Page 51 of Doxy for the Ton
It was as if she were staring at her true self, stripped bare.
“It’s—” Mimi broke off.
“It’s how I see you,” Eleanor said. “Most subjects want me to depict them as they wish to be seen, not as I see them.”
“And you didn’t think to depict me as I wish to be seen?”
“You’ll be doing that yourself when you enter Society,” Eleanor said. “Your new gowns will depict you as a lady, to be admired by all—and youshallbe admired. But I wanted to capture the woman I’ve come to know.”
“You know me after so short an acquaintance?” Mimi asked.
“A brief acquaintance doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of understanding of another person,” Eleanor said. “I have known the Honorable Sarah Francis for at least two years, and I confess I have no more understanding of her than I had the day I was first subjected to her company. In fact, I believe I understand her less. Whereas you…”
She set the sketchbook aside.
“In you, I saw a like mind. And no matter what happens, or where you find yourself, once your…businessis concluded here, I hope we can remain friends.”
Mimi lowered her gaze, and Eleanor let out a sigh.
“He must have betrayed you so badly, to have destroyed your faith.”
“My faith in men?” Mimi asked.
Eleanor shook her head. “Your faith in the world—and in yourself.”
“The Duke of Sawbridge and I have an arrangement, that’s all,” Mimi said. “We are, to each other, just a means to an end.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I didn’t mean the duke. I meant whoever betrayed you before—the man who drove you into this life.”
“How did you…?”
“I see it in your eyes, Jemima—the scars of treachery,” Eleanor said. “What did he do?”
Mimi let out a sigh. “He died.”
“Did you love him?”
“In my own way, I did,” Mimi said. “He understood that. But…”
“But, like all men, he didn’t understand the plight of women in our world,” Eleanor said. “He believed in his immortality rather than the necessity for practicality.” She tilted her head to one side. “Do you fear recognition?”
“No,” Mimi said. “I’ve never lived in this part of London. When I was his—” She broke off, her cheeks warming. “I-I lived in Brighton.”
“And his family?”
“They wouldn’t recognize me,” Mimi said. “I met his heir only a few times, and…” She swallowed the memory of the pain and loss—the grief for two lives. “I am much changed now.”
Outside the parlor, a clock struck four times, and Eleanor rose. “Forgive me—I’d quite lost track of time. My husband’s expecting me. We have guests for dinner.”
Mimi rose and found herself pulled into an embrace.
“I meant what I said,” Eleanor whispered. “I am your friend. And, for what it’s worth, Sawbridge is a fool for not appreciating what he has. Our world here is the better for having you in it, and don’t let anyone say otherwise. You will find someone to deserve you, Jemima.”
Mimi smiled at her friend’s conviction.
“It matters not if I don’t,” she said. “I’d rather be alone than dependent on someone who doesn’t love me.”
“Very good,” Eleanor said, releasing Mimi and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Then you are safe from heartbreak. Now, take my advice—summon your housekeeper and tell her to hire a lady’s maid.”
