldn’t see her face properly behind the fine black net, but he heard the ‘Um…’ perfectly clearly.
‘Does you mama know you are walking about in the City?’
‘Er… No.’
‘Then what are you doing?’
‘I don’t want to tell you,’ she said with disarming frankness.
‘That is perfectly obvious.’ He should probably be annoyed, he was certainly suspicious, although quite what of, he wasn’t sure. ‘But I think you had better.’
‘I need to buy you a wedding present,’ she stated with an abrupt wave of her hand towards the shop they were standing outside.
Cal stepped across and looked in the window at an array of canes, walking sticks, riding crops and assorted leather goods. ‘Ah. That is very thoughtful of you. But you should not be out on the street in this area. Surely there are suitable shops in St James and Mayfair?’
‘Yes, but I was told that the things here are as good, but not so expensive, so I thought I could find you something nicer than if I was shopping there,’ she explained earnestly.
Damn, I’ve embarrassed her. He was so used to having enough money for whatever he wanted that it hadn’t occurred to him that his betrothed might want to buy him a gift and not be able to afford something she thought would be fit for a duke.
‘You do not have to spend money on me. Look, Sophie, let me find a hackney to take you back.’
‘No, thank you.’ Now he had hurt her feelings. Double damn. ‘I will go in this shop and when I have finished in this street then I promise we will take a cab straight home.’ She lifted her veil and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘And you can’t come in too because that will spoil the surprise.’ Sophie paused on the threshold of the shop, kissed her fingers to him and disappeared inside.
Minx. He was going to enjoy being married to Sophie. Cal considered waiting for her, making certain she found a hackney quickly, then shook his head and went back down Ludgate Hill. She had her maid with her and she was not fresh from the schoolroom. He doubted she’d appreciate him hanging about as though he didn’t trust her.
Cal pushed open the door to Rundell, Bridge and Rundell. That was one thing he could be certain of with this wife. He could trust Sophie. He was certain. Almost certain.
Chapter Eleven - Where The Duke Has His Suspicions
Cal vanished from sight and Sophie let out a woosh of breath. What on earth would she have done if the shop had proved to be a wig maker’s or a ladies corsetiere, or even a seller of dubious prints?
‘May I help you, madam?’ The assistant emerged from behind the counter and brought forward a chair for Sophie.
‘Thank you, no. I was actually… Yes. Yes, you may help me. I need a present for a gentleman, one who can afford whatever he likes, so it must be something original, rather than simply expensive, if you understand.’ If she bought Cal a gift here it would mean she was not a liar and it would give him time to get clear. Unless he was lurking, not trusting her to do as she promised. ‘Mary, please go and see if the gentleman has gone. Discreetly now. This is a surprise,’ she explained to the assistant who was looking at her somewhat askance.
‘Of course, madam. Might I suggest a walking cane? We have some newly arrived with the most interesting heads. You may choose one and be certain it will be unique. I always say a gentleman cannot have too many canes.’ He tittered. ‘Just like a lady and reticules.’
‘Quite. Yes, show me some please.’
By the time Mary had returned to say the coast was clear and Sophie had been through virtually every cane in the shop in revenge for the reticule comment, had made a selection and arranged for it to be delivered, a good half hour had passed. She felt secure enough, with her veil resumed, to knock on the green door two houses along from the shop. Josiah Tanner, Confidential Agent the discreet brass plaque read. It all seemed respectable enough and the soberly-garbed man who opened the door to her inspired the sort of confidence that a solicitor did.
‘Please come in, madam. Do you have an appointment?’
‘No. I did not want to put anything in writing. I can wait if it is not immediately convenient to see me.’ Anything rather than run the risk of bumping into someone she knew again.
‘As it happens I am free for an hour, madam. Will you come through?’