the crux of the problem. He hadn’t lied when he told Fancy that weavers were a contentious lot, and the most contentious amongst them was a head weaver named William Bodin. Fiery and defiant, Bodin was a natural leader who had the ear of the other workers. He’d made trouble for Severin before, yet he had the backing of his peers, which made it difficult to oust him without causing a work stoppage or, worse, riot. Bodin would no doubt oppose the use of the new Jacquard looms.
Severin’s temples tightened as he contemplated the pitfalls ahead. Then again, when had anything in his life been easy? Nothing had been given to him without a fight.
“Order the device,” he said brusquely. “Have it set up in one of the empty warehouses and use discretion. I do not wish for word of the machine to leak until I have done a trial run.”
“Very good, Your Grace,” Dutton said. “If there is nothing else…”
Dismissing the man of business, Severin went to stare broodingly out the window. He was literally standing at the height of success, and he ought to be content. But he wasn’t. He felt isolated…alone. In and of itself, this was not unusual. What was unusual was that it bothered him.
Severin became aware of the craving he had been keeping at bay for the past two days. He hadn’t felt right going to his wife’s bed when he was brooding over another woman. Yet now as his rumination over Imogen subsided, he realized how much he’d missed Fancy, spending time with her even if they were just talking.
While he hadn’t knocked on her bedchamber door, she hadn’t knocked on his either. He thought that she was probably tired. Aunt Esther had been keeping her busy with shopping expeditions, elocution lessons, and the like. The old dragon had even cornered him on his way out this morning to pay Fancy a compliment.
Francesca has a long way to go, Knighton, no doubt about that, Aunt Esther had said. Nonetheless, there is no lack of effort on the gel’s part. She is determined to become a proper duchess and to do you and the family name proud.
It might not sound like a glowing compliment. From Aunt Esther, however, this was nothing short of an accolade. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that Fancy was managing to win over his prickly aunt: his wife’s warm and cheerful manner would please anyone but the most dyed-in-the-wool ogre.
Severin hungered for a taste of Fancy’s sweetness and that feeling of closeness that had begun to grow between them. Now that his head was clear and his mood had passed, he could go to her without feeling like a bastard. A sudden inspiration struck him. He decided to make a stop on the way home to pick up a gift for his wife. Such a tribute was long overdue, and he couldn’t wait to see Fancy’s reaction when he gave her his surprise.
After her bath that evening, Fancy sat at her dressing table while her new lady’s maid Gemma combed out her hair. Mrs. Treadwell had lined up three applicants for Fancy to interview today; Fancy had hired Gemma on the spot when the other expertly styled her hair into a coiffure that even Aunt Esther deemed acceptable. Resourceful and discreet, the little blonde maid was a fount of information about the latest fashions, having worked with many ladies of quality in the past.
When the knock sounded on the door between her and Knight’s bedchamber, Fancy gave a start of surprise. Given Knight’s absence the past two nights, she hadn’t expected him to pay her a visit.
Gemma gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Shall I get the door, Your Grace?”
“Yes. No. Wait.” Fancy hurriedly inspected herself in the mirror. “’Ow do I look?”
“Beautiful, Your Grace.” There was a twinkle in Gemma’s eyes. “The new nightgown suits you ever so well.”
The matching negligee and peignoir had been amongst the first of the items to arrive from the modiste and were unlike anything Fancy had owned or worn before. At the fitting, Madame Rousseau had assured her that this design was all the rage in Paris and a favorite of aristocratic clients and especially their husbands. Indeed, the dressmaker had said with a secret smile, she always encouraged clients to order duplicates. Although Fancy didn’t see why she would need two of the expensive negligees—she made it a habit to take good care of her clothing—she’d nonetheless put herself completely in the modiste’s