She shook her head. “You’ve already done something.”
“What’s that?” His eyes creased at the corners as he looked down at her.
“You’ve given me hope.” And then she brought the backs of his fingers up to her cheek. “When I had so little.”
“Hope can be a dangerous thing,” he replied even as his fingers brushed her skin again. “It can make the disappointment sting that much more.”
She shook her head. She’d not worry about that yet. “Today is for breathing a sigh of relief.” Then she dropped his hands and headed for the door. Eliza was waiting for her in the carriage.
But just before she left, she looked back over her shoulder. “You’re a good man, Bash.”
Rather than smile, he frowned. “Don’t count on it.” Then he turned away, moving toward his desk.
She covered her chest with her hand, but she kept moving. She didn’t know quite what his reaction meant but she wasn’t ready to find out.
Chapter Eight
Isabella once again sat at the dressing table as Abigail pinned her hair.
She attempted not to wince as Abigail pulled and twisted the locks into place. “Abby.” She rarely called Abigail that anymore. It had been a childhood nickname. “The hair will not lay any better if you’ve pulled it all from my head.”
Abigail sniffed, ignoring Isabella’s charge. “Why are you doing this? You made a small fortune last night.” But she softened her touch as she continued to work the locks into place.
“Not a fortune,” Isabella replied quietly. Not even close. “Not nearly enough if Uncle Malcolm sells our house out from under us. Not enough…” But she let the words taper off. The money she’d made last night wouldn’t provide long for her sisters.
Abigail frowned. “Still. This is beyond dangerous. In fact, it’s positively…”
But Eliza tossed open the door, interrupting the conversation. “Isabella!” Her sister’s voice rose, sounding almost strangled. “There’s an elderly woman here who claims to be…Aunt Mildred home from shopping. I do believe she’s mad or—”
“Drat.” Isabella stood. Her head had been swimming when she’d left Bash’s home and she’d forgotten to tell Eliza about Bash’s plan. She’d been too busy informing Eliza about his plan to have her deal nightly and in return, find matches for the other three Carrington sisters. “Didn’t I mention that?”
“No,” Eliza huffed but a grin was already parting her lips.
“What’s this all about?” Abigail asked.
Emily stood behind Eliza. “Did someone say Aunt Mildred was here?”
“She is,” Isabella answered. “She’s here to see you three launched into society.”
Abigail gasped while Emily covered her mouth with her hands.
But E
liza began to laugh. Hard and long. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Eliza,” an unfamiliar voice snapped from the hall. “Ladies do not laugh in such a way.”
“Yes, Aunt Mildred.” Eliza immediately stopped, though her eyes continued to twinkle.
“What the devil?” Abigail whispered.
Isabella drew up. “I’m going to say this once and then we’ll never speak of it again. His Grace has provided us with a replacement Aunt Mildred. She’ll be living with us….” Isabella looked over at the graceful older woman whose brown hair was streaked with grey. She looked remarkably like Eliza, which meant no one would question the woman’s relationship with the girls.
“For the next six months,” the woman said. “Just long enough to see my nieces matched with good husbands before I return to Scotland.” She had the slightest Scottish lilt to her voice.
“We can’t save the business.” Eliza shook her head. “Or this house. But His Grace has agreed to help us escape Uncle Malcolm’s clutches.”
Abigail thumped the brush she’d been holding in her hand on the dressing table. “At what cost?”