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“I need a second—”
“Oh God no,” Isaac cut in. “Which lady’s honor have you insulted now?”
William glared. “If you would let mefinish. I need a second opinion on the stallion I am going to buy to put in the races this season. And I’llhave you know that I have never, and will never, insult a lady’s honor.”
“I still have my reservations about that,” Isaac said, before finishing his coffee. “I’ll go with you out tostud farms, but I am taking my own carriage.”
“Why?” William asked.
“Because I know you, William,” Isaac said. “After we are done with the farm, you will try to persuade me to have luncheon somewhere and then, get a nightcap at White’s or Brooks or wherever and I have little interest in such activity.”
Sagging into his seat, William’s put-off expression told Isaac that his suspicionswere right. Grinning as he had gained the upper-hand, Isaac said, “Exactly, so where are these farms?”
***
The stud farm had been anhourdrive outside of London, situated in a charming town in Essex and its rolling hills. William had taken almost two hours to decide on a Baystallion, sixteen and an inch high with some winnings under its hooves,or adappled gray ofthe same heigh, except this one was a gelding. Thankfully, he had leaned into common sense and purchased the gelding.
Now, after they had parted ways on St. James’ street—with William going to White’s just as Isaac had predicted—Isaac found himself at Mayfair. He wanted to get Louisa a present—but was amiss at what to buy her.
A silk scarf, more hair ornaments, a dress? No-noperfume. It must be perfume. It’s simple and understated.
But where in God’s mercies could he find it? He pushed a store’s door open and was met with rows upon rows of hats—he had walked into a milliner’sshop. Thankfully, it was empty, so he approached the lady at the front.
“Excuse me, Miss?” he asked courteously, “Will you tell me where I can find a bottle of perfume?”
She smiled. “You’ll have to go to D.R. Harris & Co., on St. James’ Street, good sir. And may I give you some advice?Depending on the lady’s temperament, there are two wonderful choices; Albany is a lovely blend of lavender and citrus, while Mayfair hasa sweeter floral fragrance.”
Struck a little by the unexpected help, Isaac nodded.“Thank you. That is immensely helpful.”
“Glad I could help, My Lord,” she smiled.
Isaac did not even bother with correcting her and only tipped his hat. He left and after ordering his driver back to St. James,got into his carriage. It took him almost another half-hour to get back to St. James, and to the store that lady had told him about.
He stepped inside and more than five headsswiveled to him. With practiced ease, Isaac tipped his hat to the ladies, and found the counter. From the corner of his eyes, he saw fans flickering out to hide coy smiles. A man looked up from the counter.
“May I help you, My Lord?”
“Good day, I was told that you carry a few fragrances, Albany and Mayfair I presume?” Isaac said, “And I am Isaac Montagu, Duke of Westwood.”
“My sincerest apologies, Your Grace, but yes we do have those fragrances. Would you like to test either?” the proprietor said. “Both are lovely scents.”
“I don’t think so,” Isaac said, as he was beginning to feel uncomfortable withthe many eyes on him. “I am assured that both are good, so I’ll take one of each.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” the man nodded and went to take two silver flasks off the glass shelves.
He went to wrap them up, and as Isaac reached for his pouch inside his jacket; but just he was about to pullit out, a soft voice stopped his movement cold.
“So, you do have a lady friend,” Helena said from behind him.
Although immediatelycross, Isaac felt his face go stoic and unreadable. Slowly hepulled out the pouch and held in his hand while the man finished wrapping up his purchase. He pivoted a little. “Good day, Miss Follet. Surprising to see you.”
Her browarched slyly. “I think I am the one that should be saying that. I do not believe I have ever seen you at a perfumer before. In fact, I have never seen you anywhere that caters to gentlewomen.”
“There is a first time for everything, Miss Follet,” Isaac replied tonelessly.
“Hm,” Helena said, as she came close enough to brush her arm with his. “This lady? Do I know her?”
“No, you do not,” Isaac said.
