The trip back to England felt longer than the trip to France. Perhaps it was due to my eagerness to return and begin scheming with Samuel regarding everything I had learned and the business I had conducted abroad. Perhaps it was because I spent every moment of the journey in the presence of a woman whose fragility after such a traumatic experience and the death of her father was something that I couldn't quite get a hold on. One minute, she was making every attempt at conversation with me, asking me about what she had missed while she was away and how I had become a part of this rescue mission. The next, she was staring forlornly out at the sea, with a frown on her lips and the deepest sadness I had ever seen on another human being on her face. Those were the moments that made me want to go straight to Felicity Walsh and Elizabeth Herbert the second we docked and wring their pretty little necks for what they had done to her. But the sadness passed, as did my violent urges, and we arrived back in England quite a scandalous little pair.

I had informed her on the journey over that I was making every attempt at having her father's estate transferred into her name now that she was no longer indisposed. She was his heir, after all. She should at least have access to his accounts even if his property had already been sold away. She thanked me but kept that cautious look in her eyes as she watched me. It was decided that she would be staying with me for the time being. Until I could get Elena or Nathaniel to open their door for me long enough to explain what I had done. Until I could find a way to convince them that I wanted nothing in return, that I hadn't done this to lord it over them or to claim some debt as my father had against Charlotte. The very thought alone made me sick to my stomach but they wouldn't believe it. Not until I could prove it. So Anne would remain with me until I could.

I led her away from the docks and into a carriage. Though I preferred to walk everywhere in the city, no matter the distance, I wouldn't ask a lady to do the same. Besides, we had luggage and, above that, her sudden reappearance was bound to create quite the scandal. I would rather get ahead of the gossip by allowing her to reemerge into society in whatever fashion and whatever time that she wished. She had called me her rescuer. I had no intention of freeing her from the convent just to abandon her in the city that so horribly turned against her last time.

"Welcome back, boss," Sam said with a smile the moment Anne and I entered the foyer of my family's enormous home. I smiled happily at him as the servants filed past to retrieve our luggage from the carriage outside.

Anne was gaping openly at the opulence of the Keene family estate. I allowed her her observation and didn't speak a word of it even as Sam glanced sideways at the woman before turning wide eyes to me.

"Who–" he started.

"Later, Sam," I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He fell silent with an understanding nod.

"The silk?" I asked.

"All sold," he told me with a proud smile. "Well, all but the bolts you set aside for your own personal use.

"Incredible job, Sam. And your cut?"

"Well, I hadn't–"

"Take it. You earned it."

His cheeks flushed a deep crimson but he gave me a nod of gratitude all the same.

"I've brought back several garments and some new contracts I was hoping to review with you this evening," I told him, striding away and removing my hat which Bonnie appeared beside me in an instant to retrieve.

"Oh," he said, voice falling. "This evening?"

I turned back to him from where I had been watching Anne who now stared up at a painting my father had purchased at an auction years ago, raising a brow.

"You have plans?" I asked.

"I- um, yes. It's, er, tonight is Charlotte's engagement party. Anne thought, well, rather she asked me to invite you. You've been so kind to us and, well, the whole of society is invited so really you already are but–"

"No."

He blinked at me but I could not hide the way my jaw ticked at the news. An engagement party. For them.

"Boss, I–" Sam started.

"No," I repeated, firmer this time, drawing Anne's attention from where she lingered in the foyer.

She turned to me, her keen eyes catching every breath, every movement, as I made every effort to calm myself, to appear unaffected as I took a breath and loosened my jaw.

"I will not attend," I said with a note of finality. "You go ahead and go, Sam. They are to be your family. You should be there. Business can wait until the morning. I've had a long journey and could use the rest anyway."

My tone was lighter, too light. They noticed. Sam glanced once at Anne before looking back to me and giving a nod.

"I should go and get ready," he said carefully. "Liza should be here any moment. I told her I would be working up until it was time to leave."

I nodded and the boy strode off down the hall toward wherever he had stashed his evening attire. I turned away, hiding my face from Anne as I took a deep, controlled breath intended to calm myself even further. An engagement party. No, I would not be attending that. Not even if my life depended on it.

"Are you alright?" a soft, feminine voice asked.

I closed my eyes and heaved another breath before turning to face her with a smile.

"Just fine," I assured her. "If you'll follow Bonnie, she can get you settled in your room. If you have need of me, I'll be in mine."

Not very hospitable but I needed a moment alone to sort through my thoughts, to come to terms with everything Sam had said. An engagement party to celebrate the love they had for each other, the love that she had never felt for me. It was another shot to my heart, another crack in my already cleaved apart chest. But it shouldn't be. When wouldn't it be? When would I finally be rid of her, over her? When would I be able to attend a ball or a party without fearing every moment that I might see her? When would I be able to resist the urge to approach her when I did? When would my heart cease to ache every time I saw him by her side, every time she looked up at him and smiled or he brushed his fingers along her arm?

I did what I had lately begun to do whenever thoughts of Charlotte resurfaced, forcing those old, painful feelings to rise up within me once again. I threw myself into my work. I unpacked my things, laying the garments carefully across my bed, examining the contracts with the perfumeries at my desk. Sixty bottles of each to start, more to be ordered as a restock later on. We would need to keep track of which was selling the most, which were loved, which were avoided and manage our inventory accordingly. I would need a shopkeeper I could trust. Perhaps Sam knew of other men his age searching for employment, somewhere to make a name for themselves. For now, Sam and I could run the shop ourself but eventually if we grew the way I was anticipating, the way I hoped.

I was halfway through a set of elaborate notes regarding a plan for marketing our new inventory when I heard the front door open and close, a polite, friendly greeting being spoken to the maid by a young woman's voice, and the clicking of heels on the marble floors. I swiped the garments from my bed and took the stairs two at a time until I had descended into the foyer myself. I found Liza and Sam standing in the drawing room, the former helping the latter with his tie. Sam blushed at having been caught needing her assistance as I rounded the corner, lush fabrics tucked beneath my arm. The boy would need to be taught the proper way to tie a tie if he intended to work in men's fashion. But that would come later.

"Mr. Keene," Liza beamed in greeting as she stepped away from Sam, patting his tie once to ensure it was stable.

"Camden, please," I replied and she smiled as I reached for the men's shirt I held under my arm and handed it to her. "I bought these while I was in France. They each have some form of embellishment that I had never seen before. This one has a marvelous pattern of stitching that is rather unique while also having the added benefit of seeming far more sturdy than a simple stitch."

Liza reached out and took the fabric in her hands, running the seams between her fingers as she gazed down at the piece.

"It's beautiful," she said with a sigh and I thought, perhaps, she might truly mean it.

"Is it something you can replicate?" I asked. "Or at least create your own version of? Something strong, something unique?"

She cocked her head to the side, considering.

"It can be done," she told me. "I've got a few ideas. I would have to try them and see which works best."

"What does your current position pay?"

Her gaze snapped to mine and she blinked, stunned.

"I- I don't–" she stuttered and I understood why. Liza was prim, proper, raised to cower before the wealthy, to lower her gaze so as to appear demure, unthreatening. She knew that it was inappropriate to discuss money, particularly salary, and especially with a man of my means.

"Boss?" Sam asked from behind the woman he courted, coming to her rescue.

"I'll double it," I told her. "Whatever it is."

She gaped up at me, lips parting in surprise.

"Sam says you're the best," I explained. "And, while I understand that he's quite biased when it comes to you, I also know that he has an eye for quality and a penchant for good business. So I trust him. Be my head seamstress, my designer. I will allow full creative control over the textile inventory of my brand. Though I do get the final say, of course."

"I- you would let me design for you?" she asked, obviously stunned, her jaw dropped in surprise. Even Sam's eyes were wide behind her.

"I can think of no one better for the job," I said.

"I-I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

She smiled at that, releasing the fabric so that it fell back to my side.

"Okay," she agreed with a nod and a wide grin. "Yes."

"Excellent. I'll have the remaining bolts of silk, as well as these garments, sent to you. Study them, create designs, and bring them to me for approval. If this works as well as I think it will, we will have inventory to sell by this time next month."

They both stared at me in shock for a significant moment before Sam stepped forward, pure joy in his eyes.

"Boss, this is–" he started but, because I knew where he was going with this, the gratitude that he was about to pour onto me that I surely didn't deserve, I interrupted him.

"The two of you should be going," I said, gathering up the garments back into my arms. "You don't want to be late."

My words seemed to snap them out of a trance and they nodded, backing away from me and stepping towards the door, still in a delirious daze. Sam took Liza's arm and led her through the foyer and to the door. But she looked back at me once before fading from view, a grateful, beaming smile on her lips that made every risk I had taken, every hour of shopping in France, utterly worth it. It felt good to do good. If that had been a concept my father could understand, perhaps I wouldn't be in the position I was.