“Your parents will adore him,” Lady Chattaway added before they left Tessa alone.
Tessa couldn’t stand up, so she sat there as clouds moved over the sun outside the window and yellow light in the small chamber dimmed.
Surprising, but when she could stand, she wasn’t trembling. She walked clear across the chamber to the little room off theside outfitted with a narrow bed where her luggage had been left that morning. The walls, though, seemed to be closing in on her, and her clothes were pinching in places they normally didn’t.
What had she come here to do?
Oh. Yes. Change her shoes. She’d been in the garden, looking for Remmy, and though it had not rained in London last night. it had rained at Crossvale. She needed her slippers anyway. The household was supposed to congregate for drinks before dinner.
She changed her gown, too, trying not to think about what she’d do next. She’d always wanted to marry, but Lady Chattaway had taught her the value of independence. Then again, there was no guarantee a new employer would be like Lady Chattaway. And if she married, her parents might at least allow her to write to Verity…
No.No. She was not truly considering it. Only being back here… Her old self seemed waiting to be slipped into like a gown she’d forgotten in the back of a wardrobe.
A gown she’d outgrown.
Her years on the Continent with Lady Chattaway had been some of her happiest. But they had been chosen for her by Remmy’s mother, structured as Lady Chattaway liked them.
She’d been offered a turning point, a chance to make her own choice. She would paint her own future from now on.
With brisk steps, she headed for the large drawing room where all the guests were gathering. She needed to find Remmy and tell him about Brawly and Lady Chattaway. He’d love the bit about the three moles. Imagining him laughing made her feel better. What a delight to see him last night, what a lovely surprise that they had fit back together so perfectly. Just like before.
Mostly. He had changed. When she’d left, he’dbeen a lanky youth, dear and handsome and boyishly charming, slightly awkward, and awkwardly sincere.
Her Remmy.
Now… all awkwardness leeched away, leaving a steely, confident man who prowled through the world with arrogant ease. He possessed the kind of shoulders a woman could rely on as well as appreciate. Boyishness gone, too, from his face, which was now all sharp angles and firm lips. Eyes bluer than the sky and more mesmerizing than she remembered, a gold earring glinting from beneath the dark silk of his too-long hair. But underneath it all, he was still her Remmy.
And she must find him.
The drawing room was overflowing with new arrivals, and Tessa slipped into the crush, looking for her friend.
It seemed everyone else was looking for him, too. He seemed to be at the center of every conversation she passed, and it made her stop. Because the things people were saying about him simply made no sense.
Mr. Remington Ives and…
The Rake Review? What was that?
She stopped near a group of three young women, certainly younger than her, and unmarried. They leaned close to one another, whispering behind fans.
“The May rake was absolutely scandalous.”
“I adored March. No! April! Ohhh, I cannot decide!”
“I personally prefer February.”
“Which one? The Valentine’s Day one or the one with the harem?”
“Doesn’t matter. They’re both devils.”
“Mr. Ives is a delight to look at, is he not? What did the Belle call him? Rough-hewn? Delicious.”
All three women glanced across the room, searching for… Remmy? Not for long. They returned to their huddled conversation.
“I saw him once, at Hyde Park. He has masterful thighs.”
“He’s an excellent horseman.”
“And his hair… it does rather make one think of… tugging on it.”
