Page 16 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“Nothing Society would care to remember,” he finally muttered, and before Baker could press, he added, “But since I must make my return, I might as well do it somewhere I still have a chance.” He met Baker’s gaze and forced a smile. “When can you introduce me to Lord Blackstone?”

* * *

The bell above the door chimed as Felicity and Daphne stepped into Keller’s Fine Stationery & Engraving, the warm scent of ink, pressed paper, and beeswax polish greeting them like an old friend. The shop was small but elegant, refined and respectable, with high shelves stacked with bound ledgers, writing folios, and reams of paper in every shade from crisp white to a deep blue.

A clerk in a modest coat and dark blue waistcoat looked up from a glass counter where he was arranging gilt-edged invitations. He gave them a practiced bow. “Good afternoon, ladies. How may I be of service?”

Daphne glanced at Felicity for reassurance, and she gave her niece a small nod. They had discussed this errand at length before leaving Briarwood, and Felicity wanted Daphne to feel a sense of ownership over her preparations. It would also give her greater confidence, to speak to shopkeepers herself. It would not be long before she would have to impress much greater personages.

“I wish to order calling cards,” Daphne said, her voice carefully composed but bright with repressed excitement. “On the account of Colonel Halstead.”

“Ah, yes. We received a letter from his agent yesterday.” The clerk perked up considerably upon understanding who would pay their bill. He had seemed polite before, but now he wore a rather warm smile.

“We will also need stationery,” Felicity added smoothly. “A lady requires the proper materials for correspondence, after all.”

“Of course,” the clerk said, stepping from behind the counter. “Would you care to browse our selection of papers? We have a variety of finishes—smooth vellum, woven, laid⁠—”

“Oh!” Daphne’s eyes lit up as she drifted toward a polished wooden case displaying thick paper stock in shades of ivory, pearl, and pale blue. She ran a gloved fingertip over the embossed edges of a soft pink sheet, a touch of longing in her expression—an expression Felicity had not seen in weeks. “This is lovely. What do you think of this one, Aunt?”

Felicity followed her gaze. The paper was delicate and charming, suited for a young woman with romantic sensibilities…but not exactly practical for formal occasions.

“It is very pretty,” she agreed, keeping her tone neutral. “But it may be best to select something more traditional for formal correspondence. You want to make a refined first impression, not a frivolous one.”

Daphne hesitated, then turned toward the clerk. “What is the most common choice for a young lady to send letters?”

The man folded his hands behind his back, considering. “Cream or ivory, miss. They are the most elegant and timeless. But younger ladies who prefer a touch of charm favor a refined pink.”

Daphne’s brow furrowed, clear indecision flickering across her face.

Felicity softened. She remembered what it was like to be seventeen, caught between youthful fancies and the rigid expectations of the world. Her fancies had never been indulged by her parents. They had always insisted on practicality over sentimentality. Besides, it was not as though she had been in Society recently; perhaps habits had changed. Perhaps a little frivolity for her niece was no bad thing.

Which made her feel somewhat guilty as she said, “Perhaps a set of each? The pink for private notes to friends, the cream for formal correspondence?”

Daphne’s face brightened. “That is an excellent idea!”

“Very well, then,” Felicity said, turning to the enthusiastic clerk. “We will require a selection of writing paper in both shades. We will also need a set of calling cards in each as well—engraved, of course—with Miss Price’s name and direction. A set of fountain pens, ideally engraved with her name, and a set of pencils, too. And a blotter. And an inkwell set. And some ink.”

Well, if the Colonel was in earnest about establishing Daphne for the Season she deserved…

The clerk smiled. “A fine choice, miss. And what will you require for yourself?”

Felicity hesitated a moment before giving a polite but firm shake of her head. She had no need for calling cards—she was not in Society, nor did she have many acquaintances outside of those who already knew where to find her. Besides, it was not her life that Colonel Halstead had agreed to fund. “Only Miss Price today.”

As the clerk made note of the order, the bell above the shop door chimed once more. A tall, stately woman swept into the shop, her gown of deep blue silk rustling as she moved. A maid followed behind her, carrying on her arm a small reticule and an ivory fan.

Felicity instinctively straightened, recognizing the quiet air of importance that a lady of high standing exuded as naturally as breathing. Daphne, still flipping through paper samples, hadn’t yet noticed the newcomer.

But Felicity had a feeling this woman had already noticed them.

The newly arrived lady glanced around the shop, taking in the shelves, the clerk, and finally, Felicity and Daphne. There was no immediate smile, no recognition, merely a calculated sweep of the eyes, the sort of look a seasoned Society matron gave when assessing the worth of her surroundings.

But Felicity recognized the Countess of Kendal immediately.

The lady moved forward, her posture effortlessly regal, her dark blue silk gown skimming the polished wooden floor. A string of pearls lay at her throat, her gloves pristine, her bonnet framing a face which had once been undoubtedly beautiful, now retaining beauty but refined with age and experience.

Daphne, oblivious for a moment, continued sorting through the samples.

The lady’s gaze lingered on her, then shifted briefly to Felicity.