She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.
Proverbs 31:25
“Sophia, why don’t you and Penelope arrange a sitting area so Jasmine and Flora have someplace where they can drape the dresses?” Avalon asked as she straightened the table in the main salon.
Sophia and Penelope immediately started to arrange several brocade chairs in a semicircle. Avalon nodded her approval, then directed the assisting footmen to move a table and chairs to the opposite side of the room.
Jasmine Sinclair and Flora Leona would arrive with the dresses they’d designed and created for the winter party fundraiser. They were the newest members of their small village. Due to their fathers’ early deaths and no other family to take them in, they found themselves in London seeking work. As with many a country miss who hoped to find gainful employment in the city, their opportunities were few. Within a short period of time both women found themselves as prostitutes for a very nefarious bawdy house.
Avalon made her way to a small drum table where she kept the journal that contained all the notes from the previous Ladies Auxiliary meetings, when she heard Penelope’s whisper loud and clear.
“Though I’m not planning on staying in London for the Season, I do want to see the dresses on display.” Penelope patted her hair in a hanging mirror while Sophia moved another chair. Penelope bit her lower lip, then pursed her lips together as if preparing for a kiss. Next, she pinched both cheeks in an effort to bring a blush to the surface.
“Why don’t you want to experience the Season?” Sophia’s bafflement was clear in her voice. “Don’t you want to meet the most eligible men of the ton and pick one out for a husband?”
“There’s only one eligible man for me,” Penelope purred. “I found him right here in Thistledown.”
“Are you referring to Edward Grant?” Sophia asked. “I always thought you carried a tendré for him.”
Penelope shook her head. “No. I have no need for a boy. I want a man.”
“Who is it?” Sophia asked.
By now, their conversation had grown even more discreet, but Avalon could still hear every word.
“The vicar. I expect him to propose any day,” Penelope boasted.
“Mr. Farris has shown interest?”
Avalon found herself stock-still as she waited for Penelope to answer.
“Of course. Every time we meet, he makes an effort to talk to me.” Penelope laughed in a manner that reminded Avalon of all the young women she’d met during her first Season who were confident in their beauty and allure. They were the ones who could charm a man into pledging his troth with little effort. These women possessed a power, almost a sorcery, to make men fall for them.
Something Avalon had never experienced in her life. What that magic must feel like—the ability to have a man see only you in a crowd of hundreds. She let out a breath. Such an idea was a wasted effort. She had too much to do with the remaining days before the Thistledown annual charity soiree. It would be held at Warwyk Hall, and all the proceeds would go toward building a home for women who wanted to escape London and find another way of life. She’d even planned to build an attached nursery of sorts so that their children could be close while the women worked on their lace and dressmaking endeavors. Avalon had already picked out several loving matrons in the village to act as nursemaids during the days. It would be a place that would represent shelter, love, and new beginnings for these women.
While Avalon had never known hunger or cold, she’d experienced the same type of displacement these women had felt. Whatever she could do to ease these women’s burdens, she’d gladly expend time and money for their benefit. Her annual charity soiree was an event that she looked forward to all year. She’d not allow Penelope Rowley to put a damper on her spirits.
Thankfully, the two guests of honor arrived with their beautiful dresses and all the fine accompaniments. As the footmen brought in the trunks of clothes, Jasmine and Flora came to her side.
“Good morning, my lady.” Flora dipped an elegant curtsey. Blond, petite with big blue eyes, Flora was the epitome of an English beauty. Her quiet ways might fool some, but underneath she was a shrewd businesswoman who was comfortable negotiating with the posh retailers of trim as well as the secondhand clothing stalls that lined the London streets during market days.
“Lady Warwyk, we can’t begin to tell you how excited we are. To think that our dresses and hats will be part of your benefit is a dream come true.” Jasmine’s red cheeks glowed with enthusiasm. A beauty with flawless skin, black hair, and startling brown eyes, she’d been a favorite amongst the men. But when one of the girls had died of the pox, Jasmine had begged Flora to escape with her, and they’d gone to Mary.
Mary had contacted Avalon via a letter brought by one of her bodyguards. She’d requested help in getting the women out of London for good. As the Covent Garden Rose, Mary Bolen was one of the undisputed leaders of the demimonde. She was renowned for her negotiating skills. Particularly when paramours were through with a mistress or a long-lasting relationship with a favorite prostitute. Though they didn’t work for Mary directly, Flora and Jasmine had come to her asking for help in leaving such a life behind.
Without hesitation, Avalon had agreed to help as she had done in the past.
The reasons were simple. Compassion for the women, but also as a tribute to Mary.
At the most desperate time of Avalon’s life, Mary had been the only one who’d ever defended and protected her.
Providing a haven had given Avalon a sense of purpose, a calling almost, to help the women. Though their circumstances weren’t the same, Avalon identified with them at some level. Each of them had been forced to sell themselves.
She for a title, but Annie, Flora, and Jasmine had to sell their bodies for money, food, and shelter while subjecting themselves to the risk of disease, illness, and, just as terrifying, abuse.
“My lady, come see what we brought.” Flora took Avalon’s hand and led her to the trunks of dresses. She pulled out a midnight-blue gown that had a black lace netting covering the silk. Throughout the lace, jet-black jewels were sewn. Intermingled with the black jewels, tiny seed pearls were attached like hidden stars in a night sky. The entire ensemble twinkled like the heavens above on a snowy night. The gown was breathtaking.
Jasmine pulled out a gown the color of spring’s first pink peony. The rich satin shimmered like a river kissed by the midday sun. White ermine framed the portrait collar, and the sleeves tapered to the wrist. Any woman who wore this gown would feel like a queen while looking like one.
“These are magnificent. Your skills and creativity make these works of art.” Avalon reverently touched the satin. “How can I ever thank you? These will fetch a high price I’m certain.”
“My lady,” Flora said. “It’s us who should thank you. This is a dream come true. If you hadn’t taken us in…” She took Avalon’s hand in hers and squeezed.
“You’ll have more business than you’ll know what to do with.” Avalon squeezed her hand in turn.
“Then we’ll just bring more girls up to Thistledown, won’t we, my lady?” Jasmine winked.
“Yes, we will,” Avalon answered.
Sophia and Penelope oohed and aahed over a bronze gown with a brocade bodice of green and dark orange design. Matching bronze lace lined the circular-shaped neckline. In the center of the bodice, an antique topaz stomacher brooch lay nestled so that it dangled between the lady’s bosoms. It was decadent, simple, and seductive at the same time.
As Avalon glanced at the treasures the women brought, it looked like she’d stepped into a mantua-maker’s shop on Bond Street. Everywhere she looked, gorgeous gowns, matching satin shoes, and reticules lay draped over the chairs.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sinclair and Miss Leona.”
At the sound, Avalon looked up to see Devan saunter into the room as if he owned it.
He greeted Sophia and Penelope, then finally turned to her. “Good afternoon, Lady Warwyk.”
The slight deepening of his voice on the last syllable made her stand a little taller. For a moment, Avalon thought he’d call her Warlock.
Before she could respond, he continued, “I do hope I’m not late. I think you might have forgotten to mention the time that the auxiliary was to meet. Thankfully, my housekeeper reminded me that it’s every Wednesday at two o’clock.”
The smile on his face could only be described as wicked. “Where is everyone else?”
“They’re not coming today,” Jasmine answered. “Mrs. Marcy isn’t feeling well, and Miss Marcy is attending her.”
“My aunt had to go to London today so she sent me in her place,” Penelope added.
“Shall we sit down?” Avalon waved Jasmine and Flora over to the table where a tea service waited for them.
When Penelope sat, she pulled her chair to the side, practically pushing Sophia away from the table. “Mr. Farris, why don’t you pull up a chair and sit beside me.”
Shocked at the forwardness of the woman’s behavior, Flora whipped her gaze to Jasmine as her eyes grew wide.
Devan lifted a hand to stay all their efforts on his behalf. “There’s plenty of room next to Lady Warwyk. Please don’t trouble yourself.”
He turned that wicked smile to Avalon, and held her gaze a little too long. That man was positively ruthless. In response, she arched one brow as if daring him to come sit by her.
His smile turned brighter, and she knew then that he’d accepted her challenge. With a sigh, she picked up another cup for him as he came to sit by her. She poured the hot tea, then handed it to him.
He accepted it and nodded in thanks. He leaned close and whispered, “You remembered how I prefer it, hot and strong, just like you.”
Her breath caught at the words, and her gaze shot to his. One of his irritating half grins tugged on one side of his mouth, emphasizing the dimple in his cheek. Without a word, she turned her attention to the ladies. Penelope simply stared at her, the look so sharp that for a moment, Avalon felt the prickles of a hundred needles. The young woman’s eyes narrowed, then she turned to Sophia and whispered something. Avalon’s sister nodded without any real interest, then continued her conversation with Jasmine.
Avalon dismissed her unease and sat her cup and saucer on the table in front of her. The ladies immediately quieted.
Avalon smiled. “This year’s event promises to raise more money than we have in the last five years combined.”
Before she could say another word, Penelope piped up. “Vicar, thank you, also for attending. Will you become a regular member?”
“Yes. I plan to follow the practice of my predecessor, Mr. Knightley. He didn’t miss a single meeting.”
Avalon thrummed her fingers on the tabletop as he kept talking. Even in her own home, the man commandeered her authority. Over her dead body would he replace Mr. Knightley, the kindest man she’d ever met.
Devan leaned so close that she could smell his fresh scent, orange and spice probably attributed to his soap. An image of him running that soap over his naked body came to mind—which meant him bathing. How could he fit his long muscular body into a regular slipper tub? He’d stand and reach for linen toweling while the water slowly sluiced from his body, not wanting to let go. His chest would glisten.…
“What’s your opinion, my lady?” His deep baritone surrounded her.
A flash of heat ignited through her body and crept up her neck to her cheeks. She had no idea what he was asking, so she took a sip of tea before looking at him. The smile on his face hinted he knew what she’d been thinking.
“That’s fine.” Immediately, she returned her attention to an apple tart next to her cup.
“What’s fine?” Laughter rumbled in his chest, but he kept it contained. “We were debating what colors to decorate the ballroom. Miss Sinclair likes gold and silver while Miss Rowley thought crimson and plum perfect. I wanted to know your opinion.”
She forced her gaze to his. Ready to offer a stinging rebuke at his teasing, she halted before she uttered one perfectly sharp word. His eyes sparkled, and there was undeniable warmth there. For that scant moment in time, she saw him as someone who could bring laughter and heat into her lonely and cold life. His smile reached deep inside of her. For the first time she could ever remember, she felt like a desirable woman. This was a direct contrast to her usual detachment from all except her family and a few in the community she considered friends.
In answer, she returned his smile. “It’s my opinion”—she waved a hand toward all the beautiful gowns that decorated the sitting room—“that we decide on something that will enhance the beauty of each and every single one of these masterpieces. I vote for the silver and gold decorations.”
“Excellent.” He turned in profile. “Miss Rowley, what if we have hothouse roses and dried lavender set strategically around the room?”
Everything proceeded in an organized manner after that. The guest lists were reviewed, along with the food and drink that Avalon would provide. A trio of musicians from London had been engaged for the soiree. The entire list of auction items was catalogued. Eventually, with her mind on the benefit, Avalon managed to wrestle control over her pounding heart and traitorous emotions.
Soon, the entire group rose to better inspect the dresses.
Penelope studied the rose satin with obvious envy.
“Avalon,” Sophia said in wonder. “If I had my choice in gowns, I’d pick the green velvet with the black satin ribbon trim. Which one would you choose?”
Avalon decided then and there that she’d bid on the dress for her darling sister. It would be a perfect gown for the next holiday season.
“They’re all so beautiful, I have a hard time choosing.”
Sophia nodded before asking Flora a question on where they managed to find such excellent trim for the dresses. As the two started a discussion on seed pearls, Avalon’s attention strayed to the bronze gown that had first caught her attention.
She ran her fingers across the silky texture while she admired the shimmering metallic material and gold thread. The antique brooch caught the light and the facets of the stones twinkled. Calling it beautiful didn’t do the garment justice. It should be housed in the Tower of London with all the royal jewels. Only such finery would complement the masterpiece.
“I wish I had that heiress in my life now. I’m thinking a wealthy aunt would be quite useful.” Devan’s whisky-dark voice caressed her like a lover.
She vowed then and there to fight such thoughts. When she turned around, he stood close beside her as if he were an intimate.
“And why is that?” She took a precautionary step away.
“Because I’d buy that dress for you. I’d like to see you dressed in such finery. You’d be stunning.”
“That would be highly inappropriate,” she answered curtly.
“Inappropriate for whom?” His eyes had a devilish twinkle. “Wouldn’t you like to see men fall to their knees and pledge allegiance to you?”
“Of course. But the question that begs an answer is whether you would?” The words escaped before she could rethink what she was saying.
“I’d be the first, then go to the back of the line to be the very last. Afterward, I’d ask for the honor of a dance and fight off any rivals.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked.
“I thought you’d know, Lady Warlock,” he softly chided. “Didn’t you tell me you could see into the hearts of others?”
When Penelope demanded his attention, he clasped his hands behind his back and strolled away. He turned slightly and winked at her.
The odious man had turned Avalon’s words against her. Why did she lower her guard around him? He was the only man who affected her so. Without hesitating, she decided she’d bid on that dress also. She’d invite him to dinner, so she’d have an excuse to wear it. She’d like to see him in awe of her.
Perhaps then she’d have the upper hand for once in their sparring.
Within the half hour, Devan took his leave to meet Thane at the stables as promised. Sophia escorted Penelope to her room, leaving Flora and Jasmine, who stood beside Avalon.
Flora and Jasmine sighed in displeasure.
“Thank goodness, she’s gone,” Jasmine murmured under her breath.
“Who?” Avalon asked.
“Penelope,” Flora said. “She wants us to make more dresses for her. Though her money is helping us repay you for all the fabric and trim you purchased for us, she’s a nuisance.”
Jasmine nodded. “If I hear how much the vicar loves her and wants to marry her one more time, I think I’ll scream.”
“She said that?” Avalon’s stomach twisted in knots and she smothered a moan.
“Oh, yes. Apparently, he visits the house quite often,” Flora said.
Then, it was true. Devan was interested in Penelope, proving once again that he was nothing more than a big flirt. Before she could ask more, Flora efficiently swept across the room to the bronze gown.
Jasmine waved for Avalon to come with her.
Flora held the gown in two hands and peered over one shoulder of the garment. “My lady, this is for you.”
“What?” Avalon asked incredulously. “You shouldn’t do that. Sell it at the auction.”
“Nonsense.” Jasmine took the gown and held it up to Avalon’s body. “We made it for you, my lady. You’ve given us a new life. At least allow us to give you a gown to celebrate such an occasion.”
“That’s what friends do for one another,” Flora said, then hesitated. “If it’s satisfactory that we consider you our friend?”
“Of course.” Tears welled in Avalon’s eyes. “I’d like nothing better.” A grin tugged at her lips. “However, I’ll not take advantage of friends. I’m paying for the gown.”
The two women beamed in approval.
“All right, then.” Jasmine took Avalon’s hand in hers.
Flora scooted closer and a knowing smile graced her lips. “I know men, my lady. That’s one benefit from working in London. With that knowledge, I think it’s safe to say that a certain vicar might appreciate you wearing such a frock the night of the auction.”
“He’s not interested in me.” She shook her head in denial at such a ridiculous thought. “It’s Penelope.”
“He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time he was here.” Flora smiled knowingly. “We both saw how he leaned close and whispered in your ear. He didn’t do any of that with her.”
“Well, if he’s not interested in you, won’t there be other men at the soiree?” Jasmine asked, then laughed. “Perhaps a mysterious man who’ll sweep you off your feet. Let’s have you try on that dress and see if it needs any alterations.”
Avalon nodded as a fiery heat filled her checks. “I do like mysteries,” she murmured as she tried to put Devan out of her thoughts.