Hattie Glover’s Millinery

around herself. Imagine what a fierce lover she would be…
He slapped his straw boater against his thigh before setting it on his head at a jaunty angle. Romancing a shop girl—correction, shop owner—was not what he should be focusing on, especially when he had not yet ended his affair with Lady Anne Cromwell. He and his paramour had enjoyed each other’s company, but he had felt it coming to an end for some time now. He doubted she would mind, since the widow went through lovers almost as quickly as she discarded one hat for another.
“Do you never tire of your sexual escapades, Hardy?” his friend Will Carmody had asked only yesterday. “Don’t you ever dream of finding a woman who means more to you than a few months’ fun? Someone you might share a home with as you grow old together?”
“A pretty idea, but I believe it’s a myth. I know few married couples who remain faithful to one another. I’d rather be a bachelor when I take a lover than betray a wedding vow to do the same.”
He spoke lightly, but Will’s questions needled him, perhaps because some deep-seated inner voice had been asking the same thing of late. Settling down did sound pleasant and peaceful after a life spent carousing and having almost too much fun.
Will’s comments bothered him enough that Guy sent a barb his way. “What about you, Professor? You don’t make any effort to seriously look for a bride.”
Will smiled in his easy-going way. “Because I know I haven’t a chance. Marriage isn’t in the cards for me. I expect I shall remain a studious bachelor for the remainder of my days, for no woman would find me of interest.”
It had been all Guy could do not to scold him, Make an effort, man! If a wife is what you wish for, you must work to present yourself as desirable.
Instead, he had replied, “You are a catch. Carmody, who will make some woman a fine husband. Now, let us speak no more of romance. You should shake off the dust of your library and get some exercise. Join me at the club for a bit of fencing.”
His friend’s words about pacing himself had affected Guy enough to consider taking a break from romantic pursuits after he’d ended things with Anne. A period of reflection and reassessment was in order. But then today, he’d met a woman who set him back on his heels and aroused his interest like a stoker piling coal on a fire.
“Step back, Guy,” he cautioned himself aloud, drawing the attention of a couple approaching on the pavement. The pair stared at the mumbling stranger.
He smiled. “Don’t mind me. Merely offering a stubborn fool some much-needed advice.”
The fellow shook his head, but his lady smiled and lowered her lashes coquettishly at Guy as they passed. He scarcely noticed. For the first time in years, he felt no desire to look behind and watch the woman’s bustle sway away. His attention was fully occupied with inventing more reasons to visit Hattie Glover’s millinery.

Chapter Two
“I love him, Mrs. Glover, but my parents would never accept Randall James as a suitor. Father has already made an arrangement with Lord Alfred Bellamy.” The red-eyed girl choked back another sob. “He’s nearly as old as Father. I could not bear to become his wife!”
“I should say not.” Rose poured their visitor another cup of tea. “You shouldn’t have to and must put your foot down.”
“Rose, will you please mind the shop. I wouldn’t want a customer to be kept waiting.” Hattie smoothly stopped her assistant’s passionate tirade by removing her from the conversation.
As Rose bustled toward the display room, Hattie regarded Jennifer Pruett from across a work table strewn with sundries and Miss Pruett’s cherry-adorned hat. The girl’s pale hair and skin made her appear as wispy and weightless as a ghost. Her doe-eyes, normally wide and startled, were puffed nearly closed from crying.
“What shall I do, Mrs. Glover? I am beside myself and have no one I may confide in or rely on. While you help me?”
Hattie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She had always viewed Miss Pruett as a flighty girl. Throwing herself headlong into an unacceptable romance was exactly the sort of thing one would expect from her. In the end, no doubt, she would settle down and marry the man of her parents’ choosing, live a staid and respectable life, and become a society matron like her mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and many other generations before her. But Hattie would not express that thought to the unhappy girl.
“I will aid you if I am able, but I must know some facts in order to do so. Tell me a bit about this young man of yours. How and where did you meet him? Why are you so certain your parents would not approve the match?”
Miss Pruett clasped her hands together. “Oh, Mrs. Glover, it was just like a novel. It was a rainy day and I had just emerged from the bookseller’s with my purchases when a fellow brushed against me, knocking the books from my arms to the pavement. He apologized profusely as we both gathered them up. When we rose and looked into each other’s eyes…” She sighed loudly. “When you peer into the very soul of the man you are destined to marry, you simply know it.”
Hattie fought the urge to snort at her dramatics. This was this sort of nonsense she had believed when she’d allowed herself to be seduced by Henry. What a ninny she’d been and how cynical the experience had made her.
The girl continued. “We walked and talked together for only a few minutes that day. My mother and aunt were expecting me at the tea shop and Mother had given me permission to go to the bookseller’s alone for only a brief time. I couldn’t keep them waiting. Randall took my hand and kissed the back of my