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one day gown, lightweight plum merino for another, and a sapphire-blue silk for the evening gown. By the time the material had been chosen, Rachel felt positively decadent—and tired.
    “What do you want to do now?” Belinda asked as they stepped out into the gray and chilly afternoon. “Shall we go buy you a new bonnet at the milliner’s?”
    “Lord no!” Rachel stifled a yawn. “Even if I could afford a new bonnet, I haven’t the energy to shop anymore today.”
    Linking her arm through Rachel’s, Belinda pulled her down the street. “Then you can come and watch me shop instead.”
    Rachel wondered if that hadn’t been the plan all along.
    “All right, but then I have to go home.” Rachel didn’t like leaving her mother alone for very long. Even though Sir Henry was out hunting with some of his cronies, there was always the chance he wouldn’t have killed anything that day and would decide that beating her mother was just as satisfying, especially if he’d been drinking.
    “I promise not to stay very long.”
    Rolling her eyes, Rachel allowed herself to be led. Asking Belinda to shop quickly was like asking the sun not to rise. She knew she had at least a few hours before Sir Henry would return home as it was still early afternoon. Besides, she was enjoying this time with her friend.
    Inside the shop, Rachel planned to sit quietly and wait, but Belinda wouldn’t stand for it.
    “Try this one.”
    The bonnet was rose velvet and perfectly matched the cape Rachel wore. She’d made it out of a pair of drapes she’d found in the attic, purchased when Sir Henry had decided to redecorate her mother’s bedchamber three years ago. Her mother hated the color, and for once, Sir Henry had caved in to her wishes. Wearing the cape always made Rachel feel stronger, more confident.
    She shook her head. The bonnet was lovely, and if she tried it on, she’d only want it.
    “Try it on.” The tone of Belinda’s voice brooked no refusal.
    “All right,” Rachel gave in. “But only because you look so ridiculous in that hat.”
    Belinda adjusted the befeathered turban so that it sat straight on her head. “Whatever you do mean?” she demanded with a grin.
    The bonnet did suit, and Rachel took it off as quickly as she had put it on. She couldn’t afford it, but she didn’t want Belinda to see how bothered she was by the fact. Maybe if there was any money left over after she paid for her mother’s divorce and once they were resettled, she’d buy herself a new hat, but for now she had go without.
    “How about this one?” She asked, cramming a chipped-straw bonnet loaded with faux fruit down on her head. The brim stuck out a good four inches around her face, and the fruit was so heavy, her head tilted to the left.
    Belinda clapped her hands together in mock enthusiasm. “I love it!”
    “Personally, I preferred the pink one.”
    Rachel’s stomach fell at the sound of that rich voice. Slowly, she reached up and removed the foolish fruit bonnet from her head. Smoothing her hair with the palm of her hand, she turned.
    “Rose,” was all she could think of to say, as the shop suddenly seemed to shrink around her. How could one person’s presence make a room so much smaller?
    He shook his head, as though he hadn’t heard her right. “I beg your pardon?”
    “The bonnet. It’s rose, not pink.” Clutching a handful of wooden cherries, she curtsied. “Good day, Lord Braven.”
    He raised a brow.
    My, aren’t we the expressive one today. So maybe she wasn’t quite herself. What did he expect after that kiss? Maybe he could pretend it meant nothing, pretend it didn’t happen, but Rachel couldn’t, not when practically every waking moment since had been spent dwelling on it!
    “Good day, Miss Ashton—or do you go by Westhaver now?”
    She’d sooner cut off her own arm. “No. I’ve kept my father’s name.”
    He nodded, as though he should have known. “And good day to you as well, Miss Mayhew.” He