Page 98 of A Bloom for a Blacksmith

“You would make and sell the shower baths?” Stella asked.

“Yes. To members of the Worshipful Company of Plumbers,” he said, referring to the livery company that saw to educating and regulating plumbers in the City of London. “They have the means and skills to attach the pipes to our device from a house’s water supply, which are by no means standard. Takes us out of the need to do the installation,” he explained.

Stella grinned at hearing his plans. “So you won’t mind if I have some work done on our house?”

Darius gave a start. “What sort of work?”

She directed her gaze out of the town coach to see Iris and Angus slowly making their way in their direction, the two holding hands. “A few renovations is all. Enlarge the library—”

“I thought you were trying to sell your books,” he countered.

“Oh, I am, but I still have crates of books I wish to keep and no more shelves,” she claimed. “Mr. Miller can make them to match those I already have.”

“Are you thinking to make the entire second floor a library?” he asked.

“Well, I would still have a retiring room up there. I could always have the parlor downstairs. Mayhap combine the room that’s supposed to be a library with the front salon.”

Darius barked a laugh. “Do what you will,” he said. “As long as I have a workshop, a study, a place to eat, and a place to sleep, I’m happy.” He glanced out the window. “Whatever you do, be sure you keep a place for this,” he said, pulling a small rectangular box from his greatcoat pocket.

Stella took it from him, her eyes rounding in surprise. “What…?”

“Open it,” he said.

She lifted the top lid and peeked inside, inhaling sharply at seeing the contents. “It’s perfect,” she breathed, pulling out the blue Roman glass perfume bottle. “It’s almost exactly like the one that broke.”

“I’m only sorry it took so long for me to acquire it,” he said.

“From where did you get it?” she asked, carefully lifting the stopper from the top. The familiar scent of her favorite perfume filled her nostrils.

“Had a bit of assistance from your Italian painters. Seems the Benedetto brothers know someone in Rome, and, well, I didn’t ask for the particulars,” he hedged. “I just paid the bribe.”

She gave him a quelling glance. “And the perfume?” she asked in awe, dabbing a drop onto her wrist before lifting it to her nose. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Her face displayed a look of ecstasy.

“Well, I know the formula, and now so does Floris,” he said, referring to the perfumery on Jermyn Street.

She grinned in delight. “However am I going to thank you?”

Barking a laugh, he said, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Iris appeared at the door, and with an assist from Angus, stepped into the coach. Although Darius expected she would have red-rimmed eyes from crying, she appeared as radiant as she had when they arrived at the bookshop the hour prior.

“Thank you again for bringing us today,” she said, sitting opposite Stella. Angus followed her in, and the driver closed the door. “For doing all of this.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get you home and changed into a still-mourning-appropriate lavender gown, shall we?” Stella commented. “You have an appointment at St. Paul’s in less than an hour.” The coach lurched into motion, headed east.

Iris beamed in delight, and Angus squeezed her gloved hand.

“I’m glad Mr. Jones agreed to let you have the day off,” Darius remarked. “Saturdays are your busiest days, are they not?”

She nodded. “They are, but Mr. Jones said he and his wife would work at the market today, and that they were only going to sell redwood saplings,” she claimed.

Darius gave a start. “Already?” he asked in surprise.

“He brought me ten this past week, and I sold them all the same day,” she said. “They looked quite hearty.”

“How tall were they?” Darius asked.

“About…” She held out her hands to indicate twelve to fifteen inches.