Page 31 of Doxy for the Ton
“Stay where you are, Charles,” Mimi said. “We’re going nowhere. I’m here to see Madame Deliet, as a customer.”
“Really? And you are?”
“Lady Rex.”
“Lady Rex? And your husband is…?”
“Was. Sir John Rex.”
“A knight, I presume, not a baronet.”
Mimi nodded.
“Yes, I see,” the redhead said. “The regent’s a little more discerning when giving out baronetcies. But it seems thatanyoneis given a knighthood these days.”
“Exactly, Elizabeth. Look at Sir Leonard Howard—parading about the place with his upstart daughters whom we must treat as our equals merely because they married above their station. I mean, that Eleanor is quite the dimwit, yet because she’s a duchess now, we must treat her as our equal.”
“I doubt this Eleanor—whomever she may be—could be consideredyourequal,” Mimi couldn’t help saying.
“Exactly.” Both women nodded, and Mimi suppressed a smile as they missed her meaning.
“At least you appreciateourstation, if not your own,” Sarah said. “Madame is rather discerning when it comes to her clientele—and you wouldn’t want any unpleasantness, would you? You should try elsewhere.”
“But—”
“We’re thinking of your best interests. I’m sure you’d much rather leave this establishment of your own accord.”
“Well, I…” Mimi began, then the curtain at the back of the shop was swept back and a petite woman appeared, dressed in white, her hair an abundance of dark curls.
She held up an array of yellow ribbons.
“Here we are,mes amis!” she cried. “I ’ave found the perfect ribbons for your gowns. You’ll be the belles of all the balls, no? In fact, I said to my niece, only yesterday, that—” She broke off as she spotted Mimi in the doorway. Then she dropped her gaze to Mimi’s feet, and slowly raised it, taking in the thick boots with the scuffed toes, the frayed hem of her gown with the dusting of dirt, the creased skirt, the plain brown woolen cloak, and Mimi’s neck, which lacked any adornment—unlike the other two ladies, whose jeweled necklaces twinkled in the sunlight.
“Who mightyoube?” the modiste said, her accent slipping, and Mimi detected an undercurrent of the flat vowels she’d grown used to during the past five years.
“This is Mrs.…” Sarah began, then shook her head. “Do forgive me—this woman, apparently, isLadyRex.”
“Is she, now?”
“I understand you’re expecting me?” Mimi said.
The modiste wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never heard of you.”
“I’m here to purchase a gown,” Mimi said.
“One doesn’t purchase a gown in my establishment, Mademoiselle…”
“LadyRex,” Mimi said. “My late husband was a friend of—”
The modiste raised her hand. “Pay me the courtesy of letting me finish.”
The redhead leaned toward her companion. “Such incivility to interrupt one’s betters!”
“Quite so, Lady Elizabeth,” the modiste said. “Now, Lady Rex, my clientele do not simplypurchasetheir gowns.” She gestured about the shop. “Do you see any gowns here?”
Mimi shook her head.
“No,madame, you don’t. And do you know why? It’s because the ladies who frequent my establishment purchase my expertise—my services. Each gown I make is created by hand, after establishing a relationship with the lady. And”—she curled her lip in a sneer—“each gown is—what do you English say?—très expensive.”
