London Lace, #2 (6 page)

There’s no denying Miss Keating has a talent as a top milliner, but does she have what it takes to keep the wild Montgomery stallion in line? Others before her haven’t managed to break Sir Todd’s untamed spirit. Now that this Piccadilly Princess has thrown her hat in the ring, will she end up eating it?

Eliza was mortified. They had gone digging into her past, said those things about her parents. It was ghastly.

“It will be forgotten about in a day or two,” consoled Stella. “And you know what they say, any press is good for business.”

“I’ll lose clients after this!”

“Maybe a few. But you’ll bring in two or three times more.”

“Tori said one of her friends said they know one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting and
she
said
my
name came up in reference to dressing for the Ascot. I can’t believe this timing!”

“Look, the important thing is that you and Todd are an item. You care about each other. Focus on that.”

Eliza snapped the paper at Stella. “What about this bit about ‘others before her’? What is that supposed to mean?”

Stella shrugged. “How should I know? Ask Tori. But you shouldn’t care about his past any more than he should care about yours.”

“How in hell did they find out about that stupid nickname? How do I explain that if he asks?”

Stella shrugged again and looked away.

Eliza watched her, a realization dawning on her. “
You
didn’t tell them, did you? Did they call you?”

Stella looked guilty, then distraught, then defensive. “The reporter called me but I wouldn’t tell him
anything
.” She bit her lip. “I only confirmed we were at design school together. I didn’t think there was any harm in that. And I told him you were an amazing designer. An amazing
person
. He must have done some digging on his own.”

Eliza scrutinized Stella’s features. Her guilt had not completely evaporated after her relatively harmless confession.

“But you
do
have idea who might have told him? Is that what you’re afraid to tell me?”

“It’s only a guess, but I’d bet it was Annabelle.”

Annabelle Harrison had not been accepted to the London College of Fashion. Stella hadn’t helped her like she’d helped Eliza, who had been far too ‘busy’ to really deserve Stella’s help. Annabelle had been jealous of both of them ever since.

“Bloody hell,” said Eliza. “I’m just going to have to put this out of my mind.” She had decided long ago she wasn’t going to let her past haunt her.

Later than night, Eliza tried calling Todd but only received a text in return.

In the barn with Jez. Problematic. Call u later.

But he didn’t call. He didn’t call for days. By then, the story about him and Eliza and had begun to fade. The gossip had caused a few clients to cancel commissions, but overall Eliza’s business did pick up, just as Stella had predicted. While Carmen took on the nosiest of customers, Eliza worked steadily in the studio. The busy season was upon them so Eliza focused all her attention on her work. Todd wasn’t around to distract her, but she missed him, even more than she thought she would. She told herself he was busy with his work, too, and that he'd call eventually. 

It wasn’t until the beginning of the next week that Eliza, Stella and Tori had a chance to meet for martinis.

Tori and Eliza ordered their drinks without waiting for Stella, who sent a text to say she’d be a little late.

When Eliza had gotten the update from Tori about her ‘discussions’ with Tatum regarding when they might get around to having children—Tori was ready but Tatum liked their life as it was, in fact, Tori hinted that Tatum wanted to spice it up, whatever that meant—Eliza tried to direct their conversation to other members of the Montgomery clan.

“Todd’s still in Devon," said Tori. "Negotiating the purchase of some stud stallion I think, but I guess you knew that.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Eliza nodded and sipped her drink. She knew he was still busy but she didn’t know specifically with what.

“You two still a thing?” said Tori.

Eliza shrugged. “I guess so. We were last week but he kind of dashed off and he hasn’t been back. I don’t really know what we are.”

“I wonder if he’s built like Tatum…” Tori raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Shall we compare notes?”

Eliza laughed. “You still retain your virginal curiosity, my friend. Men are all the same and each different, at the same time.”

“That can’t be true.”

“It’s a generalization, of course, but basically it is true."

Tori fake-pouted. “You’re lucky you got to sew your wild oats.”

“Oats are overrated. So is sewing. You are a happily married woman. Revel in it.”

“You seem to be a happily
single
woman, and you
are
reveling in it.” Tori raised her glass to Eliza. They clinked and drank.

“Todd did say he’d once been mistaken for Tatum,” said Eliza.

“They do have similar features and mannerisms. Is Todd a good lover?”

The question made Eliza practically melt in her seat because it brought back every delicious memory, and because he wasn’t there beside her she felt the pain of his absence. Is that what he’d meant about memories and the pain we endure? Had he been setting the stage for a later let down?

She swallowed the last of her drink and waved for another one. “We nearly combust when we’re together. I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? Oh, wow. Eliza, is this serious for you?”

“I know it was just supposed to be a few dates, but he does something to me, something that’s never happened before. And I think he feels the same way.”

“In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never been really serious about any guy. I thought you were completely devoted to your work, your career.”

“I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fall in love, maybe get married one day.”

Tori looked into her drink. “I didn’t know.”

Eliza watched her friend fish for the grape at the bottom of the glass.

Stella finally arrived and slapped a copy of
The Sun
on the table. She gave Eliza a sympathetic look and then glared at Tori. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“What?” said Tori and Eliza at the same time.

Stella picked up the paper and folded it back to a middle page. She handed it to Eliza. “Sorry, sweetie.”

Eliza found herself staring at a photo of a smiling couple. She gulped. Todd made one half of this couple. He wore a top hat and an insipid grin. She’d never seen him sport either. The young woman—she seemed barely out of adolescence—stood shyly beside him, but she was smiling happily if demurely. She wore a headband with a robust silk flower attached. Simple, elegant, girlish…

Eliza blinked. The professional milliner in her was trying to save her from her own embarrassment and shame. She did that sometimes; she’d trained herself to be practical and professional when strong feelings overwhelmed her. She was assessing the woman’s headpiece instead of feeling the pieces of her heart shatter.

Montgomery Makes his Move

Melissa Selfridge was seen on the arm Sir Todd Montgomery in Exeter last weekend. A close friend accompanied Miss Selfridge to the home of wedding designer, Terrence Applebee, the following day. Is Montgomery finally entering the steeple chase?

Whatever had melted in Eliza a moment before turned to ice. All she could think was,
Where did he get that hat? He didn’t buy it from me.
He was a cheating lover and a cheating hat buyer.

She put the paper down.

“It was a fling, that’s all. A romp in the hay.” A knot formed in her throat as she thought about the Sandown stables. It was more than a knot. It had been more than a romp.

“Excuse me,” said Eliza slipping off her stool.

She ran to the loo and tossed up her Mojave martini.

As she cleaned up, she berated herself for believing the tabloids. Maybe Todd had a good excuse for that picture. Maybe he’d just been caught off guard, like they’d been at the racetrack. Then again, maybe he was reliving his fantasy with a new filly. And caught off guard. No, she refused to believe that everything between them was a sham. It was real, and deep. Or had it been fake, and cheap? She choked back the hurt building inside her. How had such pleasure turned to such pain? She had to talk to him. She needed answers. She would have called him then and there except she had left her mobile on the table in her haste to reach a toilet. After patting her cheeks with cold water, she dabbed them dry and returned to her friends.

From a distance they seemed to be arguing, but as Eliza approached the table, they stopped talking and smiled sympathetically at her.

She settled back on her stool feeling weak but wanting to be strong. She pushed her newly poured martini off to the side.

“Tell her, Tori. Don’t prolong this.”

Tori looked sheepish, and apologetic, as she shifted nervously in her seat.

“You know the family’s been pressuring him to get out in society more.”

“Who is she?” said Eliza.

“The daughter of one of the Lords who bought his thoroughbred, Dante’s Fire. I didn’t think there was anything serious between them.”

“Did you know about her when you set me up with him?”

“No! Only that the families liked the match but he wasn’t interested. Apparently, he never is. Not since… Listen, Tatum would have said something if there was anything substantial between them. Todd would have told you himself.”

Would he have? Eliza realized she really didn’t know him at all. What she thought she knew, she might have imagined. All those great things he said, maybe he’d said them just to get up her skirt. She hadn’t made that too difficult for him, had she?

She looked down at the picture again. It was another racetrack. One in Devon, she presumed. And there were other people in the background. An older gentleman that might have been Melissa’s father, another man, younger, who looked familiar, and a woman, too… Lady Elliot? It wasn’t a flattering picture of her. She was at the side, glancing sidelong at Todd and Melissa. She wore a strange smirk.

“I know that woman.”

Tori looked at the picture. “You know Jocelyn Calvin? Todd told you about her?”

“Calvin? She’s married to Peter Elliot. Isn't she Lady Elliot?”

“She is now, yes.” Tori paused. She glanced at Stella.

“Spit it out,” said Stella crossing her arms.

Tori gulped. “Turns out she was once engaged to Todd.”

“What?”

Eliza was shocked. This was the kind of complex history he hadn’t wanted to bother talking about?

“He broke it off. Years ago. Made his father and her family extremely angry.”

“You knew all this?”

“It’s all in the past, Eliza, what does it matter?”

Eliza gathered up her coat and scarf. “I have to go.”

“I’ll ride with you,” said Stella.

“No. I want to be alone.”