a pitiful creature he was. He did not even seem capable of understanding what it was he had lost.
From the safer side of her door, she peered out through the beveled glass to see the elegant black carriage already gone. She was glad he had not chosen to escort her into the house, for she wished to be shed of him as quickly as she might.
She wondered if there was a human being alive besides Reggie who actually loved the man, and decided it was unlikely.
Chapter Eight
"Are you quite all right, Miss Englefield?" Cargill asked. Alarm shone in his eyes as he took the bonnet she thrust into his hands.
"Quite so, Cargill. Thank you." Chloe cast about for her aunt and saw the drawing room door standing open.
"You have another caller, I'm afraid, Miss Englefield."
And not one Cargill had hoped to see, she surmised. She questioned him with her eyes.
"Mr. Rafferty, ma'am. The draper."
Rafferty was more than just a draper. He had arranged for the collection of slightly used furniture and just about everything that had gone into making this shabby town house presentable.
"Duns already?"
Cargill nodded ominously. "Possibly, yes, miss."
"Well, I should rather have all my troubles come in one day and be done with them for a bit," she replied. But she suspected such things were more likely to keep piling up. Chloe squared her shoulders and walked into the drawing room with her hands clasped properly before her.
"Good morning, Mr. Rafferty," she said.
Rafferty was a n ordinary sort of fellow for his age, tending slightly to fat, dressed all in a heavy brown wool. Deep wrinkles from sitting creased both his coat and trousers. "Good morning, Miss Englefield," he said with a proper tradesman-like bow, guilt edging his nervous face. "I have just been conversing with your aunt."
"As I see. Have you something new for us? Perhaps the blue draperies I requested? As you can see, the facings are badly faded."
"Ah, yes," he replied, nodding and bowing all at once, with hands held at his waist as if he clasped a hat in them. "No, Miss Englefield, I have nothing that will do, yet. Of course, I might surely find something, but there is that matter of the bill..."
Chloe's teeth clenched. He wo uld not dare make mention of it if she were a man. "It has not been above two months, Mr. Rafferty, and you have received some payment. I am surprised you bring up the matter."
His lightly balding head bobbed repeatedly in such a way that caused Chloe to wonder if the man had some unusual sort of twitch. "Of course, Miss Englefield, but the bill is, well, quite large. And there is the matter of your additional order. But I am afraid, of course, well, something must be paid first. Surely you understand a man must make a living, and if there are other items to be found for you, well, I must pay the merchants who find them for me, you understand. I am afraid, of course, if something is not settled on the account, well, I am very much afraid I will have to, well, do something."
Irritation twitched on her lips, but she managed a thin smile. "And what would that be, Mr. Rafferty?"
"Well, I should have to take things back, of course. But there is wear and tear to consider, too, of course."
She had no trouble interpreting his words. He would take back all she had bought, but she would still owe him money. She suspected it would be a considerable amount. She wished she had known more about vultures such as he before she came to town.
"I really must have payment by Friday, Miss Englefield, or I shall have to take back what I have advanced to you."
He had her, and he knew it. Somehow, he had learned or guessed her situation. But of course he had. Why else would she need such used goods as those he proffered? If she were truly wealthy, she would have bought new, or leased a town house already properly furnished.
"Your lack of trust wounds me, Mr. Rafferty. You shall have your payment by Friday. But I will not require you to fill the order. I
From the safer side of her door, she peered out through the beveled glass to see the elegant black carriage already gone. She was glad he had not chosen to escort her into the house, for she wished to be shed of him as quickly as she might.
She wondered if there was a human being alive besides Reggie who actually loved the man, and decided it was unlikely.
Chapter Eight
"Are you quite all right, Miss Englefield?" Cargill asked. Alarm shone in his eyes as he took the bonnet she thrust into his hands.
"Quite so, Cargill. Thank you." Chloe cast about for her aunt and saw the drawing room door standing open.
"You have another caller, I'm afraid, Miss Englefield."
And not one Cargill had hoped to see, she surmised. She questioned him with her eyes.
"Mr. Rafferty, ma'am. The draper."
Rafferty was more than just a draper. He had arranged for the collection of slightly used furniture and just about everything that had gone into making this shabby town house presentable.
"Duns already?"
Cargill nodded ominously. "Possibly, yes, miss."
"Well, I should rather have all my troubles come in one day and be done with them for a bit," she replied. But she suspected such things were more likely to keep piling up. Chloe squared her shoulders and walked into the drawing room with her hands clasped properly before her.
"Good morning, Mr. Rafferty," she said.
Rafferty was a n ordinary sort of fellow for his age, tending slightly to fat, dressed all in a heavy brown wool. Deep wrinkles from sitting creased both his coat and trousers. "Good morning, Miss Englefield," he said with a proper tradesman-like bow, guilt edging his nervous face. "I have just been conversing with your aunt."
"As I see. Have you something new for us? Perhaps the blue draperies I requested? As you can see, the facings are badly faded."
"Ah, yes," he replied, nodding and bowing all at once, with hands held at his waist as if he clasped a hat in them. "No, Miss Englefield, I have nothing that will do, yet. Of course, I might surely find something, but there is that matter of the bill..."
Chloe's teeth clenched. He wo uld not dare make mention of it if she were a man. "It has not been above two months, Mr. Rafferty, and you have received some payment. I am surprised you bring up the matter."
His lightly balding head bobbed repeatedly in such a way that caused Chloe to wonder if the man had some unusual sort of twitch. "Of course, Miss Englefield, but the bill is, well, quite large. And there is the matter of your additional order. But I am afraid, of course, well, something must be paid first. Surely you understand a man must make a living, and if there are other items to be found for you, well, I must pay the merchants who find them for me, you understand. I am afraid, of course, if something is not settled on the account, well, I am very much afraid I will have to, well, do something."
Irritation twitched on her lips, but she managed a thin smile. "And what would that be, Mr. Rafferty?"
"Well, I should have to take things back, of course. But there is wear and tear to consider, too, of course."
She had no trouble interpreting his words. He would take back all she had bought, but she would still owe him money. She suspected it would be a considerable amount. She wished she had known more about vultures such as he before she came to town.
"I really must have payment by Friday, Miss Englefield, or I shall have to take back what I have advanced to you."
He had her, and he knew it. Somehow, he had learned or guessed her situation. But of course he had. Why else would she need such used goods as those he proffered? If she were truly wealthy, she would have bought new, or leased a town house already properly furnished.
"Your lack of trust wounds me, Mr. Rafferty. You shall have your payment by Friday. But I will not require you to fill the order. I
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