The Madcap Heiress by Emily Hendrickson

Author:Emily Hendrickson [Hendrickson, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2004-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Over a dainty bit of sustenance, Lady Stanwell outlined her plans for the day. To her awed audience of two young ladies, she said that the dressmaker had been sent a message to be ready for them, prepared for a substantial order. Then they were to proceed to the premier shoe and boot-maker of Bath, where they would purchase the neat flat-heeled shoes both desired, at least half a dozen pair each, and order several pairs of half-boots.

“I am reliably informed there are some charming gauzes to be found in a shop on Bath Street, where we may also find the most perfect lace for only twenty shillings an ell.” Lady Stanwell again checked her list.

Emma exchanged a guarded look with Gussie. Of a sudden she realized that her precious quarterly allowance plus what she had not spent from the previous quarter wouldn’t go as far as she hoped.

“I hope neither of you has any silly ideas about stinting on your shopping. Both of you need so many things. The earl will pay for all, and you can settle with him later. You, dear Emma, are woefully lacking in fashionable garments.”

Visibly relieved, Emma said all would be as her ladyship desired. Her father would pay the bills, gladly or not, for he would never want to be beholden to the earl. Gussie’s father had previously made arrangements with the earl.

Rawlinson and Mr. Herbert joined them, with the earl setting aside his copy of the most recent issue of the Bath Herald. The three men settled comfortably into the vacant chairs by the table. The viscount apologized for their tardy arrival, explaining that his valet had been teaching Herbert a new manner of arranging his neckcloth.

Mr. Herbert looked a trifle embarrassed at this attention to his attire, but Emma noted he appeared most handsome this morning. The cravat was a great success from what she could tell—restrained yet refined. She was aware that the different styles had been given names—like the mathematical, Trone d’Amour, and the oriental. She had to confess she didn’t know one from another. To her, a neckcloth was merely a strip of linen that swathed the neck. She knew most gentlemen gave a lot of attention to the style of their cravat, and from what she had seen, some were utterly ridiculous.

“I am greatly in debt to Rawlinson and Hilton for their attempts to create me a fashionable gentleman.” He spoke with gentle irony in his voice, which Emma could not help but admire. He was not a man given to pretensions.

“You look very dashing,” the countess pronounced after a quick perusal of her great-nephew.

There was a comfortable aroma of coffee and warm rolls, bacon, and other breakfast favorites lingering in the room. It was apparent that the men had not been the least impressed by their journey into the elegant town of Bath. Their genial talk was of tailors and waistcoat styles, colors and fabrics, not terribly unlike the women in their quest for fashions.

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