Free Laurie's Painter (sweet Regency romance) by Alice M. Roelke Page B

in the cold
weather, had shocked him more than he cared to admit. Laurie had been
unprepared for the sudden rush of protective feelings and the anger roused in
his chest. It was as though someone was making his Jenny work too
hard—and he knew he had no such claims at all.
    Henry seemed relieved
about the debts being less than he and his sister had originally been told, and
seemed completely without suspicion that Laurie might be involved. Laurie was
relieved to have carried it off so well, with the collusion of a friend at the
bank. Henry's pride would never have allowed him to accept what he must view as
charity.
    When Jenny re-entered the
room carrying tea biscuits and some of the very thinly sliced ham Laurie had
sent for Christmas, her smile was warm and friendly. Laurie thought of those
dainty hands labouring over the ham, and he had to push down a very strong
desire to kiss one of her gloved hands.
    Her gloves. Since he'd
first met her, she'd always worn thin, white gloves when he visited. Now he
knew why; she was ashamed of her hands.
    He finished talking to
Henry, accepted the return of a book he had loaned, and left Henry reluctantly
laughing at one of his jokes. He regretted very much not getting to see Jenny
privately. He hadn't realised how dreadfully he could miss her when he didn't
get to speak to her alone for at least a moment.
    It was a very odd way to
feel, and he thought about it as he left their home and went to do a little
shopping for ladies' gloves.
    ~*~
    "Laurie?" A
familiar voice smote him like the prick of a sharp sword. He froze, a pair of
lavender ladies' gloves in his hands. His heart pounded madly, and for a moment
he wished himself anywhere, anywhere else. What had prompted him to visit this
shop now? And why, why did she have to be here?
    He turned with a forced
smile, and found himself face to face with his old crush, the lovely Althea. She
looked beautiful and elegant as always, very little older than she had at
nineteen. He realized he resented that; couldn't she look careworn? Couldn't
she look as though she regretted her cruelty to him?
    But all he saw was a familiar
smile. She extended a hand and he accepted and bowed over it. "It's lovely
to see you, Mrs. Johnson."
    She laughed. "So
formal. We were neighbours once, or have you forgotten?" Her eyes laughed
at him, not with him the way Jenny's did. "How is your mother,
Laurie?"
    He answered stiffly.
"Quite well, thank you. And your husband?"
    "Fatter than ever,
and with the gout," she answered cheerfully. "It's lovely to see you.
I do wish you the best of luck with the lucky recipient of those gloves." She
nodded faintly towards the forgotten items in his hands, her eyes dancing with
a taunting laugh, and then she moved away with a faint smile that seemed to mock
him even after she was gone.
    He stood there for a
moment, shaken to his core, and then turned away blindly and back to examining the
gloves. She may as well have stuck a knife in his gut and turned it. He'd had
no luck with her, no luck at all; and perhaps he was behaving just as foolishly
with Jenny.
    That mocking smile haunted
him all the way home, through his meal, and into his restless sleep. And in the
end, he didn't have the fortitude to deliver the gloves to Jenny himself. Instead,
he sent an anonymous present by messenger: three pairs of gloves—kid gloves
soft as leather, white lacy gloves delicate and lady-like, and the third pair
lavender-coloured.
    She said nothing to him,
but wore the lace gloves next time he visited. He saw by her shy smile that she
knew they were from him. He smiled in return, feeling a twinkle in his eyes,
and bowed low over her hand, relief filling his chest. She would never mock him
the way Althea could with just a smile. Jenny lacked the coldness; she was too
kind. Jenny was a woman who set scraps out for stray cats, not someone like Althea
who practiced a hard set down. Althea thought nothing of vanquishing a rival at
a crowded party; Jenny