Page 96 of A Foolish Flirtation

Could it be because he had never known this kind of intimacy with a woman before? After all, he could not remember his own mother and it sounded as though relations with his first wife had broken down almost immediately.

“Mr. Wimble seems a nervous sort of man,” she commented, reaching for a comb and making a show of smoothing her hair with it. Lottie had already given her hair a thorough brushing after her bath, so this was mere pretense, but she could not resist, seeing how he leaned forward to watch her efforts.

Tonight, she wore a nightgown trimmed with pale blue ribbon, and a frothy sort of over-robe with a good deal of lace.

“He’s a sensitive sort of chap, Wimble,” Jeremy mused aloud. “Highly strung, rather like a racehorse.”

The slight frown on Emmie’s brow cleared. “Oh, I see. Artistic temperament, I suppose.” She had almost run out of things to do. Casting her eye over her dressing table, she picked up the glass stopper of her lavender water and ran it lightly over her wrists. Jeremy sat up on the bed to watch with interest this new step in proceedings.

“Precisely. Think of him as a second Fernando,” Jeremy suggested. “Speaking of which, shall we crack open your crate of novels tomorrow afternoon? I have not so much as peeked at them yet, and it is certainly high time we choose the next for our book club.”

Emmie’s smile faded. “Pinky is moving out to her cottage tomorrow,” she said quietly.

“So soon?” He frowned. “Surely the smell of paint must still linger throughout.”

Emmie shook her head. “Teddy drove her over there yesterday in his little horse and trap and they said all the windows had been left open, so the remaining fumes were only very faint.”

“All the more reason for us to choose a book before she departs, so she can take a copy with her. Did I tell you I bought them in sets of three?”

Emmie’s eyes widened. “You bought three copies of every book?”

“Certainly, I did. I told you, did I not, that I wanted to start our own book club just for the three of us.”

She was touched. Looking at him in the mirror, she said warmly, “That was a very generous thought, my lord.”

He looked faintly embarrassed by such praise, waving it aside. “We will still have her often here, I am sure. We can send a carriage to collect her and drop her off at any time. You can visit her there whenever you like. There are Teddy’s lessons too.”

Emmie rose from her chair and walked over to the bed, removing her robe and settling herself under the covers. She did not know if he would stay with her tonight or not. She felt unaccustomedly nervous about it. “Did you fix on a schedule for Teddy’s lessons?” she asked.

Jeremy nodded. “Three mornings and two afternoons a week,” he said promptly. “He can have them here or at her cottage, whatever they decide upon.”

“She mentioned inviting us around for tea and cake one afternoon this week.”

Jeremy nodded, then yawned. “Do you mind if I take a nap in here with you?” he asked politely. “I will be sure not to wake you when I take off afterward.”

“Of course not.” She paused, before adding deliberately, “You are most welcome to sleep in here for as long as you like.”

When she woke at midnight to go and change her menstrual cloth, she found him still sleeping soundly beside her. On returning from the bathroom, she half expected to find him gone, but to her surprise he was still there and remained there until seven o’clock the next morning when he went off to his stables.

It proved a wet and rainy day, and after breakfast in the state dining room, Emmie and Pinky retired to her private sitting room to meet with Mr. Penrose for an hour to discuss prospective ideas. This time instead of his sketchbook he brought along a notebook and pencil.

“And have we had any new ideas, Lady Faris?” he asked with a patronizing smile, trying to settle in one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs and wincing over the tight fit. Both Pinky and Emmie had already rejected those, before settling side by side on one of the purple chaise longues. Pinky kept glancing nervously over her shoulder as though afraid she might tumble off without the back support.

“Well, I have been thinking and I like flower gardens,” Emmie said bravely. “Could we possibly use that as inspiration?” Even as she said it, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Mr. Penrose drew in a sharp breath, then cast her a pitying look. He tapped his pencil against the pages of his notebook. “Could you elaborate on what precisely you would like me to achieve through such a theme?” he asked with faint contempt.

“Some semblances of a flourishing garden,” Emmie replied, quite at a loss.

“I fear, my lady, that you lack sufficient vision for this task,” he said with a good deal of condescension.

Emmie felt a twinge of annoyance, but as she had shot down both of his proposals so far, she felt she could hardly ask him for a third suggestion.

At this point, Teddy drifted into the room. “Ah, here you both are,” he said with some indignation. “I’ve been looking everywhere. What are you doing, Mama?” he asked, walking over and leaning against her chair.

“Mr. Penrose and I are trying to decide on the new decoration for this room,” she said brightly.

“Why don’t you just do what my first mama did?” he asked.