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Jenny glanced up at the figure scrawled next to her name on Bartleby's account chalkboard. Then, with a curt nod, she withdrew a miser bag from her basket and tossed it upon the counter beside him. "This should be more than enough to settle my account. Good day, sir." Raising a brow, she turned her back on him and started for the door.
"Stop! Or by thunder, I swear you'll regret it."
Freezing in place, Jenny could feel her heart pounding beneath her gown. Slowly she turned her eyes toward him, with the wariness of a mouse beneath a hawk's gaze.
"I do apologize, Miss Penny, but you've got something I want, and I mean to have it."
"And what would that be, sirrah?"
"Why, we both know the answer to that, Lady Eros. I want an exclusive to sell your cream in my store."
Jenny forced a hard laugh. "I fear you have me confused with someone else."
"You can stop toying with me, Miss Penny. I have all the proof I require. Proof I shall not hesitate to share with others if you do not accept my terms."
The pounding of Jenny's heart became louder still, and the room began to close in about her. He was going to expose her.
Callum was going to learn the truth. Oh, she couldn't breathe. Her corset felt far too tight. Jenny tugged at her bodice. Dark spots were swirling before her eyes. She had to get out of here.
Gasping, Jenny staggered for the door. "I need air. Please."
Instead, Bartleby raced forward, drew Jenny to a ladder-back chair, and settled her into it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, but I must have some of that cream."
Panting, Jenny rolled her eyes to the left to look at him. "W-why? Why is the cream so... important... to you?"
Mr. Bartleby knelt on one knee and cast his gaze to the floor. "I've had a run of bad luck."
But Jenny hardly heard his words. Over his shoulder, her eyes had focused on a pair of moonstone earbobs. The translucent feldspar caught the light and held it, making the stones glow with brilliant opalescence.
Her mouth went dry as she stared, mouth agape, at the sparkling bobs. She had to have them, but blast, she'd already given every last guinea she had to Bartleby.
Then she suddenly came up with an idea. She whipped her head around and stared hard at him, her breath miraculously restored. "Your financial downfall is hardly my problem." She gave him a shrewd glance. "But... since you seem to have me at a disadvantage, perhaps we can come to some agreement."
Bartleby came to his feet. "Perhaps. Yes, perhaps we can."
"I cannot give you an exclusive, for I employ a rather large sales force. But I have an idea that might make this venture worth both our time."
Twenty minutes later, Jenny nearly skipped from Bartleby's, she was so delighted. Pausing at a shop window, she peered at her reflection and smiled brightly at the moonstone bobs dangling prettily from her ears.
Annie, who'd been waiting outside for her, was confused. "Well, what did he want?"
"Just as we'd guessed, the cream."
"You didn't promise it to him, did you?"
Jenny winced slightly. "He threatened to reveal my ident.i.ty to the newspapers if I didn't allow him to sell the cream, so I made him a deal."
Annie cringed as if she felt the guineas being s.n.a.t.c.hed from her hand. "I am afraid to ask."
"Don't worry. You and the others can still sell to your mistresses and masters. But I must supply Bartleby with ten pots a week."
Clapping a hand to her forehead, Annie began to laugh. "Ten pots? Those will be sold in no time." Her countenance grew serious then. "He'll be wantin' more. And he'll press you until he gets it."
Jenny tapped her index finger to her temple. "When I discussed it with him, I realized it wasn't so much the tingle cream that he wanted, but that he needed to increase the traffic into his store."
"So?"
"So I suggested that he give the pots away."
Annie's eyes bulged in her head. "Are you mad?"
"No, silly. He would give a pot away with any purchase from his top shelf jewel case. Well, he adored the idea, and to show his appreciation, he gifted me a little something from that very case." Jenny flicked one of her earbobs playfully. "Pretty, aren't they? They're moonstone, you know."
"Well, blow me down. You are an original, Jenny, I'll give you that."
"Why thank you, Annie." Jenny took one more glance at her reflection, smiled at it, and turned in the direction of Royal Crescent.
The next morning, Jenny awoke in the thin light of dawn to begin her duties. But when she peered out a window as the clock sounded the ten o'clock hour that morn, the day had still not brightened at all.
The sky was heavy with a ceiling of low dark clouds, and when she retrieved the order basket from outside the kitchen door, the air was so cold it almost hurt her lungs to breathe it.
Still, Jenny held out hope that Lord Argyll would hold true to his promise and escort her to Sydney Gardens that afternoon.
"I think you might want to call off your excursion for today." Lady Let.i.tia looked up from the morning paper. "The last time I saw a sky as gray, snow fell up to my knees."
Jenny smiled back at her and gazed up at the thick sky above. "The clouds are moving quite fast. Perhaps the coming storm will pa.s.s us by."
Lady Viola chuckled. "One can always hope."
For the next few hours the blood coursed through Jenny's veins at an alarming speed, and she felt as though she'd consumed far too many cups of black tea.
As the short hand in the tall case clock neared the four o'clock hour, Jenny opened the kitchen door and peered outside. The air had warmed somewhat, but if it was possible, the sky was darker still, and the puddle at the end of the walk remained solidly frozen.
Her spirits plummeted. For certain, Callum would send word that their private outing was not to be.
Jenny walked into her chamber and began to unfasten the lacings at her back. The new walking gown she wore would not have been appropriate for such a bitter day anyway. But she loathed to remove it.
For some moments, she stood and peered down at it, then turned and glanced over her shoulder at the back. She would have looked smas.h.i.+ng, if she did say so herself. Argyll would not have had one thought about the weather when he saw her in this gown.
The dress itself was deceptively simple for it was made of printed muslin, a cerulean blue spotted with black and bordered flounces of the same material. But between each flounce was an unexpected dart of black brocaded satin ribbon, elevating the dress to the upper reaches of style.
On her bed lay a bonnet of straw-colored gossamer satin, ornamented on the left side with a single full-blown rose of silk and a plume of white feathers. Even her slippers of pale blue kid and her was.h.i.+ng leather gloves were perfectly coordinated.
She so wanted to wear this walking dress for Callum. Jenny sat down on her bed and sulked and wondered if anyone would disapprove if she wore the ensemble while she did her ch.o.r.es this day.
"Jenny," came her mother's voice from the stairwell. "You are wanted above stairs."
"Just a moment. I suppose I must change." Jenny sucked in a deep, disappointed breath and blew it out through her lips.
"Well, hurry, child, Lord Argyll is waiting to take you to Sydney Gardens."
Jenny leapt to her feet and s.n.a.t.c.hed up her bonnet. Excitement surged through her limbs and fingers, making the act of tying her bonnet's ribbon and the lacing of her gown nearly impossible.
Lifting her coordinating cerulean overcoat from the hook on the back of her door, Jenny took the stairs two at a time to meet Callum.
Her heart was thudding as she entered the pa.s.sage and saw him.
A smile lit his eyes and she noticed that even in this freezing weather, he wore a kilt.
She sighed with pleasure, somehow unable to believe it.
Her Highlander had come for her after all.
Chapter Ten.
Sydney Gardens sat regally perched at the end of Great Pulteney Street like a sparkling emerald atop a scepter. It was not such a long way by carriage from Royal Crescent to the Gardens. Had they traveled the distance by foot in such bitter cold, however, Jenny was certain they would have resembled two icicles more than two people.
As she glanced at the frost building on the inside of the carriage window, she wondered if this outing was foolhardy. For no matter how much she had longed to visit with her handsome escort, or to wear her new walking ensemble, the weather was worsening.
It was only a matter of time before the sky opened up and blanketed the city with snow or ice.
"'Tis rather an ominous day fer a stroll, I ken, but I wanted to see ye again, Jenny." Callum rose from the leather bench across from her and settled himself by her side. Heat radiated from him like a coal-filled brazier and she felt warmer now, but no less nervous.
Jenny flattened her hand against the window and held it there until its heat melted a peephole in the thin breath of ice built up on the inside of the window. She looked up at the sky and wanted to groan.
Large heavy flakes were already beginning to fall. Still, the snow suited her purposes well enough. After all, Callum already thought her different from other women. Now was her chance to show him she was not the typical delicate English rose. Far from it. The snow would provide just the opportunity to show him her mettle.
"Oh, the weather's not so bad," she said casually. "Besides, I wore my new walking gown today and what would the Featherton ladies think if I did not even attempt to test its warmth by taking a short stroll?"
Callum's mouth twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Weel, if ye're that intent on trekkin' through the snow, perhaps a wee walk then-just over the cast-iron ca.n.a.l bridge... then back to the carriage before the chill wind makes us as blue as yer gown."
She looked up at him through her lashes and gave him an impish smile, but all the while her mind was wondering just what a Scotsman wore beneath his kilt on a bitter day like this. If the answer was still *nothing,' she had to give the Scots credit, for they were certainly more hearty than their English brothers.
Seeing through Jenny's hand-shaped portal that they had reached Sydney Gardens, Callum rose up and rapped on the carriage's forward wall.
The coachman slowed the conveyance and rolled to a skidding stop right alongside the ice-encrusted Kennet and Avon ca.n.a.l.
Like a s.h.i.+p on a stormy sea, the carriage rocked from side to side as the footman leapt down from atop and opened the carriage door to let down the steps for Jenny and Lord Argyll.
Jenny was first out of the carriage, eager to avail herself of a flattering pose for Callum. The moment her slippers touched the frozen ground she knew her insistence on a short stroll was naught but folly. Still, it would only take a moment or two for Callum to see for himself that she was not some frail society miss, but rather a strong woman-able to withstand the harsh Highland winters without so much as blinking her eyes. At least she hoped it wouldn't take long. As it was, the updrafts were making her colder than a goose sitting on a frozen pond.
As Callum descended the stairs, Jenny glanced down at her feet to gain better footing and saw her overcoat rippling in the wind, displaying its rich gold satin lining. She had to smile. Lud, she looked fantastic in this walking ensemble.
Smiling to herself, she took a turn and let the wind catch the center opening of her coat and lift each side into the air so they flew behind her like two regal banners.
She looked up to be sure Callum was looking at her, when her right foot slid forward, sending her into a deep lunge, as if she were dropping a deep curtsy.
Carefully, she slid her slipper back into place, but a p.r.i.c.kly blend of fear and surprise still pumped mercilessly through her.
As she peered down to make sure no water stains pockmarked her slippers, she saw that under the thin layer of snow was an almost invisible coating of ice. This wasn't good. Why, one false move and she'd end up on her rear, ruining the enchanting image she'd worked so hard to achieve. Best head back for the carriage.
Warily, she started to push her feet forward without lifting them and inviting a fall, but the instant she moved, her slippers started to slide out from beneath her.
Her head swiveled and she glanced behind her.
Oh, G.o.d. She was too near the edge of the ca.n.a.l.
"Callum!"
Flailing her arms in wild circles, Jenny fought to keep her balance. But it was no use-she was falling backward.
The next thing she knew was a feeling of weightlessness and the world seemed to slow around her.
In total disbelief, she saw her feet rising up above her head, and Callum's startled eyes as his hands reached out for her, but came away empty.
She plummeted backward, slamming down upon the ice-skinned surface of the ca.n.a.l. The ice crunched sharply beneath her and she gasped as frigid water rushed around her, then sucked her beneath its surface.
Tumbling with the current, she struggled and battled with everything she had, but it was useless. Her coat and gown, sodden with water, held her under the racing water as surely as if they were made of leaden weights.
Jenny's lungs burned until she could hold the air inside them no longer. Her breath left her in a ma.s.s of brilliant bubbles rising to the surface, and she could do nothing but watch from below in abject horror.
Then quite suddenly everything was black.
"Jenny... Jenny. Open yer eyes, la.s.s."
From the darkness, a low voice coaxed her forward, urged her to leave her woolen coc.o.o.n of ebony. But she didn't want to. She wanted to rest. Still that voice was calling, calling.
'Twas Callum.
At this realization, her eyelids fluttered and opened to an expansive chamber, devoid of light but for a candle on a table beside the bedstead and a hot fire flickering in the hearth.
Her fingers twitched as she awoke more fully, fluttering along the soft edges of the several thick blankets and counterpanes covering her. Flowing white bedclothes framed the ma.s.sive tester she lay upon.
An urgent thought screamed in her mind.
This was not her bed. Not her room. No, it was much too s.p.a.cious. Too grand.
This was all so confusing. What had happened to her? Why was she here?
Where was... "Callum?" Her voice was raspy and raw even to her own ears and she cringed at the sound of it.