‘Indeed, yes, and I will need several hats …’
‘What a pity that this salon produces hats so much more fitting for the older lady,’ Madame said expressionlessly.
‘But …’ Tallie gathered her wits together. So, suddenly she was an embarrassment to Madame: neither a lady nor an employee, but someone who might prove a liability if there was a scandal when she made her début. Society ladies might take exception to the fact that one of Madame d’Aunay’s artisans had the presumption to move above her station.
She glanced towards the door into the workroom. ‘The girls are very busy, Miss Grey,’ the milliner said hurriedly.
‘I am sure they are, Madame.’ Tallie got to her feet. ‘I must thank you for having given me a chance when I needed employment: I will not forget that. Please be assured that I will do nothing to dissuade Lady Parry from continuing to buy hats here.’
She swept out, head held high before she saw whether she was receiving another curtsy or not. When she found herself on the pavement outside the shop she hesitated, unsure which way to turn along the crowded street, unable to think clearly about what she should be doing next.
Anger, sorrow and insecurity fought within her. Was it going to be this difficult with everyone she met in her new life?
‘Miss Grey, good afternoon.’ The cheerful voice at her elbow jerked her back to the present and an awareness that she was still standing on the pavement with passers-by flowing around her.
‘Lord Parry. I do beg your pardon, I was woolgathering.’ Tallie pulled herself together with an effort and managed a smile. William was regarding her with unaffected delight and she was irresistibly reminded of a large retriever puppy. He seemed painfully young and, she suspected, was rapidly reaching the stage when young ladies were proving a mysterious, but irresistible, source of interest.
‘May I escort you anywhere?’
‘No, I thank you, but I was just going to … to walk home.’ She supposed that would be the best thing to do. She hardly felt inclined to go window-shopping in her present distracted frame of mind.
‘I say, that is rather a long walk, isn’t it? Let me call you a hackney carriage.’
‘I … no … thank you. I think I would like the fresh air.’
To her surprise, for in Tallie’s experience youths were often far too self-absorbed to take much notice of anyone else’s emotional state, William shot her a sharp glance, tucked her hand firmly under his elbow and began to steer her towards the end of Berkeley Street.
‘Are you feeling a little out of sorts, Miss Grey? Never mind, I know just the thing.’
‘What, my lord?’ Half-amused despite her battered feelings, Tallie meekly allowed herself to be guided along the crowded pavement.
‘Ice cream. I will take you to Gunter’s and you can have a nice lemon ice and a wafer and a cup of chocolate and you’ll soon feel right as rain.’
Tallie suppressed a smile. Of course, food and the sweeter the better—the answer to distress for every very young person. ‘That is extremely kind of you, my lord.’
They arrived at the fashionable tearooms in a slight lull and found a choice of tables available. ‘Would you like to sit in the window?’ William suggested. ‘There is more to look at.’
And everyone can see us, Tallie thought, allowing herself to be seated. She could hardly feel that her presence in her drab pelisse was adding much lustre to young Lord Parry’s carefully cultivated image. His clothing was immaculate, if a little on the exaggerated side when it came to cut, his hair was ruthlessly pomaded into elegant curls and his neckcloth, although lacking the exquisite folds achieved by a certain gentleman Tallie could think of, was highly creditable.
‘I see you are admiring my neckcloth,’ he confided, dropping his voice.
‘I beg your pardon,’ Tallie said hastily, ‘I had no intention of staring …’
‘Not at all.’ He fairly glowed with pride and Tallie concluded that if his lordship was twenty years old his birthday must have been very recent indeed. ‘My cousin Nick showed me how to tie it. I was trying for a Waterfall and making a complete mull of it, so he taught me this.’
‘You are close to Lord Arndale?’ Tallie enquired, moving her napkin to allow a water ice and a cup of steaming chocolate to be set in front of her.
William became quiet, obviously unused to discussing his feelings. ‘He’s the best of fellows,’ he managed after some thought. ‘Like a brother, only he doesn’t lecture. Leastways, I don’t have a brother, but I hear what the other chaps say and older brothers sound like the very de—are very strict. Always lecturing.’
‘And Lord Arndale does not lecture you?’ Tallie enquired, surprised. It seemed unlikely from what she knew of him that Nick Stangate would tolerate the foolishness of youth.
‘No.’ William took a large spoonful of vanilla ice and paused with it halfway to his mouth. ‘He looks sometimes.’
‘Looks?’
‘Yes, just looks. And then you feel uncomfortable and wonder if whatever you are doing is a good thing. You know?’
‘No, but I can imagine.’ Tallie took a reviving sip of chocolate.
‘You’ll see, once you come and live with us.’
‘Do you mind me moving in, my lord?’ Tallie asked abruptly. This was an unlikely conversation to be having with a very young man who was virtually a stranger to her, but William with his natural confiding friendliness did not appear to find it so.
‘No, of course not. It’ll be like having a sister and Mama is having a wonderful time already. You will call me William, won’t you?’ He ate some more of his ice and demolished his wafer, then, with the frankness that Tallie was beginning to associate with him—so unlike his cousin—said, ‘Are you feeling better now?’
‘I … yes, thank you.’
‘Good. What was wrong?’ Then he blushed scarlet. ‘Lord! I am sorry, it is just that it is so easy talking to you I just didn’t think. Forget I asked.’
Perversely Tallie, who ten minutes ago would have walked on hot coals rather than reveal her wounded feelings, said, ‘No, it is quite all right to ask. I had just had a very difficult conversation with Madame d’Aunay, who used be my employer.’
‘Um?’ William nodded encouragingly. ‘Old tartar, is she?’
‘It isn’t that. She is embarrassed because a day ago I was a milliner and her employee; now she thinks she has to treat me like a lady and is afraid that if I make a scandal it will reflect on her business. I do not think I know what I am any more.’ To her horror a lump appeared in her throat.
‘Oh, I say!’ William whisked out a large pocket handkerchief and, leaning across the table, held it out to her. ‘You aren’t going to cry, are you, Miss Grey …? I feel an absolute clod …’
Tallie ducked her head and shot a rapid glance around the still half-empty room. No one appeared to have noticed them. ‘Thank you, William, I am quite all right, truly. And I’m not going to cry, it is just that I do not know whether I am angry or hurt or what I feel.’
His hand still hovered with the linen, and she put up her own hand to touch his wrist and silently urge him to put the handkerchief away. As she did so a movement outside caught her attention. Lord Arndale was watching them through the glass, one dark brow raised in chilly incredulity.
‘Good afternoon.’ He appeared at their table with what seemed to Tallie to be supernatural speed. Glancing at William’s face, she saw he had turned as red as she knew she had. The pair of them must have presented a perfect picture of