A Lord For The Wallflower Widow. Ann Lethbridge

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      Carrie breathed a sigh of relief.

      ‘But if I am doing a great deal of driving out...’ she turned towards Lord Avery and batted her lashes ‘...then I will need more than one bonnet.’

      Lord Avery nodded. ‘I should say so.’

      ‘Then I will take them both.’

      Carrie snapped her mouth shut. Showing her surprise was not the way to do business. ‘Let me wrap them for you, while you finish your tea.’

      In short order, she had both bonnets wrapped in tissue paper and in their boxes, while Mrs Luttrell drank her tea and chatted with her companion.

      Carrie waited for them to finish their conversation. ‘Where would you like me to send the bill, Mrs Luttrell?’

      She hated the idea that she was not to be paid right away for the purchase, but it was the way the beau monde did their business. Hopefully, Lord Avery could afford such extravagance.

      ‘Send it to my husband,’ Mrs Luttrell said and handed over her card.

      Shocked, Carrie could only stare at her for a second or two.

      Mrs Luttrell didn’t seem to notice her surprise, but Lord Avery had a naughty twinkle in his eye. The wretch. He knew Carrie was shocked all the way to her toes. Her back had gone stiff and her smile had frozen solid on her lips.

      Glancing at the address, she put it in a drawer for safe keeping. As soon as they were gone she would write up the bill and have it sent round to Carlin Place. She could only hope that Mr Luttrell approved of his wife’s purchases while in the company of another man.

      More to the point, what did that make Lord Avery? Her lover? How very shocking. And disappointing...

      ‘Oh, look, Ave, darling, there is another of those pretty fans. It is similar to the one you bought for me.’

      ‘Each one is unique,’ Carrie said, aware her voice was terser than she would have liked. Was she really such a prude? It wouldn’t be the first time she had heard of a man taking an interest in another man’s wife. She had just thought it happened behind closed doors, not flaunted in the faces of respectable people.

      ‘I have received a great many compliments on it, you know.’ Mrs Luttrell stared down into the cabinet. ‘Now I can tell everyone who asks where it was bought.’ She gave Carrie a sharp look. ‘As long as there are no more exactly the same as mine.’

      ‘I will guarantee there is not, Mrs Luttrell,’ Carrie said. ‘Or I will gladly refund your money.’

      The woman nodded in approval. ‘Boggs,’ she called out.

      The maid materialised from behind the curtain. ‘Yes, mum.’

      ‘Pick up the boxes. We are leaving.’

      ‘It is all right, Mimi, dearest,’ Lord Avery said. ‘They are two bulky for Boggs. I’ll carry them.’ He bowed to Carrie. ‘Thank you, Mrs Greystoke. I wish you good day.’

      Mrs Luttrell waved a hand. ‘Yes. Thank you. You can be sure I shall let everyone know where I purchased my hats.’ She frowned. ‘Though it would be better if you had a more fashionable address.’

      They left the shop, making it feel suddenly very empty. Carrie herself felt empty. Surely it was nothing to do with the knowledge she’d gained about Lord Avery? It must be to do with the excitement she’d experienced in making her first real sale.

      Now she had good news to take home. It was such a relief.

      * * *

      ‘How did we do?’ Petra’s voice rose to a squeak.

      Carrie removed her bonnet and gloves in the hall. It must be so hard for the other two waiting at home, wondering if all their hard work had been appreciated. ‘Not too badly for our first week.’ Much to Carrie’s astonishment. ‘We have covered next week’s rent with a little left over for supplies.’

      It was almost four in the afternoon, her back ached from the long drive home and yet she could not help feeling proud.

      Marguerite popped her head around the drawing room door. ‘I thought I heard the cart. Petra, for heaven’s sake let her pass. Carrie, come and sit down and have a cup of tea. You must be worn to the bone.’

      She was, but she was also exhilarated by their success.

      She hung up her spencer, then joined her sisters-in-law in the drawing room. She sank into the most comfortable chair in the room beside the hearth. Bless them, they had saved it for her. She loved having sisters.

      Petra brought her a cup of tea and somehow managed to hold back her questions until Carrie had taken a sip.

      ‘Well?’ Petra exploded.

      ‘We sold two bonnets, a fan, a handkerchief and a posy.

      Petra frowned. ‘Only two bonnets.’

      ‘Two bonnets are better than none,’ Marguerite said, in prosaic tones. Clearly, she was also disappointed. Some of Carrie’s excitement dissipated.

      She forced herself to sound cheerful. ‘I am sure the lady who purchased them will tell her friends and then we will have trouble keeping up with the demand.’

      ‘It is a wonderful start,’ Petra said, clearly trying to hide her doubts. She gazed at the tea tray. ‘Are those shortbread biscuits, Marguerite. Isn’t that a bit extravagant?’

      Her older sister looked embarrassed. ‘I only made a few. We need a treat now and then. And see, I was right. We have good news to celebrate.’

      Petra pointed to the hat box. ‘What is in there.’

      ‘A hat. I removed the decoration for a gentleman who wanted it for a posy.’

      ‘A posy? How very odd,’ Petra said, giving her a sharp look.

      Carrie felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Why would talking about Lord Avery make her blush? ‘I thought so, too. Actually, I think he was intoxicated.’ She’d seen her father and uncle in their cups often enough to recognise when a man was more than a trifle warm. She put up a hand at their shocked expression. ‘He was never impolite, simply a little slurred in his speech.’ As well as wavering on his feet. ‘He said he wanted it for a special lady. At that point, I had sold nothing. Better to sell a bit of trim than nothing at all.’

      ‘Very wise, I should say,’ Marguerite said. She opened the box and drew out the hat. ‘It is easy enough to replace the...’ She raised an eyebrow in question.

      ‘Violets,’ Carrie said. Violets for a special lady indeed. Mrs Luttrell was a very pretty woman. Dainty and delicate, not unlike Carrie’s sisters-in-law. The sort of woman Carrie had always envied. And while Carrie could not approve of Mrs Luttrell’s closeness with Lord Avery, she could certainly understand why she would attract a handsome lord. Perhaps it was difficult for a woman to ignore such a charming man’s attentions and hard for him to ignore such a pretty lady if she was lonely.

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