Page 35 of Doxy for the Ton
“Does she have any acquaintance in London?” the duchess asked.
“Not yet.”
“I could introduce her to Lady Arabella,” she said. “She spent some of her childhood in Italy.”
Bugger.
“I don’t think Lady Rex would want—”
“Shouldn’t that be up to Lady Rex to decide? I’d have thought she’d welcome the opportunity to speak to someone who knows something of her former home.”
“Eleanor, my love,” Whitcombe said, “Sawbridge knows Lady Rex better than you.”
“Doyou know her well?” she asked, turning to Alexander.
He glanced at the house into which Mimi had entered, recalling the shuttered expression in her eyes, the coarseness which she had, at first, used as a shield, until her accent had lapsed into that of a lady. His heart twitched at the memory of her smile—the soft smile of contentment that he’d glimpsed as she slept. But he was yet to see that smile when she was awake, buried, as it was, beneath layers of steel.
No. He didn’t know her well—in fact, he didn’t know her at all.
“Perhaps I should pay her a call,” the duchess said.
“Eleanor, why?” Whitcombe asked. “You dislike strangers.”
“Montague, aren’t you always encouraging me to speak to strangers in case I find them to my liking?”
“She may not welcome the intrusion,” Alexander said.
“Shouldn’t she be permitted to decide for herself whether to receive visitors?” the duchess said. “Or is she dependent onyou?”
Alexander shook his head. “She has an independent income.”
The knowledge that he’d lied clung to the air, but if the duchess recognized it, she gave no sign.
“And she chooses to spend her time withyou?” she said. “She must be a remarkable woman. I look forward to knowing her better.”
“Eleanor…”
“No, Montague. I’m determined.”
There was no deterring her. Duchess Whitcombe was a contradiction. Most of the time she remained quiet, especially at parties. But when a subject interested her, she could be neither silenced, nor deterred.
Alexander knew enough of the tenacity of women—this woman in particular—that the very last thing he should do was warn her off. It would only pique her interest further.
But if Mimi were to enter Society, Alexander could think of none better to make her acquaintance. Duchess Whitcombe had the kindest soul in England. She wouldn’t punish Mimi for her association with him.
He leaned back in his seat. “Duchess, I’ve no objection to your visiting Lady Rex. She may welcome the company.”
She arched an eyebrow, then nodded. “That’s settled. I’ll call on her later this afternoon.”
Damn. He’d wanted to visit Mimi today—but the last thing he needed was to be caughtin flagrante delictoby Duchess Whitcombe.
After depositing Alexander outside his front door, the carriage circumnavigated the square, then disappeared onto the adjoining street. He glanced across at number sixteen. Perhaps, if he were quick, he could pay Mimi a visit, take his pleasure, and be gone before the duchess returned.
Then the door opened, and his butler appeared at the threshold.
“Ah, Your Grace,” he said. “Your solicitor is here. I believe you’re expecting him.”
Mimi’s bed would have to wait. But Alexander could console himself in the knowledge that the longer the wait, the sweeter the pleasure.
