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Chapter Nine
Jasper stared out of his carriage window, his palm tapping his knee as he scanned the street for Hattie.
For some inexplicable reason, Jasper was nervous. Which was a ludicrous state of affairs when he was a man of the world, when this was just a shopping trip, albeit a clandestine and wholly inappropriate one, and when Hattie was merely a friend. Or at least he assumed that was what she was now that they had reconnected after a couple of years of absence and had talked too much about too many intensely personal things in the last few days to be considered acquaintances. That she was also the off-limits baby sister of one of his oldest friends to boot, doomed their relationship to be platonic for ever if it lasted.
Which it likely wouldn’t once the press learned about his plans for Izzy, put two and two together and made one hundred and five and he became the sort of social pariah whom mothers not only warned their daughters about as he was now, but the sort who also ceased being invited anywhere. At least for however many months or years it took the ton to forgive him for his latest scandal when he had already been the cause of so many.
Yet oddly nervous he was and not at all by the potential ramifications of both of them being discovered, but more because he had never gone shopping with a lady before. Obviously he had accompanied his mother to the market in Battlesbridge as a child but those trips were quite different. They had certainly felt quite different, although why a visit to the shops with Hattie suddenly felt intimate was beyond him. Except it did. And something about it made him as awkward as a green youth flirting with his first girl.
He sensed her before he saw her, and something peculiar happened in his chest. The relief tinged with a lightness and sense of anticipation that was baffling when they were only shopping for practical things for Izzy.
She beamed as he flung open the door. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late.’ He grabbed her hand and hauled her in, then tried to fathom why the flesh on his palms still tingled as he pulled closed the door and snapped the curtains shut. ‘I forgot that my mother had arranged for the modiste to come to the house this morning, so had to suffer being pinned into several new gowns to ensure the perfect fit.’ She sighed as she settled herself on the seat opposite him, looking as pretty as a picture in a bold turquoise muslin with matching ribbons on her straw bonnet which brought out the blue in her eyes. ‘Although why it was all so imperative this morning when the Season has barely started, and we girls already have our wardrobes stuffed with new gowns is a mystery to me. But you know my mother.’
‘I do and I adore her.’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ As the carriage lurched forward, it made one fat golden curl poking out of her hat bounce against her cheek and Jasper had to resist the urge to reach out and touch it—which was worrying. ‘But talking of measurements, do you have Izzy’s?’
‘About thirty different measurements to be exact.’ Before he had left Lady Bulphan’s, Hattie had given him strict instructions to have Mrs Mimms measure her thoroughly, so he produced the piece of paper and held it up for her to read. ‘Because my detail-obsessed housekeeper decided to measure everything from the length of Izzy’s arms to the circumference of her head.’
She shot him one of her exasperated looks as she snatched the list out of his fingers. ‘I knew Mrs Mimms would do a more thorough job than you were capable of.’ She folded it back up and tucked it into her reticule, then snapped her fingers. ‘And the other list? The terrifying one which had you reaching for the brandy?’
‘Ha. Very funny.’ But he produced that one too and waited while she scanned it. As she reached the end she pulled a face.
‘I fear this all might take more than one trip, Jasper.’ Which was surprisingly, and more worryingly, all right with him. ‘Let’s focus on the main priorities today. The absolute essentials.’
‘Which are?’ Because he was damned if he knew.
‘Well for a start, some suitable furniture for her bedchamber and her nursery.’
‘A nursery? I have to furnish two rooms?’
Her exasperation seemed genuine this time. ‘Of course you do! One room to sleep in and another to play and do her lessons in.’ She gestured to the comfortable luxury of his carriage. ‘It is not as if you haven’t got empty rooms aplenty and can’t afford it.’
‘It has nothing to do with the money and everything to do with the shock of needing a nursery.’ Just the word nursery shifted his world further sideways. Changed his fancy house on Russell Square for ever from a busy bachelor’s sanctuary to a family home. Except his family, like his entire life he supposed, was destined to be unconventional. To cover how much that paradigm shift affected him he shrugged. ‘I did warn you I was clueless about this whole parenting business.’
She smiled at that to let him off, perhaps because he hadn’t hidden how his new responsibilities overwhelmed him so. ‘I am not much better. The only experience of children that I have is the month of working with sick and damaged ones at the infirmary, but between us I am sure we will work it all out.’ The ‘we’ warmed his soul. ‘From my covert enquiries, it would seem that there is a cabinet maker on Old Jewry which specialises in children’s furniture. We can start there.’
‘We?’ Good grief he loved the ‘we’. ‘Is it sensible for us to go to the same shop together?’
‘As it’s off the beaten track, I doubt it will be a problem. Besides, I fear you are so clueless, Izzy will end up with a crib and high chair if I leave it to you.’
Gladstone’s smelled of sawdust and beeswax. Jasper introduced himself properly, which made perfect sense when anything they ordered would be going to his house on Russell Square, but he blinked in panic as he turned to introduce her to the white-haired cabinet maker the shop was named after. They hadn’t thought to rehearse any appropriate excuse for her presence in the carriage. They had been too busy chatting about everything and nothing.
‘And I am Lady Harriet... Beaufort.’ She suppressed her own wince which came from using his surname, only partly because she too had panicked at being caught on the hop. The other part was because it sounded presumptuous, coming out so smoothly and with such determination it might appear to Jasper that she had been practising using his name. Which of course she hadn’t—at least not consciously—although now that she had used it, she couldn’t help thinking how well it fitted. ‘His cousin.’ She pasted a smile on her face as the man bowed politely, oblivious of the amused face her companion pulled behind his back.
‘Yes—my dear spinster cousin Hattie volunteered to help me while my wife is incapacitated.’ He shot her the most sinful and naughty look. ‘With nothing better to do with her time than watch the marching of it, she jumped at the opportunity.’ He offered the cabinet maker his most serious but pitying man-to-man expression. ‘She doesn’t get out much.’ The wretch was enjoying himself far too much.
‘Oh, dear,’ said Mr Gladstone, ‘Your wife has nothing serious, I hope?’
That question puzzled Jasper who paused for a moment too long, allowing Hattie to get some revenge. ‘To be frank, Mr Gladstone, the poor woman is at her wits’ end and has taken to her bed—yet again—as it is not easy being married to my annoying cousin.’
‘Ah...’ Now the poor cabinet maker had no clue how to respond but he recovered quickly. ‘How may I help you today?’
‘We need some furniture.’ Jasper was stating the obvious when this was the fellow’s stock-in-trade.
‘Quite a bit and in a hurry, Mr Gladstone. Suitable for a child soon to be five.’ Who was supposed to be protected from the world for the next few months, so she thought on her feet to keep this secret. ‘Our cousin, who lives in the country, has fallen on hard times and cannot afford to redecorate her nursery and what she has is rapidly becoming too small.’
‘Yes.’ Mr Gladstone nodded. ‘Children grow.’
