Free Lord Nick's Folly by Emily Hendrickson Page B

carriage with smart confidence.
    Miss Herbert placed her hand in his with obvious reluctance. He noted she wore exquisitely mended white cotton gloves. Her hand trembled slightly, and he wondered why. Surely she did not believe he would think ill of her for having mended gloves! He was too well aware of the circumstances of her family to censure her for that. He could only admire her poise in the face of something that must cause her chagrin.
    Mrs. Coxmoor swanned into the shop with the assurance worthy of a duchess. Mr. Binch—Nick assumed that must be the chap—bowed to her with considerable deference. Well, that wasn't surprising. She could probably buy the entire town of Mansfield and not notice a loss.
    "Good morning, Mr. Binch. I require some silk threads, blue, mostly. And my grandniece wants some of your finest silks and muslins. I intend to have Mrs. Rankin make up some dresses for her." She proceeded to a case where the packets of silk thread were to be found, but not before she had a chance to hand Nick the sketch of the dead man.
    Nick waited until the array of silk and muslin fabrics had captivated Miss Herbert before he motioned to the shopkeeper. Offering the drawing to him, he asked if the face seemed familiar.
    "Aye, it does somewhat, although I cannot recall why. I know I have seen someone who had those looks. Searching for a gentleman, are you?"
    Nick ignored the curiosity in his voice and eyes. "That I am, or someone who recalls seeing him." He would give no particulars. How could he come out and say he hunted for relatives of a dead man killed with his own golf club? That might bring an interesting reaction, but hardly the one he desired.
    "I will be staying in the area for a time with Mrs. Coxmoor. Should you think of anyone who looks similar to this drawing, I would appreciate it if you could get word to me."
    "Now if you were to leave that drawing with me, I might be able to reflect a bit, have it come to me."
    Nick wasn't about to let his original drawing out of his hands again. "Tell you what, I'll make a copy and leave it with you as soon as I can."
    The fellow looked disappointed, but not for long.
    The widow found the silk thread she wanted, then moved to where bolts of fabric were arranged.
    Nick sauntered over to join the ladies.
    Miss Herbert appeared on the verge of objecting to the purchase Mrs. Coxmoor had in mind. "I do not require so many gowns, ma'am. Half a dozen!"
    "Lord Nicholas, indulge me with your opinion. I say this blue silk, that lilac India muslin, the cherry-striped percale, and I believe the blue-spotted muslin. Perhaps some of the fine white satin as well. What do you say, my lord?"
    Nick glanced at the embarrassed Miss Herbert and barely suppressed a grin. "My sister-in-law favors white muslin for morning wear. Why not add a length of this . . . What do you call this?" he asked the proprietor, gesturing to a bolt of pale pinkish fabric.
    "That is our finest blush-colored sarcenet, my lord," Mr. Binch replied in an obsequious manner.
    "The very thing, sir." Mrs. Coxmoor gestured to the stack. "We shall have lengths of them all, Mr. Binch."
    While she oversaw the cutting of each length, checking for any flaws in the fabrics. Miss Herbert motioned Nick to the other side of the large shop. Suspecting he was in for a scold, Nick suppressed a grin and followed her.
    "Lord Nicholas, I do not approve of such extravagance. You did not have to abet her!" She sounded like his nanny.
    "But, my fair one, she wanted me to do just that."
    "I am not your fair one!" she insisted with a flash of her very fine blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with indignation.
    He was tempted to tweak the curl that peeked out from under her chip bonnet. He enjoyed teasing her. She was such a responsive woman. He couldn't help but wonder what she would be like in his arms. He suspected the blushing that so often cursed fair-skinned blondes concealed a passionate nature.
    "I am glad I suggested that sarcenet.