In the Barrister's Chambers by Tina Gabrielle

shop.
    Bells on the milliner’s door chimed as Evelyn stepped inside. From the outside, the shop appeared small, and indeed it was narrow, but it had considerable depth.
    Evelyn wound her way through rows of display stands, holding everything from bonnets with dyed ostrich plumes to straw hats trimmed with ribbon streamers and artificial flowers, to gaudy jewel-studded turbans. Throughout the shop, expensively dressed ladies tried on hats and peered at their reflections in cheval glass mirrors.
    Never one to be obsessed with fashion like many of her acquaintances of the ton, Evelyn’s awareness of her attire had been heightened after her father inherited his title. Now the daughter of an earl, she was well aware of the importance of dressing the part.
    A particular bonnet caught her eye. Periwinkle blue, with a ruched silk lining, it had a wide brim and ribbon edge. Beside it was a silk parasol with matching periwinkle fringe and a cane handle. The bonnet and parasol were exquisite and would be just the thing for walking in Hyde Park to shield her fair skin from the summer sun.
    Evelyn reached for the hat, and her fingers caressed the fine material. Again an unbidden image of Jack Harding returned, and she pondered how he would react to seeing her in such finery. With the memory of his kiss, heat flooded her face. She remembered his lips, firm yet soft, and the tantalizing taste of his mouth. He was everything she had ever fantasized as an awkward girl and more . . . so much more.
    She had desperately wanted to stand on tiptoe and press her body close to his, wanted to sink her fingers into his hair and then run her hands over his broad shoulders. It was as if he had drugged her, taken her will and turned it against her. Instead of being outraged at his demand for a kiss, as a true lady should have been, she had wildly wondered how she had compared to his other conquests, for surely there had been many.
    Evelyn sighed, touching her lips with her finger, reliving the kiss in her mind.
    An elderly matron with iron gray curls walked past, and the overpowering smell of her perfume wafted to Evelyn. When Evelyn looked up, the woman frowned as if she could read the inappropriate thoughts that passed through Evelyn’s mind. Evelyn’s finger dropped from her mouth, her gaze returning to the bonnet in her hands.
    What was she doing?
    It was one kiss. It was a mistake. And it would never happen again. Lust was meaningless and hardly the basis for a good future. The intellectual and respectful bond that she shared with Randolph Sheldon was irreplaceable and priceless. She refused to allow one kiss and a foolish childhood infatuation to distract her from her plans.
    She made to return the blue silk bonnet to its stand, when a masculine voice came from behind.
    â€œEvelyn.”
    She started and whirled around. “Simon! What are you doing here?”
    He smiled and reached out to clasp her hand. “I’ve been searching for you, Evelyn.”
    Evelyn’s eyes widened as she stared at Simon Guthrie in astonishment. Simon was Randolph Sheldon’s closest friend, and Evelyn had immediately taken a liking to him. Simon was also a University Fellow at Oxford, but whereas Randolph was her father’s Fellow, Simon labored under another professor. Of medium height and dark-haired, his narrow face looked older than his years. His brown eyes were sincere under drawn brows and he smiled reassuringly, showing straight teeth.
    Simon pulled her behind a tall stack of mahogany drawers. Leaning close, he lowered his voice. “Randolph sent me.”
    Evelyn found her voice. “Where is he? Is he well?”
    â€œHe’s fine. But he needs your help.”
    â€œI need to know where Randolph is.”
    â€œHe’s in a small house in Shoreditch.”
    â€œShoreditch!” Evelyn’s thoughts whirled like leaves in a strong wind. On the outskirts of London, in the County of Middlesex, Shoreditch was