Page 61 of Doxy for the Ton
Mimi let out a cough and lifted her hand to her mouth. “Do forgive me,” she said. “M-my throat’s a little dry.”
“No wonder, in this cold air,” Lady Walton said. “It’s not good to stand still in such cold weather. Our garden was covered in frost this morning—I fear we’re in for another harsh winter.”
She rattled on, about her tenants and the difficulty of ploughing hard ground—or some such—and the duchess nodded in agreement. Mimi joined the conversation, but her demeanor had changed. Her body seemed stiffer, as if she were a rabbit having sensed danger. And her cheeks—which earlier had a rosy hue—were almost completely devoid of color.
“We’ll not keep you any longer,” Lady Walton said. “Peregrine?”
Her husband took her arm and steered her along the path.
“Oh dear, I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” Duchess Whitcombe said. “I never know when to say the right thing.”
“I’m sure Lady Walton took no offense, my love,” Whitcombe said, “and had she not wished for Sawbridge to attend her ball, she wouldn’t have invited him.”
“Perhaps I ought to refuse,” Mimi said.
“I’ll not allowthat,” the duchess said. “The ball will be all the better for your being there.” She took Mimi by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. “Wear the lilac silk at the ball,” she whispered. “You won’t be in want of dance partners if you do.”
“Dance partners?” Alexander asked.
“You’re not expecting to keep this delightful creature all to yourself, are you, Sawbridge?” Whitcombe said, twisting his lips into a smile. “Ishall expect at least one dance, Lady Rex.”
Before Mimi could respond, Alexander took Mimi’s hand and steered her away, only slowing the pace after they’d navigated the bend in the path and the duke and duchess were out of sight. She said nothing and let him lead her across the park and through another exit. After a while, they turned into St. James Street, and he stopped before the familiar shop window with its display of orchids.
“Madame Deliet’s.” Mimi shook her head. “No—no, I’ve no wish to go inside.”
“Do you fear her insults?”
She forced a laugh. “A woman such as I is accustomed to the reception I received from Madame Deliet. But perhaps you wish to take pleasure from witnessing her insult me again.”
His heart twitched at the undertone of sorrow in her voice.
“EvenI’mnot that cruel,” he said. “But I am anxious to settle a matter with Madame, if you’d oblige me.”
She frowned, but complied as he opened the door and steered her inside.
The bell over the door tinkled. Two women in the shadows in the back of the shop looked up, then resumed their attention on a display of ribbons. A third appeared from behind a curtain, a length of measuring tape draped around her neck.
“Le duc de Sawbridge!” she cried, approaching Alexander, hands raised. “What a pleasure to see you again!” She glanced at Mimi. “Ah—have you brought another young lady to be attired in one of my fine gowns? Monsieur, I swear you’re my most loyal customer.”
Meaning the most willing to part with cash.
At the mention of Alexander’s title, the two women in the rear of the shop moved closer, and Alexander recognized Lady Felicia Long and the dowager Countess Billingham—two of the worst gossips of theton.
Excellent.
They eyed him with hostility.
“Ladies—well met,” he said. “May I introduce Lady Rex, recently arrived in town?”
“Lady Rex?” the dowager countess asked.
“Widow of the late Sir John Rex,” Alexander said. “A knight rather than a baronet, but some say that Prinny was considering granting him an earldom. Everyone who’sanyoneknows of Sir John.”
“Oh—thatSir John Rex!” Lady Felicia said, a little too brightly. “I was most distressed to hear of his passing. Were you not, Ellen?”
The dowager countess frowned, then nodded.
“That’s most kind of you,” Mimi said, “though I wasn’t aware the news of his passing had reached London.”
