Page 38 of Doxy for the Ton
“Mrs. Hodge, evenyoumust understand the need for propriety,” the butler retorted.
“Yes, but there’s no need further the cause with such a heavy hand.” Mrs. Hodge turned to Mimi. “My nephew tells me your visit to the modiste was not a success.”
“It seems as if I’m not the type of customer Madame Deliet wishes to serve,” Mimi said.
“I feared as much. The duke ought to have accompanied you himself instead of gallivanting about town. Men! They knownothing.” Mrs. Hodge glared at the butler, who remained stoic apart from a faint reddening of his cheeks. “Go and see to the wine cellar,” she said.
Wheeler bowed and exited the study, and the housekeeper took the seat he’d vacated.
“What am I to do?” Mimi asked. “The duke insisted on my having new gowns.”
“Then he should have accompanied you,” the housekeeper said gently. “Would you likemeto ask him?”
“And have him know that Madame Deliet doesn’t think me good enough for her establishment? No, I couldn’t bear that. He might not want to keep—”
Mimi broke off, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air.
He might not want to keep me.
A warm hand took hers. “He’s gone to a lot of trouble to settle you here, my dear, and he’ll want you looking your best. I might have a solution.”
“I cannot go back there,” Mimi said. “If he accompanies me, it’ll only make it worse, for they’ll know I’m his…”
“Do not speak it,” Mrs. Hodge said. “We should never allow ourselves to be defined by what we’re compelled to do for a living.”
Mimi’s cheeks heated under the housekeeper’s scrutiny. “I-I know I must dress appropriately.”
“Might I suggest a solution?”
“Please—anything.”
“My cousin Peg’s a seamstress—a dressmaker, really, though she has yet to have an establishment of her own. But she’s so talented. See this?” Mrs. Hodge gestured to the lacework on her neckline. “Made with her own fingers, that was—I couldn’t afford to buy lace this fine.”
Mimi glanced at the lace tuck, the intricate floral pattern, and caught her breath at the memory of another lace tuck—a gift from a man from another period in her life, the finest lace from Flanders. A gift she had long since lost, along with everything else. She blinked and wiped away the tears that threatened to fall.
“Give Peg a chance, ma’am,” Mrs. Hodge said.
“Would the duke approve?”
“He’d approve of the cost—my Peg would give you three gowns at half the price of one of Madame Deliet’s. And she’ll come to you. I could send Charles for her today, if you like.”
“Wouldn’t she object to making gowns for a…”
“For the widow of a knight?” Mrs. Hodge shook her head. “My Peg’s not one to judge another by their rank. She judges a person by their deeds.”
“Then,” Mimi said, “if it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you could send for her. I find myself in need of the company of those who do not think less of me for what I am.”
The housekeeper rose and approached the door, then she turned and smiled.
“You’ll be the prettiest widow in town,” she said. “If he doesn’t fall in love with you, then he’s a fool. Now—how about that tea? I’ll have it brought to the parlor.”
Mimi nodded, and the housekeeper exited the study.
If he doesn’t fall in love with you, then he’s a fool.
She let out a bitter laugh.
“Mrs. Hodge, you’re the biggest fool of all if you believe him capable of falling in love,” she said to the empty room.
