Page 11 of One Night of Surrender
The interior of the coach was large, with plush, dark blue velvet seats, but it was still a bit tight for Isabelle and the girls to squeeze together onto the rear-facing seat.The dowager sat on the forward-facing seat, her gaze as keen and assessing as a bird of prey as she surveyed them across the coach.
Once they were situated, Lady Viola, who was next to the dowager, conducted the introductions.“It’s too bad the girls are seated, Grandmama, for they demonstrated excellent curtsies.”
Caroline shook her head.“I didn’t at all.I nearly fell.”
Isabelle touched the girl’s hand, but before she could whisper in her ear to keep such things to herself, the dowager spoke up.“My girl, you shouldn’t say things to denigrate yourself.I didn’t ever need to know that your curtsey was lacking—don’t ever verbalize your failings.Always hold your head high and comport yourself as if you are the most magnificent person in the world.Still, it’s important to master a curtsey.”The dowager gave Isabelle a stern look.“You will ensure she practices two dozen times when you return home.Promise me, now.”
“I, er, promise.”
The dowager narrowed her eyes.“Er?Wherever did you learn to speak?”
“Oxford, Your Grace.”
The dowager looked horrified and then disgusted.“You didn’t attend Oxford.Do you take me for a fool?”
“My father was warden of Merton College.He educated me personally, Your Grace.Please forgive my…failing a moment ago.”
The dowager was quiet a moment, during which Isabelle held her breath.She didn’t particularly want to be on Val’s grandmother’s bad side.Not because she was his grandmother—because really, what did that matter—but because she was one of the most powerful people in Society.On second thought, what did something like that matter to Isabelle?
“You’re bold.I like that.Do not disappoint me.”
“Ignore Grandmama,” Lady Viola said, casting the dowager a look of mock exasperation.“She likes to frighten people.”Leaning forward, she smiled at Beatrice and Caroline.“You mustn’t let her scare you, because she will like you ever so much more.”
The dowager harrumphed.
A few minutes later, they arrived on Bond Street, and their first stop was a linen draper where the dowager planned to select fabric for gowns for herself and Lady Viola.As they departed the coach, the dowager looked down at Beatrice and Caroline.“Do not touchanything.”
The dowager took her granddaughter’s arm and preceded them inside.Caroline leaned toward Beatrice and whispered, “Are you sorry we came yet?If it wasn’t for Gunter’s, I’d ask to return to His Grace’s house.”
“Come, girls, don’t whisper,” Isabelle said, though she couldn’t really fault Caroline’s grievance.
Once they were inside the shop, any irritation the girls felt faded away as they gaped at the display of silks and muslins and velvets.Isabelle stayed close beside them, afraid Caroline wouldn’t be able to help caressing one of the sumptuous fabrics.She also kept an eye on the dowager, whom Lady Viola led to one of the counters.As soon as she situated her grandmother into a chair, she came to Isabelle and the girls.
“Would you like to actually touch some fabric?”Lady Viola asked with a sparkle in her eye.
“Her Grace said we couldn’t,” Caroline said dejectedly.
“Her Grace doesn’t know about the special area.”Lady Viola waggled her pale brows.“Come with me.”She led them to a back corner of the shop.
Curious, Isabelle followed, eager to see why the area was “special.”The answer was soon apparent.
The corner held two boxes: one full of dolls and another of dresses made from fabrics as colorful and rich as those adorning the shop.
Caroline immediately picked up a doll and a dress, then sat in a chair.Beatrice was far more reticent, but Isabelle could see she itched to follow her sister’s lead.
Lady Viola seemed to realize this too.She moved to Beatrice’s side and spoke in a low tone, but loud enough that Isabelle could hear.“I know you’re too old for dolls, but these are for making sample dresses—very small ones.The shop owner puts the dolls and dresses they no longer use over here for their younger clientele.You’re welcome to study the gowns to your heart’s content.”
Beatrice looked up at her, still hesitating, then she glanced toward Isabelle, who gave her a nod of encouragement.Finally, she abandoned her indecision and went to the box of miniature gowns.Withdrawing several, she sat down and sifted through them with care and admiration.
Lady Viola moved to stand next to Isabelle, who thanked her.“How did you know this was here?”
Val’s sister shrugged.“A few years ago, I convinced Mr.Broomall to set up this area for all the miserable children who are dragged along with their mothers.It alleviated many things, not the least of which was protecting his inventory from small hands.”
“I’m sure he was most eager to adopt your idea.”
“It took a bit of persuasion, but eventually, yes.”She gave Isabelle a sheepish look.“I can be rather persistent.Just ask my brother.”
She didn’t have to.Val had told her that Viola was strong-willed and far too clever for her own good.It seemed age had only honed those characteristics.What Isabelle didn’t understand was why Lady Viola was unmarried.She was beautiful, smart, charming, and from one of England’s finest families.
