“You make it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world.”
“I suppose the ton should be far tamer now that I am married. Prior to our union, mothers and fathers were persistent in trying to wed me to one of their young daughters. The fathers at least had the kindness of also talking business while trying to sell off their children.”
“It could not have been as bad as you say.” Lydia gave him an amused smile.
“You have clearly never had single women fling themselves at you from behind bushes.” He cocked his eyebrow at her. “Hordes of women in small groups whispering and gossiping about each other from across a room. It is worse than ally cats having a standoff.”
“Never mind what they do.” Lydia dismissed him as she flipped through the casual household wears. “It’s what keeps them busy. Better to have their focus on someone else anyway.”
“If only. The one time I took my sisters shopping without renting the space, everyone in the store suddenly went silent when we walked through the door. It was highly disturbing, like the calm before the storm. And then…”
Lydia paused for a moment to look at him. He had an odd look of fear on his face, as if he was reliving the most traumatic event of his life. “What happened?”
He shook off the dazed look and picked up one of the catalogs. “Most of the young ladies were respectful. It’s the mothers that still haunt me.” His Grace leaned back on the sofa and rested his arm behind her, trying to look more relaxed. “Several of the bolder ones tried to introduce themselves by mentioning the large dowries naming of their daughters. The most bold tried to orchestrate her daughter and I alone in the changing room—thankfully, Cora put an end to that.”
“How?”
“She tackled the girl to the ground and announced that we were leaving. Not the most lady like but very much appreciated at the time. Since then, I always book out the store.” Archer shrugged.
For some reason, the thought of all those women throwing themselves at her husband rankled Lydia.
“With such a fine reputation, how could they not fall in your arms?” Lydia smirked.
Lydia broke down when Archer gave her the dirtiest look. He himself, however, could not keep a straight face. Lydia was becoming rather fond of his smile.
“These days I’m left alone, thanks to you. The one advantage of being married is I will never have to thwart another riot of women ever again.”
They shared a look, finally becoming content in each other’s presence.
“Pardon, Your Grace,” a soft voice of a young woman interrupted as she came in and handed Archer another stack of catalogs. “Here is our winter line if you had thoughts of pre-ordering some new clothing for the coming Season.”
“Thank you.” Her husband dismissed the attendant and placed the catalogs in Lydia’s lap, bringing their attention back to the task at hand.
“What do you think of this?” he gestured an illustrated evening gown. She felt the heat of his breath on the back of her ear. Her heart pounded as she became increasingly aware of how close they were.
She looked down as Archer inched closer, pointing to a pale, A-line gown with a gathered heart-shaped neckline. It had short,ruffled sleeves matching the eloquent ruffled trim along the hem of the dress. Lydia especially loved the embossed roses scattered along the skirt’s hem.
“Oh, my,” she said as she took the catalog. “I love it, but where would I wear such a dress to?”
“I can think of quite a few events,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “If not, we can always make our own occasions.”
She glanced up at him, startled by how close they were—his forehead inches from hers. She was nettled against his chest which surprised her. His warm arm that snaked around her shoulders drew her closer. Lydia relaxed into Archer’s warm embrace.
“Thank you, Archer.” Lydia couldn’t express the sheer joy that overwhelmed her. She excitedly hugged the catalog.
“Pick out a few more—as many as you would like,” Archer said enthusiastically. “You deserve that, and so much more.”
Lydia smiled, her heart pounding with excitement at buying new clothes. It was an odd sensation, having someone’s full attention on her and what she wanted. She felt cared for for the first time in a long time.
“Here,” Archer leaped from his chair and sauntered off.
“Archer?” Lydia called.
“One moment.” Lydia was perplexed by her husband’s abruptness.
As quickly as he had disappeared, he reappeared with an attendant who carried with her the store front display dress. A stylish red, low-cut, V-neck ballgown. The front had an elegant column-like design, and a gathered pouf in the back. Its exceptionally long train caused the attendant to hold the dress as high as possible.
“You must try on one dress while we’re here,” Archer commanded.
