Mayhem in Bath by Sandra Heath

Author:Sandra Heath [Heath, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1999-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Polly’s route to Milsom Street took her past Zuder’s, where the atmosphere of concern and outrage told her Bodkin had paid another overnight visit. He must have seen her note, she thought, yet he hadn’t sought her. It had clearly made no difference at all. He was now quite beyond redemption, she decided, and walked on by, determined to never again bother with brownies.

Milsom Street sloped downhill from George Street toward the abbey and Pump Room, and was lined with shops that were temples of fashion. The pavements were crowded, carriages rattled on the cobbles, and sedan chairs bobbed hither and thither. Street traders called their wares, albeit discreetly, for to bellow the qualities of hot meat pies or the season’s first roast chestnuts would have been most unseemly in such gracious surroundings.

Polly browsed along the shop windows, her mood gradually lightening, but it wasn’t until she came to Miss Pennyfeather’s haberdashery, its doorway draped with stylish English and French tulles, that she espied something she simply had to purchase. The display of fripperies was astounding, but in the midst of it all she espied a small lace day bonnet that was made of exactly the same lace as the collar of one of her gowns. She knew her regret would be eternal if she did not snap it up.

The shop bell tinkled agreeably, and the pleasant smell of leather, cloth, and perfume enveloped her. Miss Pennyfeather’s establishment bulged at the seams with shawls, handkerchiefs, lappets, ribbons, artificial flowers, buttons, buckles, gloves, and parasols; indeed there was said to be a greater choice here than in Piccadilly. A number of other customers were already queuing, because Miss Pennyfeather’s two assistants were ill, and there was only the owner herself to serve. So Polly took up a position at the end of the oak counter and waited patiently for her turn. Her attention was upon the heavily laden shelves and neat little drawers lining the wall behind the counter, so she did not at first recognize anyone else in the shop. It wasn’t until a loud, affected female voice complained about the unendurable wait that Polly glanced along in dismay to see Georgiana and her marquess standing only six feet from her.

Lord Algernon was in his uniform, and Georgiana was superb in a turquoise silk pelisse and matching gown. She wore a wide-brimmed, dark blue hat, around the crown of which a gauze scarf trailed almost to the floor, and the inevitable white curl fell elegantly to her shoulder. A dark blue folded parasol was clasped in her gloved hands, and she resembled one of those serene illustrations from La Belle Assembles, except there was nothing at all serene about her mood. Dominic’s love was clearly more disagreeable than ever this morning, for her lips were turned down pettishly, and she fidgeted with an impatience that was completely out of proportion to the situation. Clearly her overnight hours of stolen passion had not improved her temper, Polly thought, wondering what the unfortunate marquess would have said if he knew of her infidelity.

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