because she has some odd idea that I am involved in a story.”
Miss Walker lifted a hand. “Oh, Lord Huntingdon—”
“Miss Haversham, I suggest you leave. With haste.”
Her mouth tightened and she shucked off that awful coat, flinging it over the long table that ran along the front of the shop then added her hat to the pile. “I am here for Miss Walker,” she snapped. “Your ego might have you believe a woman cannot have a life outside of you, my lord, but Miss Walker is my friend. I had no idea you were going to be here.”
He looked to Miss Walker.
She nodded, biting down on her lip. “It is true, my lord. Freya helps me when I have more orders than I can manage. We have known each other since I moved to England as a child.”
“Ah.” He drew in a deep breath.
One kiss and he’d become an utter fool. Miss Haversham had turned him into a madman. He blew out a long breath. “I apologize—”
“I can see you’re busy, Lucy, so I shall leave you to it,” Miss Haversham said, making a grab for her coat.
“Oh, you can help me if you do not mind,” Miss Walker suggested. “I only need to do the sleeves, but I could use an extra hand.”
Freya glanced between them both and shoulders sagged. “Of course.”
Guy froze as she neared him. Miss Walker directed her to pinch the fabric and he fixed his gaze on the street outside, the movement of people slightly blurry through the thick, beveled glass.
In the peripheral of his vision, Miss Haversham remained perfectly still, her gaze cast down while Miss Walker worked. He stole a few glances, liking the way her pale lashes fanned against her cheeks far too much and wondering how she gathered all that hair so with one simple comb.
It had been spectacularly long when wet but how would it look unleashed? He never thought a blasted comb could be a temptation. Given he had managed to resist the lure of any woman since Amelia, he would have thought himself impervious to such thoughts.
But, no, this wretched comb taunted him. One little tug and her hair would spill down her shoulders and wind down to just above her rear. It would swing there, begging for his touch. Then once he’d run the length of her hair through his fingers, he’d curve his hands over that arse and cup her close.
And she would panic and flee, just like Amelia had done. Except it would be even worse. He’d likely end up in the gossip columns.
He swallowed hard and eyed a smudge on the window. Forget the kiss, forget her hair, forget ever touching her. How hard could that be?
LUCY SHUT THE door behind Lord Huntingdon and she and Freya froze until the blur of him had passed the window. Lucy pivoted on a heel and hastened over, grasping Freya’s hands. “I did not know you knew the Earl of Henleigh.”
“What was he even doing here?” Freya asked, finally releasing the breath that she suspected she had been holding since she first stepped into Lucy’s shop.
“He offered to come here for the final fitting, can you believe it?” Lucy shook her head. “He is such a gentleman.”
“Well, I suppose he’s not terrible,” she murmured.
“What sort of story are you doing on him? Something to do with one of his lovers I would wager.” She waggled her brows.
Freya sank onto a spindly chair. How her legs had held her up for so long, she did not know. Seeing the earl after kissing him only yesterday had made her legs feel as though they were skinnier and weaker than the legs of the furniture beneath her.
“I do not think he has any lovers.”
Lucy scowled and drew out the second chair then sat opposite. “An attractive rich man like that? He must have women clamoring to be his countess.”
Freya didn’t want to think on that. She eyed the woodgrain of the table and traced the pattern with a finger. “He’s not that handsome.”
“Either he has done something truly awful or you are as blind as your dog, Freya. I see plenty of handsome nobles in my job and that man is one of the most handsome.”
“Well, if you like that sort, he is acceptable I suppose,” she muttered.
“Acceptable?” Lucy leaned in and peered at Freya. “I think you have been working too hard. I shall certainly have to hire someone else now.”
“No!” Freya snapped her head up. “You cannot afford