Free A Worthy Wife by Bárbara Metzger Page A

time, either. But they did remind the earl that they were expected all the way across the City. “Confound it, we’ll be late if we don’t hurry. Morris, add her ladyship’s purchase to my bill, and send the lot to the Grand Hotel.” He tucked the small Italian Madonna under his arm and led Aurora out to where Ned was waiting with the curricle.
    “All right ’n tight, m’lord. I walked ’em just like you said.”
    “Good lad. We’ll have to see about fitting you with a suit of livery.”
    Ned’s thin chest swelled with pride. So did Aurora’s. “Thank you, Kenyon,” she said when Ned had scrambled up behind and they were under way again. “That’s a better present than anything you could have bought me.”
    “What did I buy you, actually? I’m sorry I got so caught up in the artwork. I have been looking to add to the family’s collection of paintings for years, without finding much of interest.”
    “I understand. I get that way in bookstores.” She wound the music box to show him how it worked, but he could only spare a glance, since they were in traffic.
    “That trumpery bit is what I bought you for a bride gift?”
    “Actually you bought it for Aunt Thisbe. I thought it would go nicely with the butterfly collection.”
    “Thunderation, you must think me the worst kind of nip-cheese. Blister it, I meant to buy you something pretty this morning. A new wedding ring, at least. Now there’s no time to get to the jeweler’s.”
    “I don’t mind, truly. I like wearing my mother’s ring. I have so little of hers, you see, not even many memories.”
    As hard as it was to credit that a female was content with an insignificant gold band, Kenyon had to believe those guileless blue eyes. Still feeling guilty, though, he vowed to send for the Windham diamonds before another day had past. His loving first wife had financed her elopement to France with all of the other family pieces, but she’d left the diamonds at least. His sister had worn them for her come-out. Aurora should wear them for her introduction to the ton .
    Meanwhile, he leaned back and called to Ned, “Bonnets. Where can I find bonnets in a hurry?”
    “But there’s no time, Kenyon, and I have two new hats already,” she protested.
    His grimace was opinion enough of her headgear. The yellow ruched affair she wore yesterday had made her look like a dandelion, and today’s was a blue coal scuttle. “Master Needles?”
    “Left at the corner, guv, then straight for ten blocks. Mam’selle Marie will…will suffice.”
    His lordship’s lips were twitching at Ned’s quick study, but he asked, “A Frenchwoman?” After Genevieve, the entire breed was suspect.
    “Mary Maloney. She be as French as Yorkshire puddin’, Earl. But the gentry morts come down heavy for Frog legs.”
    “Frog legs?” Aurora thought of her uncle’s beloved batrachians.
    “He means the ladies will pay more for the cachet of French fashions.”
    “That’s right, m’lord. Mary gets good cash for spoutin’ a few mercies and wees.”
    “Merci s and oui s,” Aurora said, correcting him.
    “That’s what I said. Turn here, m’lord, and down that alley. Mary can’t afford no street front rent, but she matches the styles of them what does.” He hopped down to take the horses’ leads. “You tell her Needles sent you, and that ’er ladyship is aces wiff me.”
    Aurora didn’t need a translation. “Why, thank you, Ned.”
    She didn’t need three new bonnets, either, but she got them, nevertheless. “The Countess of Windham cannot be seen in the same hat every day,” her husband declared. Besides, he was having fun. Picking out bonnets was not nearly as exciting as selecting Lady Anstruther-Jones’s gift, but Kenyon was finding a challenge in creating his own masterpiece. Some brims shielded Aurora’s fine, high cheekbones; some ribbons clashed with her eyes; a few permitted too many gold curls to show, which might tempt a man into touching them. His