Page 71 of The Redemption of the Shrew

“He is always so very constant and kind.”

“That’s what friendship is,” Elspeth said. “Last of all, a lovely posy of heart’s-ease from a certain French nobleman.”

Something tickled her nose. She opened both her eyes this time. Yellow and violet blossoms with tiny, vivid faces smiled at her. Philippe had sent her flowers?

“Along with a sealed note, which I haven’t read, not that I wasn’t tempted, miss. But if a flower ever sent a message, it’s this one.” Ruthlessly, Elspeth pulled the covers down. “Sit up. He must want to apologize!”

Gloriana rubbed her sore eyes. She pushed herself into a sitting position, and Elspeth plumped the pillows behind her and handed her the bouquet.

“I’ve brought your morning chocolate.” She set the tray across Gloriana’s knees. A note addressed to her lay beside the chocolate pot. “I’ll be right back with your wash water.”

The instant the door closed behind the maid, Gloriana snatched up the note. She tore it open with trembling fingers.

Ma belle—

Forgive me, I beseech you. Please drive out with me today.

Ever yours,

Philippe

She clutched the letter to her breast. He hadn’t called her ma belle since that horrid night five years ago. What did he mean by addressing her thus now? As for signing himself ever yours . . .

She got out of bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Red, puffy eyes peered back at her—the consequence of crying herself to sleep. She couldn’t possibly go anywhere today.

~ ~ ~

Never before, when planning to drive with a pretty woman, had Philippe been afflicted with sweaty hands. And sweat under his cravat as well, despite the cool morning. He pulled up his curricle in front of Gloriana’s house, stripped off his driving gloves, and wiped his hands on his breeches. The groom from the livery stables where his chestnuts were kept hopped down and went to the horses’ heads.

Philippe made his way to the door and banged the knocker a little too hard. She hadn’t written to refuse him—but then, he hadn’t given her any time to do so.

Elspeth answered the door. “Oh, sir, what lovely horses!”

Yes, but a shiny curricle and even shinier horses wouldn’t impress Gloriana. He remembered with chagrin that when driving the same equipage he’d given her the cut direct.

“Miss Glow asks me to convey her regrets, but she is feeling poorly today.”

Peste. “I hoped that if we took a drive together it would counteract some of the gossip,” he said. A footman emerged from the area stairs, carrying a huge bouquet of roses. He bowed to Philippe and strode away down the street.

Elspeth wrinkled her nose. “Those were from Lord Hythwick.”

Rage stirred within him. “That cur.”

“Yes, sir. Miss Glow didn’t even bother to look at them. They do smell lovely, but from such a man they shouldn’t. She said to give them to the church.”

“Damnation, I must see her.” It was all he could do not to move the maid aside and stride into the house. “He is a danger to her. Why must she insist on living alone? What he tried once, he may try again.”

“Yes, sir, but you mayn’t come in. Surely you see that. It will only make the gossip worse.”

“I know.” He was about to turn away, when a thought came to him. He’d pondered how to approach this with Gloriana, but her maid would do just as well or better. “A while ago, she wrote telling me she had found a way to search for the Book of Hours. I didn’t believe her—I thought she just wanted to get rid of me—but now I wonder if she was serious. Are you able to enlighten me?”

A flurry of emotions crossed Elspeth’s face. “Not without her permission, sir, except to say that we have indeed found a way.” Her face clouded. “But I’m that worried, sir, that others will suffer if the book disappears from his house.”

“Yes, for Hythwick will suspect the servants. He’s the sort of employer who would see a servant hanged because a precious snuffbox is missing, when actually he’d thrown it at the selfsame servant in a fit of rage.”

Elspeth wrung her hands. “Yes, sir. I’m ever so frightened, sir, for—for all Lord Hythwick’s servants.”

And one in particular? Once again, Philippe remembered the two servants kissing in the darkness at Garrison House—Elspeth and a big fellow. And the next morning, Hythwick’s muscular valet fetching his bloodied master.