Page 42 of Doxy for the Ton
“You’re very kind, but I have no wish to visit a modiste’s shop again,” Mimi said. “I’ve engaged a dressmaker who seems capable, and I’d rather patronize someone based on merit than their position in Society.”
“Bravo!” the duchess said. “You must permit me to send her a bolt of silk for your gowns.”
Mimi glanced at the duchess’s gown—the smooth, exquisitely colored silk—fighting to conquer her longing.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Grace,” she said. “I couldn’t accept charity.”
The duchess frowned. “It’s not charity,” she said, and Mimi almost detected a hint of shyness in her voice. “I’d like to think it a gift—from a friend.”
“Y-you consider me a friend?”
“You have endured my company today—a guest uninvited”—she gestured to the dish of cinnamon—“acceded to my demands, and weathered my foibles. Is that not the mark of a friend?”
She leaned forward, fixing her emerald gaze on Mimi.
“I know what it’s like to be an outsider—a misfit.” She made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, I understand that most admire my rank. But my rank belongs to my husband. Any deference is due to him and him alone. But as to my essence—what truly defines me asme—I’m as much an outsider in Society as a…”
“As a doxy masquerading as the widow of a knight?”
The duchess’s eyes narrowed, but to her credit, she gave no sign of disgust. She merely nodded.
“I see no doxy,” she said, “just as I hope you don’t merely see a duchess. I think you and I are capable of looking beneath the façade and appreciating the person inside.” She rose. “Forgive me—I’ve a rather unfortunate habit of talking too much on some subjects, and not at all on others. I’ve trespassed too much on your time already, and will bid you good day. If you are not averse to it, I should like to call on you again—and you are of course welcome to visit me at any time. I’ve left my card in your hallway.”
She offered her hand, and for a moment, Mimi stared at it. Then, trembling, she took it, and the duchess curled her long, lean fingers over Mimi’s.
“Thank you, Duchess,” Mimi said. “I would be delighted.”
The duchess smiled, and her dark gaze filled with light, as if the sun had emerged from behind a thundercloud. Mimi understood what must have captivated the duchess’s husband—she had never seen such intensity of warmth and intelligence in another creature.
“Call me Eleanor,” the duchess said.
“And call me Jemima,” Mimi said, before she could stop herself. Then she caught her breath. “Oh—I-I didn’t mean to say… I mean—nobody calls meJemima. I’m known as Mimi—hecalls me Mimi.”
Eleanor nodded, understanding in her eyes. There was no need to explain whohewas.
“You can trust me with your name,” she said. “May I, in turn, give you some advice?”
Mimi nodded.
“Guard your heart, Jemima,” Eleanor said. “I know the pain of loving another with no guarantee of that love being returned. I must respect Sawbridge as my husband’s friend, but—due to an unfortunate incident—his reputation is not favorable.”
“I know,” Mimi said.
“Then I trust you stand to gain as much as he will from your…relationship. I fear that he sees women as disposable commodities.”
“Doesn’t every man?”
“There are a few notable exceptions,” Eleanor said, “but the greatest mistake a woman can make is to assume that a heart lies within the body of the rakehell—only to discover the truth when it’s too late. I only counsel you because when the truth is revealed, it’s the woman who pays the price.”
“I know,” Mimi said, “and it’s a price I have never been willing to pay.”
“Then I wish you success,” Eleanor replied. She let out a soft laugh. “Perhaps now you understand why Sawbridge was reluctant for me to visit you.”
“Nevertheless, I’m very glad you came.”
“So am I.”
Mimi escorted the duchess out. Then, on impulse, she embraced her new friend before Eleanor climbed into the waiting carriage.
