Concordia said.
Mrs. Oates nodded sagely. “I expect the gowns will need a bit of taking in here and there, but Nan is a fine hand with needle and thread. I’ll send her up to have a look.”
Concordia waved a hand at the unopened packages. “Onward to the gloves, ladies.”
Edwina, Theodora, Hannah and Phoebe tore into the wrappings.
Concordia went to stand next to Mrs. Oates. Together they watched the girls try on the gloves.
“I am very grateful to you, Mrs. Oates,” Concordia murmured. “You did a fine job with the shopping.”
“It was no problem.” Mrs. Oates chuckled. “Indeed, I quite enjoyed myself.”
“I must say, I was astounded that the dressmaker was able to supply so many dresses on such short notice. She must have put off all of her other projects in favor of satisfying this order.”
Mrs. Oates raised her brows and looked knowing. “I’m sure she did precisely that.”
“The dressmaker is a friend of Mr. Wells?” Concordia inquired smoothly.
“A former client more like. She was no doubt happy enough to pay her bill at last.”
Concordia stared at the expensive gowns, shocked. “Good heavens, do you mean to say that the fee Mr. Wells charged for his services amounted to the cost of these gowns?”
“No, no, no, Miss Glade.” Mrs. Oates waved that aside with a chuckle. “Mr. Wells paid full price for the dresses. The favor he asked was that they be made up and delivered as quickly as possible. That was how the dressmaker settled her account with him.”
“I see. Mr. Wells handles his business in a most unusual manner, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Miss Glade, he does, at that.”
“There is something that confuses me, Mrs. Oates.”
“Yes, Miss Glade?”
“If Mr. Wells does not charge money for his services and instead merely collects favors when he needs them, I assume that he is a wealthy man.”
“He is quite comfortably fixed and that’s a fact.”
“Yet he occupies another man’s house,” Concordia added.
“Oh, Mr. Stoner doesn’t mind him living here.”
“Yet they are not blood relations?”
“No, Miss Glade. Not related in any way. Just good friends.”
“ Very good friends, evidently.”
“Aye, Miss Glade. That they are, that they are.”
“Mr. Stoner obviously places a great deal of trust in Mr. Wells,” she said as tactfully as possible.
Mrs. Oates rocked slightly, acknowledging the comment. “That he does.”
Very good friends. Concordia thought about the casual manner in which Ambrose had referred to the possibility that a woman might take another woman as a lover. Was he at ease with the subject because his own personal physical interests were directed at members of his own sex? It might explain the odd connection between Ambrose and the mysterious Mr. Stoner.
It was also, from her purely personal and private point of view, quite depressing.
Then again, it was not as if she had ever had any real expectations of indulging in a passionate liaison with Ambrose Wells, she reminded herself.
“Would you look at the time?” Mrs. Oates gave a small start. “How did it get to be so late? I must be off to see about the preparations for dinner. If you will excuse me, Miss Glade, I’ll leave you and the young ladies to the new clothes.”
She bustled out the door and disappeared.
Concordia tapped one finger against the top of the dressing table, absently listening to the girls discuss the matching of shoes, gloves and dresses.
So much for her attempt to elicit information about the odd workings of this household. Obviously she would have to take a more crafty approach in the future if she wished to learn anything useful.
12
T he knock on the library door pulled Ambrose out of a deep contemplation of the garden on the other side of the French doors. He surfaced slowly from the meditative trance.
“Come in,” he said.
He heard the door open behind him but he did not turn around. He remained where he was, seated cross-legged on the carpet,
Mrs. Oates nodded sagely. “I expect the gowns will need a bit of taking in here and there, but Nan is a fine hand with needle and thread. I’ll send her up to have a look.”
Concordia waved a hand at the unopened packages. “Onward to the gloves, ladies.”
Edwina, Theodora, Hannah and Phoebe tore into the wrappings.
Concordia went to stand next to Mrs. Oates. Together they watched the girls try on the gloves.
“I am very grateful to you, Mrs. Oates,” Concordia murmured. “You did a fine job with the shopping.”
“It was no problem.” Mrs. Oates chuckled. “Indeed, I quite enjoyed myself.”
“I must say, I was astounded that the dressmaker was able to supply so many dresses on such short notice. She must have put off all of her other projects in favor of satisfying this order.”
Mrs. Oates raised her brows and looked knowing. “I’m sure she did precisely that.”
“The dressmaker is a friend of Mr. Wells?” Concordia inquired smoothly.
“A former client more like. She was no doubt happy enough to pay her bill at last.”
Concordia stared at the expensive gowns, shocked. “Good heavens, do you mean to say that the fee Mr. Wells charged for his services amounted to the cost of these gowns?”
“No, no, no, Miss Glade.” Mrs. Oates waved that aside with a chuckle. “Mr. Wells paid full price for the dresses. The favor he asked was that they be made up and delivered as quickly as possible. That was how the dressmaker settled her account with him.”
“I see. Mr. Wells handles his business in a most unusual manner, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Miss Glade, he does, at that.”
“There is something that confuses me, Mrs. Oates.”
“Yes, Miss Glade?”
“If Mr. Wells does not charge money for his services and instead merely collects favors when he needs them, I assume that he is a wealthy man.”
“He is quite comfortably fixed and that’s a fact.”
“Yet he occupies another man’s house,” Concordia added.
“Oh, Mr. Stoner doesn’t mind him living here.”
“Yet they are not blood relations?”
“No, Miss Glade. Not related in any way. Just good friends.”
“ Very good friends, evidently.”
“Aye, Miss Glade. That they are, that they are.”
“Mr. Stoner obviously places a great deal of trust in Mr. Wells,” she said as tactfully as possible.
Mrs. Oates rocked slightly, acknowledging the comment. “That he does.”
Very good friends. Concordia thought about the casual manner in which Ambrose had referred to the possibility that a woman might take another woman as a lover. Was he at ease with the subject because his own personal physical interests were directed at members of his own sex? It might explain the odd connection between Ambrose and the mysterious Mr. Stoner.
It was also, from her purely personal and private point of view, quite depressing.
Then again, it was not as if she had ever had any real expectations of indulging in a passionate liaison with Ambrose Wells, she reminded herself.
“Would you look at the time?” Mrs. Oates gave a small start. “How did it get to be so late? I must be off to see about the preparations for dinner. If you will excuse me, Miss Glade, I’ll leave you and the young ladies to the new clothes.”
She bustled out the door and disappeared.
Concordia tapped one finger against the top of the dressing table, absently listening to the girls discuss the matching of shoes, gloves and dresses.
So much for her attempt to elicit information about the odd workings of this household. Obviously she would have to take a more crafty approach in the future if she wished to learn anything useful.
12
T he knock on the library door pulled Ambrose out of a deep contemplation of the garden on the other side of the French doors. He surfaced slowly from the meditative trance.
“Come in,” he said.
He heard the door open behind him but he did not turn around. He remained where he was, seated cross-legged on the carpet,
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