The Governess's Convenient Marriage. Amanda McCabe

twisting paths, into a small herb maze that was much quieter. ‘Is that how you usually feel? Like a doll?’

      ‘Sometimes,’ Alex said, marvelling at how he made her feel. Shy and yet bold at the same time. ‘Many times. I’m told where to go, what to say, who to sit with, who to dance with…’

      ‘Who to walk with in the garden?’

      Alex laughed. ‘Yes, usually. But this time I was rescued by Lady Smythe-Tomas.’ She glanced back towards the terrace, now far distant, where Lady S.-T. was still chatting with her mother. ‘She is so elegant, isn’t she?’

      ‘One of Gordston’s best customers.’

      And was she more than that? Alex found she didn’t like the little green-eyed pang that came over her at the thought. ‘Is she—friends with you? Old friends?’

      He looked down at her with a crooked smile and she feared she had given too much away. ‘Friends, yes, only. We’re too similar to get along in any other way.’

      ‘As we were once friends?’ Alex blurted.

      He frowned. ‘Friends?’

      ‘Do you not remember me? In Scotland? You taught me to fish. I never forgot.’ And she had never seen him again after that day she saw him with Mairie McGregor. How high had he climbed since then.

      ‘I did remember you later, after we met at the park. I felt so foolish for not realising right away. You were quite a terror with a rod and reel back then. Are you still?’

      ‘There isn’t much call for it here in London.’ Alex looked away, pretending to study the flowers. ‘Look at you now, though. And Lady Smythe-Tomas shops at Gordston’s, as does everyone! How did you come to own such a place? They say it’s so elegant, all the latest fashions.’

      ‘You haven’t been there?’

      Alex bit her lip. ‘I don’t often get to choose where to shop.’

      ‘The porcelain doll?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He led her to bench under the shade of a looming oak tree and sat down next to her. ‘Well, I didn’t grow up dreaming of department stores. I was born in Scotland, a country lad, as you know.’

      ‘Yes.’ She remembered when she was a child, the craggy hills against the lavender sky, the cold, smoky air, running free over the moors. The excitement of fishing with Malcolm. ‘I’ve never felt so gloriously free as when I was allowed to explore the hills.’

      He watched her closely, his expression closed, unreadable. ‘It’s a bonnie place, nowhere else like it, in the hills. But it’s no good for work. I was an apprentice at a draper’s shop in Glasgow when I left. My father had recently died then.’

      ‘Oh, I am sorry!’ Alex cried. She remembered his father had not been well the last time they met.

      ‘He missed my mother so much, it was probably a blessing he went quickly,’ Malcolm said tonelessly. ‘I found work a good way to forget.’

      Alex fidgeted with her parasol, not sure what to say. ‘And you found you liked that work?’

      ‘Aye. I was surprised by it. As you said, I was used to exploring the hills, being free. But I liked meeting the customers, seeing the pleasure it gave them to find just the right fabric, the right style. I even liked keeping the accounts, seeing them all add up. It was a great satisfaction.’

      ‘I do envy you,’ Alex said. How lovely it would be to have a job to do, learn how to do it well and see its rewards.

      But Malcolm looked surprised. ‘Do you? It’s long hours, learning from mistakes, hard work on your feet. Even now, with a new kind of store. Maybe even especially now.’

      ‘That’s why I envy you! You forge your own path. I have to always follow. I don’t even know what I would be good at.’ She didn’t want to admit to him she had never tried anything. Emily was good at business, Diana at writing. All Alex had that was her own was the charity work she did and she did find great satisfaction in that.