Page 30 of Doxy for the Ton
“He’ll take care of you, Lady Rex,” she said. “Now, I ought to be getting on—I’ve a host of young girls to interview about the remaining positions, if you’ll excuse me?”
“Of course,” Mimi said. “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Hodge. I didn’t expect it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t my dear,” the housekeeper said, taking her hand. “And I hope, with all my heart, that you’ll be happy here.”
She placed her hand on Mimi’s cheek.
“Not just content,” she said, “buthappy.”
*
“Here we are,ma’am.”
Charles gestured to the white-fronted building with a paneled window that bowed outward, through which Mimi could see an elaborate display of flowers set against a backdrop of cream-colored silk.
“It looks like a florist’s,” she said. Then she glanced upward to the sign over the door, displaying the wordmodistein large black letters, and to the side, in a cursive hand, the inscriptionMme. Deliet.
Mimi approached the window, her stomach churning at the display—roses and orchids of every conceivable color. It exuded wealth and ostentation. Not a single petal was out of place, and each one looked as fresh as the day of first blooming.
By comparison, her gown and cloak—a housekeeper’s hand-me-downs—looked shabby and worn.
How the devil could she even begin to belong here?
“Ma’am? Shall I accompany you inside?”
“Thank you, Charles,” Mimi said, “that would be most kind.”
He pushed open the door, a bell tinkling overhead, and Mimi followed.
The interior was even more ostentatious than the window display. Row upon row of silks lined one wall, and a display of ribbons, trays of buttons, beads, and jewels adorned another. The shop was larger than it appeared from the outside, stretching toward the back, where two ladies stood, deep in conversation. They turned to face Mimi as she entered.
The taller of the two, with a cascade of blonde curls and eyes the color of ice, drew in a sharp breath, while the other, with pale-red hair and acrid green eyes, wrinkled her nose.
“Tradesmen enter at the back,” she said in a sharp, brittle voice.
“I’m here to see Madame Deliet,” Mimi began.
“Well of course you are!” The blonde woman turned to her companion. “Do you hear that? She’s here to see Madame Deliet!”
“Which of you is she?” Mimi asked.
“Sweet heaven—what sort of riffraff is Madame having to deal with these days?” the second exclaimed.
“Areneitherof you Madame Deliet?”
The blonde woman rolled her eyes and let out a sharp huff. “Do welooklike tradespeople? I’m the Honorable Sarah Francis.”
“Now, Sarah,” the redhead said, “you mustn’t be too hard on this…” She cast her gaze over Mimi’s form, the contempt in her eyes eliciting more shame in Mimi’s heart than she’d felt when standing naked before Sawbridge’s valet. “This—person,” the redhead said, at length. “Given her apparel, one can hardly expect her to discern the difference between a modiste and a baron’s daughter.”
Iama baron’s daughter.
“Perhaps, my dear,” the Honorable Sarah said, “you had better return another time.”
“Or not at all,” her companion added.
“Now, Elizabeth, we mustn’t be uncharitable. This poor creature lacks understanding, given that she brought afootmaninto the shop.”
Blushing, Charles sidled toward the door.
