And even though, once again, she was looking in on him from afar and couldn’t see the color of his eyes, she would wager all of Lady Bridgewater’s pin money on them being blue.
Blue like the ribbon on the bonnet she’d just purchased.
His mouth moved as he spoke to the shopkeeper, but he never looked away from the carriage. The shopkeeper put her hand on his shoulder again and then the two of them backed behind the shelves until she could no longer see them.
Lucy’s jaw stiffened.
That was her fiancé that the young shopkeeper was touching in such a familiar way. And shouldn’t she be tending to the shop? Why did she need to go with him to the back of the store?
She narrowed her eyes at the space Mr. Harrison had just left. Why was Matthew Harrison, heir to the Bridgewater barony, stacking ribbons and lace on shelves in a milliner’s shop? Matthew Harrison could come home whenever he wanted.
“What are you doing standing there?” Lady Bridgewater’s shrill voice carried easily over the walkway to where Lucy stood. She couldn't move. She couldn’t. She had been at this woman’s beck and call for years while Mr. Harrison was galivanting around this town as a working man.
Was the idea of marriage so terrible to him?
She shook her head. It was her fault, really. Sending Helena to talk to him had been a doltish mistake.
Lucy ignored Lady Bridgewater. She stepped away from the window and walked back into the shop. The shopkeeper had returned to the counter and was inspecting her hair in a small looking glass she kept for customers. Apparently Helena hadn’t been the only person to think Mr. Harrison was handsome.
She set the mirror down. “Did you forget something?”
“No, I remembered something.”
The young woman’s eyebrows went up.
“My father is in need of some help. I couldn’t help but notice the man you had in here. He seemed like the… reliable and steadfast sort.” If the shopkeeper noticed the way she bit out those adjectives, she didn’t say anything.
“You mean our delivery man?”
Lucy nodded. “Who is he?”
The shopkeeper glanced around the room in concern. Lucy needed to calm down a bit or she would create suspicion. The young lady may not have taken note of the almost frantic irony in calling him steadfast, but the urgency of her last question was unmistakable.
Three years, though. How could she remain calm?
Mr. Harrison probably calmly delivered ribbons and feathers to shopkeepers around all sorts of small towns while his family watched for him every time a carriage rolled up the drive or a letter was delivered by the post.
Was delivering goods so diverting that it would keep him from his family and marriage for three years?
Lucy took a deep breath and forced the muscles in her arms and neck to loosen. She wouldn’t get any answers from the shopkeeper if she dug about like an angry bull. “My father is looking for a delivery service. Your man there seemed to take extra care in his work. I thought I might tell my father about him.”
The shopkeeper’s shoulders relaxed. “Mr. Scarper is quite new, actually. He’s only been working in Fenswallow for six months. He took over our last delivery man’s duties when he became too old to keep working.”
The young lady’s eyes went to the back of the store whereMr. Scarpermust have exited. A softness formed around her eyes.
“The name of the company?” Lucy’s teeth gritted again. The only woman whose eyes should go soft when thinking of that man was Lucy. Even if, at the moment, her thoughts weren’t kind toward him.
Lucy had never spoken a word to Mr. Harrison—the young lady had that advantage over her—but he was Lucy’s fiancé, and that was an advantage almost impossible to trump. Even ifMr. Scarperhadn’t seemed to mind the young woman’s hand on his shoulder.
“It isn’t a company, really. Mr. Bennion was the delivery man, and now Mr. Scarper does his deliveries for him.”
“Thank you.” Lucy smiled, though what she really wanted to do was spin around and immediately hire someone to look into this Mr. Bennion. She needed to be careful, though. The last thing she needed was for word to get back to Mr. Harrison that someone was looking for him.
“I’ll let my father know. He may have already found someone, so perhaps it is best if you don’t mention this conversation to Mr. Bennion. The delivery industry isn’t large, and I would hate for there to be any awkwardness if they were to do business together in the future.”
The young lady nodded and seemed to be satisfied. That explanation would have to do. Lucy’s mind was spinning. She had to tell Lord and Lady Bridgewater. They would drag Mr. Harrison home if they had to. Now that he’d been found, the marriage could go forward. Lucy’s time in limbo could finallycome to an end. For all she knew, the two of them could be married in less than a week.
Lucy’s hand shook when she pulled open the shop door. A week. It was like she was living that moment outside the churchyard all over again—catching a glimpse of a man she wassupposedto spend the rest of her life with. Three years of getting used to the idea of marriage should have made it easier, but, a bride? Did she evenwantto be a bride?
