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She held her gloved palms over her chest, as if she could protect the gown from her father.
“I do not know.” Rosaline climbed down off the stool, determined to put conversation to an end.
“What do you mean by that?” Alfred crossed back to the counter again, clearly intent on having an answer as he followed her. “Where is she getting her materials from?”
“I do not work in her shop. I do not know, father.”
“This is bad, very bad indeed.”
“It is not bad.” Rosaline was amazed at the volume of her own voice. For a change, Alfred seemed to listen to her, jerking his head in her direction. “It is a good thing that Chloe does. A kind thing. I can buy more dresses like this, father.”
“What would you want with them?” He scoffed. “If it is just to gain the notice of a man like the Earl of Gloucester, then I must remind you that his interest will soon fade. He will treat you as men like him do any woman not a part of the ton, be your friend for a short while, take what he wants, then leave you to it. Make you into a . . .”
Rosaline flinched at the words. Her father recoiled too, as if startled he had uttered so much. He didn’t need to say the words for her to understand exactly what he meant.
He is convinced I will become Lord Gloucester’s mistress.
Rosaline felt a tingling come to her eyes, which prompted her to blink, holding back the tears. She clutched the skirt of her gown, trying not to succumb to the temptation to cry.
“Father, I do not wear the gown only for Lord Gloucester’s sake, but my own. I like it, and I do not see why that is a bad thing. It is no different than you buying yourself a nice waistcoat or a fancy new pocket watch. As for Lord Gloucester . . .” She paused, watching as her father shifted from side to side. “I choose to believe you are wrong.”
She spun on her heel and headed for the door, intending to leave and not revisit this subject again.
“And Miss Green?” Alfred’s words made her hesitate in the doorway. “Will you tell me how she makes these dresses?”
“As I said, I do not know.” Rosaline shook her head, startled by the change in him. “Good day, father. I will leave you to your misery. I hope you realize how much you are overreacting.” Her words seemed to anger him more, but she didn’t give him the chance to answer, she stepped through the door and closed it harshly behind her.
Chapter 17
Leo
Leo ran his hands over the sketchbooks one at a time. He didn’t often come to places that sold art supplies, but today it had felt like an imperative task.
“May I help you to find something, sir?” a kindly man asked, walking up to Leo with a pince-nez balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose.
“I’m looking for a sketchbook,” Leo said carefully.
“Oh, as you can see, we have many of them!” the man gestured to the display they had. “Was the good sir looking for something in particular?”
“Something a little special.” Uncertain what he was looking for, Leo hoped he would instinctively know what Chloe would love. He walked among the displays for a while when he caught sight of something at the far end on the shop’s counter. It was a notebook, bound in leather like much of the others, but it was engraved with golden letters. Leo walked toward it and laid his hand upon it.
In his mind’s eye he could see Chloe standing over her own sketchbook, hurrying to put together her designs. Her original sketchbook was somewhat tattered by now, with pages loose and ready to fall out. Leo didn’t doubt that she would like a new one, and it seemed like the perfect way to thank her for his own gift, especially as he had left so unceremoniously the other day.
“Ah, do you like our engraved notebook?” the shopkeeper asked, and followed Leo to the counter.
“Very much.” His eyes were still on the sketchbook.
“You can pick any book in the shop, and we can have a name printed for you.”
“Yes, I would like that. Thank you.” Leo hurried to select the right book. He was careful in his choice, picking a died leather that was a deep dark red. He could imagine Chloe using such a book. It was much finer than the one she usually used.
“And the name, sir? What shall I have printed on the spine?” the shopkeeper asked, taking the book and walking round the counter.
“Miss Chloe Green.” Leo was aware of the way the shopkeeper looked up at the words and smiled.
“A courtship gift, is it?”
I wish.
