Secrets Behind Locked Doors. Laura Martin
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sir, madam,’ she said.
‘I’m Lord Fleetwood,’ Robert said, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in recognition of the name, ‘and this is my ward, Miss Louisa Turnhill.’
‘It’s an honour to meet you both.’
‘Miss Turnhill has come to stay with me, but unfortunately all her clothes were destroyed in a fire.’
‘All of them?’ the modiste asked in disbelief.
‘All of them,’ Robert confirmed.
‘My name is Mrs Willow, this here is Lucy,’ the woman said as a young shopgirl stepped forward. ‘And this is Prudence,’ she added as another girl bobbed a curtsy. ‘We would be delighted to be of assistance.’
Robert stepped back as the three women crowded around Louisa and bustled her farther into the shop. He found a comfortable chair, placed so that he had a good view of the proceedings but was tucked out of the way.
‘How many items would you like to order for today?’ Mrs Willow asked.
Louisa glanced back over her shoulder at Robert.
‘Oh, just the one,’ she said.
‘She means one to wear away today,’ Robert corrected her from his position in the corner, ‘and six more to order.’
All four women looked at him in shock.
‘Of course, sir,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘And would these all be daytime dresses?’
Again Louisa looked at him for guidance.
‘For now, yes, let’s focus on the daytime,’ he said. ‘But if you keep her measurements, then we can order evening gowns at some point in the future.’
‘And what colours do you favour, Miss Turnhill?’
‘Anything but grey,’ Louisa said, smiling. ‘The brighter the better.’
Robert watched as Louisa was led round the shop and roll after roll of material was presented to her. She seemed to come alive with every minute as she discussed the luxury of one material and compared it to the comfort of another. He could hardly believe this was the same scared young woman he’d found in a cell in Lewisham Asylum just yesterday.
Every so often Louisa would glance his way, uncertain about a decision, and Robert would give her an encouraging smile. He liked that a small gesture from him was enough to give her the confidence she needed to prosper in such an unfamiliar setting.
‘So we have decided on materials and colours,’ Mrs Willow said. ‘Now we have to decide on style.’
Louisa was led behind a curtain by the two young shopgirls. Every few minutes Mrs Willow would carry another dress behind the curtain.
‘What do you think?’ Louisa asked shyly.
Robert looked up and felt his breath catch in his chest.
Louisa looked at him nervously, biting her bottom lip. Robert knew he had to say something, but suddenly his words had deserted him.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said eventually.
Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. She looked stunning. He hadn’t been able to even begin to imagine what had lain under the shapeless sacks he’d seen her in before. Now it was laid out for everyone to see. The dress nipped in at her slender waist and skimmed over her hips and the upper half accentuated her cleavage to maximum effect. Robert felt a sudden and unexpected stab of jealousy. He didn’t want anyone else seeing her like this.
He told himself to stop being so ridiculous. She wasn’t his to covet. She was his ward and he should be pleased she was so delighted with her new appearance.
‘I feel like a different person,’ Louisa said quietly.
As she smiled Robert knew it was a smile just for him and he felt the first stirrings of desire wake inside him. When she was happy, genuinely happy, she glowed.
The four women looked at him expectantly and Robert realised he’d cleared his throat in an effort to take control of himself. They were expecting him to say something.
‘The colour suits you,’ he ventured. He wasn’t an expert on fashion or materials, but no one could deny the emerald-green complemented Louisa’s chestnut hair and deep brown eyes exquisitely.
‘We’ll take it,’ Robert said to Mrs Willow. ‘That’s if you would like it.’
He turned back to Louisa and saw the hope burn in her eyes, but something was holding her back.
Discreetly Mrs Willow ushered the two shopgirls away so Robert and Louisa could converse in private.
‘What’s wrong?’ Robert asked. ‘Don’t you like it?’
‘I love the dress,’ Louisa answered. ‘And I love how it makes me feel. It’s just...’ She trailed off.
Robert smiled at her encouragingly.
‘It’s just I don’t know if I can afford it.’
Robert frowned.
‘I think Mr Craven spent most of my inheritance and I haven’t exactly been able to earn a living this last year.’
‘You’re my ward, Miss Turnhill,’ Robert said slowly. ‘It is my legal obligation to provide you with clothes and food and shelter.’
He saw her face drop at being called his ‘legal obligation’.
‘What’s more, it is my pleasure to buy this dress for you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She said it with such sincerity he knew she appreciated him not treating her as solely his duty.
Louisa took a step closer to him and for a second Robert thought she was about to embrace him. He felt a rush of pleasure surge through his body. Every single part of him knew touching Louisa would be a bad idea, but still he desired it.
The disappointment he felt when Louisa merely smiled at him was acute, but he forced himself to smile back.
‘We’ll take this dress as it is,’ Robert called to Mrs Willow. ‘It seems to fit her well. I’ll send someone to pick up the others in a couple of days.’
‘Very good, sir.’
Robert did not want to examine his reaction to Louisa in detail. He knew his newfound attraction towards her was wrong on so many levels. Maybe it was natural, he told himself. She was a good-looking woman who had been transformed into a beautiful butterfly in front of his eyes. And he was a man who had denied himself any sort of female companionship for so long. Perhaps his attraction towards her was to be expected. After all, she was the first woman he’d spent any sort of time with in the last two years.
Robert could only hope that was all it was. The last thing he needed was to desire any woman, let alone the one he was legally bound to until she came of age.
Louisa felt transformed. It was amazing how something as insignificant as a dress could make her feel like a real woman, not some crazy orphan who had been stuck in an asylum for the last year.
She glanced at Robert. He hadn’t said a word whilst the last few adjustments were being made to her dress, but she’d felt his eyes on her.
She couldn’t quite work out what his motivations were. He’d just spent rather a lot of money on making her look respectable and, more importantly, making her happy.
Louisa had been well loved by her parents. She had fond memories of shopping trips with her mother and indulgent presents from her father, but since their deaths she hadn’t received a single gift. Christmas had been a