Chapter Twenty-Two
Accompanying his wife through the town lifted Marcus’s spirits considerably. Ellen’s curiosity of nearly everything to do with London had him remembering lessons in history, deportment, and geography. Though Ellen expressed her desire to take everything in as quickly as possible, their tour was confined to the shops on his mother’s orders. Ellen was to find a suitable ballgown for that very evening and commission another one with haste.
“She cannot appear in ballgowns from last season. From Bath’s last season,” his mother had proclaimed in horror upon seeing Ellen’s wardrobe.
Marcus visited several seamstresses with his wife, until they found a woman whose French accent was better than the others’ and who took one look at Ellen and announced she already had the perfect dress.
“It will take a little altering. Another client commissioned it, of course, but now finds she cannot be seen in blue. Imagine, giving up a dress so exquisite on a whim.” The seamstress sniffed disdainfully and raised her shoulders in a way that nearly convinced Marcus she had come from France.
“Come with me, Mrs. Calvert.” She took Ellen by the hand and led her into a back room for a fitting, and when Ellen looked back at him with a helpless smile he shrugged and waved.
Marcus sauntered around the front of the shop, looking at some of the fashion plates left on tables to tempt customers, but then his eyes strayed up to the window and he looked out on the street.
Lady Selene, now Lady Castleton, stood on the walk and stared up at him. She tipped her head to the side, a slow, feline smile changing her features from lovely to exquisite. No one in England knew how to play up their features to such perfection as she did.
He waited to feel pain at the sight of her, for his heart to leap, or any of the old reactions to come. Instead, he relief washed over him.
She held no power over him any longer.
With that knowledge to fortify him, Marcus went out the door and directly to her.
“My, my. Marcus Calvert,” she said, holding her hand out to him in greeting. He took it and bowed, in as slight a manner as he could without giving offense.
“Lady Castleton.”
“Oh, dear man, we are old friends. Surely you will still call me Selene?” She lowered her lashes, falsely demure.
Marcus smirked, realizing she was trying to play the game with him. But he had already won. “That was years ago, my lady, and I feel I do not know you so well as I thought. But it’s of no consequence. We will not be seeing each other again. I wished to say goodbye.”
She blinked up at him, confusion momentarily clouding her crystal blue eyes, but she pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout he had once found adorable. What had been wrong with him? The juvenile behavior did nothing to recommend her anymore.
“But, Mr. Calvert. Marcus. How could you say that? We are both in London. It is the season. And I wished to invite you to the theater with me this week.”
“That will be impossible,” he said firmly. “I intend to go to the theater next week, with my wife, but we already have a full schedule until then.” He couldn’t help grinning when she narrowed her eyes at him.
“I have missed you,” she stated, the look in her eyes bolder. “Surely you know what you meant to me. My marriage is without warmth of feeling or kindness of spirit. I merely thought you, someone who cared for me, might offer some comfort.”
Her meaning hit him squarely between the eyes and he took a step back. “My lady, you are most mistaken in the nature of our relationship in past or the present. I must also say that there will be no future conversation between us. Good bye.” He tipped his hat to her, then turned and fled back into the dress shop.
Ellen stood at the front of the shop when he entered, her brows furrowed in a deep frown. “Who was that?” she asked, glancing back to the window where he saw Selene’s figure marching rapidly down the street. “You made her upset.”
Marcus shook his head. “It’s no one of consequence. Someone I used to know.” He looked around the shop, not seeing its keeper anywhere. “What of the dress? Will it suit you?”
“I believe so. They will make a few small alterations and deliver it this afternoon,” she answered slowly, regarding him with a quizzical frown. “Are you well, Marcus?”
“Yes. Very.” He smiled and offered his arm to her. “Would you like to go home by way of the book shops?”
Her eyes brightened and Marcus knew he had hit upon the right topic to inspire a change of subject. He had no need to speak of or to Lady Castleton ever again. Whatever the spell she had placed him under, it had been successfully broken by the woman at his side. Ellen’s was the only smile that would ever have power over him again.