Page 62 of Doxy for the Ton
“And His Grace has recommended my establishment to you?” Madame Deliet said. “C’est correctement?”
“I did, Madame,” Alexander said, “but sadly you were too busy to help Lady Rex when she paid you a visit.”
“But I ’ave never seen Lady Rex,” the modiste said, her accent thickening. “I would ’ave remembered such a beauty, no?”
Alexander cringed at the sycophancy in her tone. Why had he never noticed it before?
“You were occupied with serving Miss Francis at the time, Madame Deliet,” Mimi said, “though you were kind enough to notify me several times that your gowns were very expensive.”
Alexander smiled to himself as the onlookers whispered to each other and the modiste cringed. And well she might—it was the height of bad form to openly discuss the price of a gown. Evenheknew that.
“Lady Rex came here onmyrecommendation,” Alexander said, “so I consider myself responsible for any slight she may have suffered here, however unintentional.”
“I cannot recall saying such a thing,” the modiste said.
“Can you not?” Mimi said, sweetly. “‘Chaque robe est très cher,’ I believe you said.”
Heavens!Did Mimi speak French?
Alexander glanced at the modiste, who stepped back, her eyes widening.
“What was that you said, Lady Rex?” he asked.
“I spoke in Madame’s mother tongue,” Mimi replied. “Perhaps you’d care to translate, Madame Deliet?”
Fear shimmered in the modiste’s eyes. She reached for her measuring tape and entwined it around her forefinger. “I-I did not say… I mean, I’m afraid your accent is—”
“I quite understand,” Mimi said. “The Parisian accent can be a little difficult to understand.”
The modiste opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again, her eyes widening. “I—I…”
“It matters not, Madame Deliet,” Mimi said, a sparkle in her eyes. “I secured the services of another modiste. Twelve day dresses and eight evening gowns—she’s quite the marvel.”
“D-do I know her?” Madame Deliet asked.
“Possibly,” Mimi replied. “She’s one of your countrywomen.”
“Is she?”
“Oh yes,” Mimi said. “She’s as French asyouare.”
The modiste shifted from one foot to another, her expression that of a schoolboy caught with his hands in the sweetmeats, and Alexander’s heart soared at the continued mirth in Mimi’s eyes.
“Lady Rex’s new modiste is rather exclusive,” he said, “so you may not have heard of her. But her work is of exceptional quality.”
“As is mine, Your Grace,” Madame Deliet said. “Perhaps Lady Rex would permit me to fashion a gown for her. I have some new silks in that are just perfect.”
“How very kind,” Mimi said, “but I couldn’t possibly.”
“Consider it a gift, Lady Rex,”
“I couldn’t accept it,” Mimi said. “It would be akin to accepting charity, and as you made very clear when I was first here, you’re not in the business of running acharitable establishment.”
This time there was no mistaking the modiste’s discomfort. Her mouth opened and she let out a whimper.
“I think, Lady Rex, it’s time to continue shopping,” Alexander said, holding out his arm. Mimi took it, and he escorted her out of the shop, the bell tinkling as he closed the door behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the modiste staring after them, her mouth still wide open.
“Forgive me,” he said after they’d walked a few paces.
