A Fashionable Affair by Caroline Linden

Author:Caroline Linden [Linden, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: historical romance
Publisher: Caroline Linden
Published: 2017-06-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Felicity took a deep breath as they stepped into Percival & Condell’s draper’s shop, grateful for the moment to regain her poise. She must have lost her mind, telling the Earl of Carmarthen that his wardrobe lacked anything. Everything he wore was of fine fabric, well cut and expertly made. His outfit today had cost a very handsome sum, even though it was all in dark, somber shades.

And while she thought nothing of teasing her brother over an unfortunate choice of waistcoat, it was a very different thing to stare boldly and wantonly at the earl’s figure. She could find no fault there, from his broad shoulders to his trim waist and strong legs. Her mother would smack her if she’d seen how Felicity had studied Carmarthen’s trousers—which fit very, very well indeed.

But when she looked at his face, trying to save herself, she only felt more keenly aware of how handsome he was, from the loose locks of dark hair that regularly tempted her to comb her fingers through, to the brilliant blue of his eyes. Felicity had blue eyes herself; she had never thought blue a particularly arresting eye color. But the earl’s were different, almost aqua-colored, like the sea on a fine day. And when he asked if they could be friends, and offered to beat up any man who bothered her, Felicity feared she would forget herself entirely and succumb to the spell of his voice and the temptation lurking in his gaze...

She took another deep breath. Theirs was a business relationship—a friendly one, but one that would end as soon as their bargain was fulfilled. She needed to remember that while His Lordship escorted her around town, offering his arm and laughing when she was impertinent.

“May I help you?” A clerk approached, his head angled in question.

“We require some color,” said the earl. “Or rather, I do.”

Felicity flushed crimson. “Fine wool,” she said quickly. “Shades of blue and green. Also damask and satins, nothing elaborate or fussy, but elegant.”

“Yes, madam.” The clerk headed behind his counter and began studying the bolts of fabric on the shelves that lined the walls.

“Elegant,” murmured the earl as they followed. “Thank you for adding that. For a moment I had the most dreadful vision of a waistcoat embroidered with chickens or cabbage roses.”

She smiled. “I would never suggest that. Everything in fashion must be chosen with the wearer’s image in mind: Is he stern? Regal? Fun-loving and a bit rebellious?” The clerk laid three bolts of wool on the counter. “Not this,” Felicity told him, dismissing one immediately. “What about that cerulean wool?” The clerk took it from the shelf and added it to her pile. She stripped off one glove and ran her hand over it. “No, the weave is too coarse. Do you have anything else similarly shaded, but finer?”

For the next several minutes she kept the clerk busy, running around the shop finding different fabrics as the bolts piled up in front of her. Carmarthen leaned against the counter and watched in amused silence, his arms folded.

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