Tea and Scandal by Joan Smith Page A

Fenwick drove into the inn yard to stable his rig.
    He reached out, tucked a wanton curl back in place, straightened her bonnet, and said, “ There, now you look like your proper little self. ”
    The speech was at odds with the intimate gesture. Was that how he saw her, as a “proper little” lady? She felt she had grown beyond that. But then, what should he think, when she was wearing the horrid old round bonnet that Miss Prism insisted on? He hopped down and threw the reins to a stableboy, then assisted Jane down from the perch. He didn’t offer his hand; such mild gestures were for old men, in Fenwick’s view. He put his two hands around her waist and whirled her to the ground in a flurry of skirts that showed her ankles. His sharp eye noticed the lack of any lace on her petticoat. It also noticed her slender, well-turned ankles. His strong hands held her as easily as if she were a flower. She gave a little gasp of surprise, then laughed to cover her embarrassment.
    “ You should smile more often, Miss Lonsdale, ” he said, gazing at her upturned face. Lovely long lashes, she had, and such a delicate complexion. “ You don ’ t have to frighten your pupils now. ” He felt a stabbing ache for that plain muslin petticoat. A lady deserved lace.
    “ Oh, I never frighten them. Miss Prism is in charge of scaring the poor things to death. ”
    “ A shrew, is she? Did she frighten you, too? ”
      “ Well, she is rather a Tartar, but let ’ s not spoil this wonderful outing by talking about her. ”
     

Chapter Ten
     
    “ Which way shall we go? ” Jane asked, looking around. On an impulse she said, “ I should like to buy a new bonnet while we ’ re here. ” Then she added artlessly, “ My aunt is paying me a shocking salary for doing nothing but enjoying myself. ” He looked a question at her. “ Two hundred pounds per annum, ” she announced, her eyes large with pleasure, verging on disbelief at her good fortune. “ I feel a very bandit taking it from her. ”
    Fenwick felt a pang at the modest sum mentioned. He spent more than that on his boots. And she spoke of this simple jaunt as “ a wonderful outing. ” Lord, he was fortunate. Never had to work a day in his life, and had more money than one man could wisely spend. Free to come and go as he wished, while other, no doubt more worthy, folks toiled their lives away under the thumb of petty tyrants such as Miss Prism.
    “ I love helping ladies choose their bonnets, ” he said. “ I, being nothing else but a fashionable fribble, shall advise you on all the latest London modes, and you shall help me choose some marchpane for Mrs. Swann. ”
    “ I recommend the one with nuts and cherries. It ’ s  lovely! Harriet — she ’ s my friend at Bath — bought me some for my birthday. ”
    “ It won ’ t do for Mrs. Swann. She has difficulty in chewing, ” he said discreetly, for it seemed rude to say she was missing half her teeth.
    “ Then you already know what you must buy. You don ’ t need my help. ”
    “ I didn ’ t invite you to come with me because I need help, Miss Lonsdale, but because I enjoy your company, ” he said, and tucking her hand under his arm, they set off down the High Street.
    They stopped at the first milliner ’ s shop they came to and looked in the window.
    “ That one is rather pretty, ” Jane said, admiring a navy glazed straw bonnet with a low poke.
    Fenwick shook his head. “You’re out of the classroom now, ma’am. Let us go for something a little more dashing. This is a shop for older ladies. Why, it doesn’t even have a French name,” he said, pointing to the sign that read Miss Daly, Purveyor of Millinery to the Quality. “ All the better milliners pretend they ’ re French, you must know. ”
    “ Yes, and charge twice the price for the honor of being able to say the bonnet came from Mademoiselle Dubois, instead of Miss Wood. ”
    “But one is also allowed to call the bonnet a chapeau. That is