The Courtesan's Daughter and the Gentleman (The Merry Misfits of Bath 2) - Page 4

“I am sure stranger things have been recorded throughout time.” Addie adjusted the top of her veil with a ring of fresh flowers that Addie’s mother must have had a devil of a time finding at this time of the year.

“Adeline, it’s time to leave for the church, dear.” Mrs. Mallory entered Addie’s room, studying her hands as she pulled on her gloves. She looked up and came to an abrupt halt. The woman’s eyes filled with tears and she raised her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my.”

Lottie felt her own eyes tear up, thinking of her mama, who, while she had certainly not forgiven her, she still missed something dreadful. She longed for her mother in little ways every day. Every time she smelled roses or fresh baked cookies like she and Mama used to eat in the bakery near school. Even though Lottie had spent all those years in France in a private boarding school, Mama had made the strenuous trip to visit her at least twice a month. They would stay in a fine hotel, eat decadent meals, and shop for ribbons, hats, perfumes, and jewelry. They saw the shows and visited the museums and laughed a great deal.

Unable to bear any more hugs and kisses between Addie and her mother, Lottie swiped at her eyes. “Enough of this,” she said, waving her hand around. “I believe it is time for the church.”

The four women made their way downstairs where Addie’s father, Mr. Mallory, and brother, Marcus, waited to escort the ladies to the church.

“What a bevy of beauties,” Marcus said as he made his bow to the ladies.

Lottie immediately froze at the man’s words. A quick look in his direction assured her that he was not looking directly at her, but at his sister. Lottie let out the breath she’d been holding. She’d been nervous when she and Pamela had first been introduced to the young Mr. Mallory, but he didn’t seem to know her, much to her relief.

She would be happy when this wedding was over, and she and Pamela were on the rail back to Bath.

They all trooped down to the two carriages to carry them to the church. Lord Berkshire had loaned one of his rented carriages so they could all travel at the same time to St. Paul’s Cathedral where the wedding would take place.

The time passed quickly, and the ceremony was lovely. Lottie tried very hard not to wish for things she would never have. She was truly happy for her friend and was looking forward to helping her out by minding her store while she took her wedding trip and dealt with a legal problem involving her new stepson.

Lottie and Pamela had been taking turns running Addie’s bookstore while Addie had been in London with Lord Berkshire. Lottie managed to take several shifts in addition to the work she did teaching young girls every week on the finer parts of being a lady. She tried not to laugh every time she thought of that term and how fast her student’s parents would pull their daughters out of her lessons if they ever found out about her mother. They wouldn’t be able to get their daughters far enough away from her.

But Lottie’s years of training at the exclusive school she attended in France gave her the knowledge and confidence to take young girls under her wing and teach them dance, manners, watercolors, polite conversation, embroidery, and all the other things their parents wanted them to know before they were launched into Society.

The attendees at the wedding ceremony were joined by about fifty other guests for the wedding breakfast at Mr. and Mrs. Mallory’s townhouse. Lottie was seated between Lord Berkshire’s elderly uncle, Mr. Filbert, and the man who acted as witness for Lord Berkshire, his friend and business partner, Mr. Carter Westbrooke.

Mr. Filbert was slightly deaf and charming, trying his best to keep up a conversation even though she suspected he missed just about every other word. On the other hand, Mr. Westbrooke made her extremely nervous.

He was young, not deaf, but unquestionably charming. And quite handsome. His black as night wavy hair fell in loose curls around his head. As startling as his hair was, his blue eyes were of a shade so deep she had not seen it before.

Mr. Westbrooke was the sort of man who gave his entire attention to the person he was speaking with, making them feel as if they were the most important person in the room. His eyes were riveted on her face when he looked at her, and she felt as though he looked at her far too much.

He was dressed quite fashionably in charcoal gray trousers, a silver and blue waistcoat with a crisp white shirt, black ascot tie, and a fine wool jacket in black.

“So, Miss Danvers, the new Lady Berkshire tells me you have been friends with her ever since she moved to Bath.”

“Yes.” She picked up her fork and continued to eat, staring at her plate. If any of her students saw her, they would be aghast. She gave several lectures on polite conversation at balls, dinner parties, and other social events. Every rule she gave them was slowly but surely being broken by their teacher.

“Do you live with your family in Bath?” Mr. Westbrooke took a sip of his wine and continued to look in her direction.

Be polite. This is your best friend’s wedding.

“No.” She wished the blasted wedding breakfast over. So far no one had approached her to see if she was Mrs. Danforth’s daughter. In fact, no one even gave her more than a glance. Except for Mr. Westbrooke.

The man in question was apparently not daunted by her abrupt—and very impolite—answer. He continued, “I don’t remember seeing you about town.”

She sucked in a breath in horror. “Do you live in Bath, Mr. Westbrooke?”

Please say no.

“I do. I have a legal practice in Bath where I run my various businesses as well. Lord Berkshire and I are long-time friends. We attended Harrow together.”

“How very nice.”

Blast it.

Avoiding men had been her strategy from the time she had fled London and made her home in Bath. She did not want to have anything to do with someone who might have spent time in her mother’s bed. Just the thought made her stomach cramp. Since she had no way of knowing who Mama’s clients had been over the years, it was best to avoid all men.

“Lady Berkshire also said you and Lady Pamela, have been running her store since she’s been in London. That is quite nice of you.”

Tags: Callie Hutton The Merry Misfits of Bath Historical
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