“I don’t mind,” she whispered, looking away abashedly. Lydia tried to focus more on the catalog than his fingers pulling at the loose strains that had fallen out of her updo.
They took their time looking at the rest of the catalogs, picking out evening wear, walking dresses, casual wear, and dresses Lydia needed for working around the house.
“What do think about purchasing one or two of these?” Archer picked up a catalog Lydia wouldn’t have given a second thought to. Riding habits were never something she needed as she had never ridden a horse before.
“Those won’t be necessary,” she stated and tried to turn back to the dresses.
“You do not ride, Duchess?”
“Father had an impending fear I would fall and break my neck, but that’s fine by me. I never took an interest in such things.”
“You only need to say the word, Duchess, and I would be more than happy to teach you how. Riding is quite a pleasurable pastime.”
Lydia snuck one last glance at the catalog, milling over the idea. “Hm…”
“Then we are in agreement,” he immediately started flipping through the pages.
“I never said?—”
“You hesitated. Worry not, Lydia, you are most certainly welcome to change your mind at any time. But,” he flirtatiously whispered in her ear, “just in case you care to join me on a jaunt, we’ll purchase a few habits.”
Lydia’s desire to buy a riding habit increased as Archer started pointing out fetching jackets.
As the day grew long, Lydia procrastinated on one final purchase. She cringed at the thought that she would have to bring up the final catalog she had yet to peruse.
“I’m afraid I will need some new… undergarments.” Lydia blushed at the confession.
Archer looked away, but Lydia noticed his ears turning pink. “Ha, well, you won’t need me for that. I’ll… take a walk while you sort that out.”
Half an hour later, Lydia found what she needed and called out for Mrs. Barkley. The woman mustn’t have gone far as she rushed in the moment the first syllable left Lydia’s lips. Archer followed behind and took a stance next to Lydia.
“Mrs. Barkley,” Archer said, taking charge, “please have this made and ready as soon as possible.” He handed her the bookmarked pages of each catalog. He showed her the dresses they had picked out, and Lydia discreetly showed her the undergarments catalog which seemed to make Archer uncomfortable as he glanced up and around like he was looking for something.
Lydia laughed as she watched him try desperately not to look at the catalog filled with ladies’ corsets and underwear. Mrs. Barkley smiled coyly, and the ladies shared a grin.
“My, my, what a fine taste you have, Your Grace,” Mrs. Barkley said. “Oh, but what do you think of this one?” she pointed at a frilly pair of bloomers. “Do you not think His Grace would appreciate such suggestive ladies’ wear? Many husbands prefer this particular garment for its tightly shape.”
“Hm,” Lydia mocked. “I’m not sure. What do think, Your Grace?”
Archer coughed erratically, causing the women to burst out laughing.
“Very funny,” Archer heaved. “I’ll be waiting in the carriage.”
“I think that’s a yes, Mrs. Barkley,” Lydia called out after Archer.
Archer had provided Mrs. Barkley with the payment, so Lydia followed him out shortly.
He was sitting cross arm and legged when she boarded the carriage, and not once did he look her in the eye as he called for the driver to start their journey home.
Lydia sat in silence, pressing her lips tightly together, trying to hold in the giggles that threatened to bubble up.
She took great pleasure in watching her husband’s discomfort grow, the fierce blush in his cheeks slowly becoming a permanent fixture on his face.
Chapter Eighteen
Business, once again, called Archer away to London, so Lydia had been busying herself around the house, trying to distract herself from the gnawing feelings that threatened to spread through her body. With the help of her new aids—two new maids, Dotty and Lucy, and the new footman, Mr. Young. Together, they had changed the carpets in the grand entrance.
Her goal, which was finally coming together, was to change the carpets and rugs in the Dowager Duchess’ cottage. She knew the place had been allowed to fall into disrepair because of Archer’s feelings for his mother, but she had no desire for it to remain so.
