Page 25 of For The Love Of A Widow

She averted her eyes, conflicted by her colliding emotions.

For the past several months, she’d been in deep mourning for Gregory. Though it had taken only a day back in London for her emotions to betray her, and for thoughts of Daniel and their past to take over.

Certainly, Daniel was a handsome lord, but she had no right to notice. Her heart should not flutter at the sight of him. Her pulse should never quicken at the mere thought of his embrace. It was the ultimate disloyalty to Gregory and the love they’d shared.

The modiste, with her helper fast behind her, reentered the room, pulling the curtain shut and blessedly blocking Daniel from view. Lettie’s cheeks reddened with shame at her lapse.

“Lady Colette,” the modiste said, rushing forward with a bolt of fine velvet draped over her arm, proudly displaying it to her. “This just arrived yesterday. While it is not black or dark grey, I think it would suit in case you have occasion to wear it.”

Lettie reached out her hand, tentatively caressing the soft velvet. The material was so dark it almost appeared black, yet is was midnight blue. How the color was achieved was beyond Lettie’s comprehension.

“It is beautiful,” she sighed. “But, truly, I have no use for a gown made of such a fine velvet.”

“Your mother sent word that I must prepare at least one gown in a hue besides black and grey. If I displease the duchess, she will refuse my tab.” She pushed the material closer for Lettie to inspect. “It is of the highest quality, my lady.”

Lettie glanced from the velvet to the modiste and back again. How to explain the quality wasn’t what caused her hesitation? It was the indulgence of purchasing a gown of such worth. Soldiers slept on the ground with nothing but their worn coat for warmth. Women who devoted their lives to their husbands and military service suffered a lack of food, heat, and shelter. She’d even assisted with the birth of a babe in camp before journeying to Waterloo. All those people suffered while Lettie was making trivial decisions about accepting a gown of crushed velvet or insisting on dresses made from less fashionable fabrics such as jacquard.

She glanced at the small pile of muslin she’d already selected for several gowns, and then down at the fine black frock she wore before turning back to the modiste.

The older woman’s eyes pleaded with Lettie to accept the velvet.

With a groan, Lettie nodded.

“Wonderful, my lady,” the modiste said, handing the velvet to her assistant and mumbling a few quick orders. “I think that will be sufficient. Patterns and materials have been designated. I will have this gown altered and delivered by this evening with the rest to follow within the week.”

“Do take your time,” Lettie argued. “I am in no need of the gowns for some time still.”

“It is no trouble.” With a reassuring smile, she continued. “It only needs to be taken in at the waist and the hem raised. It should take no more than an hour to accomplish.”

“You are too kind.” Lettie glanced back at the mirror. This was the first new gown she’d had in over four years. “You do fine work.”

“Thank you, my lady.” The woman’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. “If there is nothing more you need, I will assist you out of this dress and help you back into your own gown.”

The modiste’s nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned the back of her new gown, careful not to disturb the pins placed for taking in the waist.

Within moments, Lettie was again wearing the gown she’d arrived in as she collected her bonnet and handbag.

“Is there anything else I can have made?”

“I think two bonnets to match the gowns. If it is not too much trouble.” The modiste was the first person she’d encountered in London who hadn’t winced at the sight of her shortened locks. “Nothing fancy, mind you, but something until my hair grows a bit. Oh, and gloves. I am in desperate need of gloves.”

“There is no need to explain.” The modiste gave her a pitying smile and patted her arm. “I will send the bonnets and gloves with the gowns.”

“Thank you, again.” Lettie securely tied the string on her bonnet under her chin and made her way to the front of the store where Daniel still waited.

When she entered, he jumped to his feet and set the newspaper he’d been reading aside. “Are you ready to depart?”

Several hours in a woman’s clothing shop would likely put any man on edge.

“I am finished.” Lettie retrieved her lone pair of gloves from her handbag and slipped them on. “Thank you again for escorting me. It would have been a trying afternoon with my mother.”

“It is my pleasure, Lady Lettie.” He held out his arm.

With a confident smile, Lettie set her hand in the crook of his arm.

The door swung open before Daniel reached for it, and a man walked in, his auburn hair catching the late-afternoon light. Lettie caught sight of Daniel’s carriage waiting at the curb beyond, and suddenly, she was exhausted. She could walk for hours with a heavy pack on her back or work three days straight tending the wounded; however, a few hours being fitted for new gowns had withdrawn all the energy from her.

“Danny Boy!” the man shouted with a chuckle. Daniel’s arm tensed, and he halted but made no move to turn and face the man who’d entered the shop. “I can’t believe my eyes. It is you!”