Page 63 of The Duchess’ Modiste

He had dressed well for the event, and it distracted her. His black suit was tapered from his shoulders to his narrow waist, and the dark green waistcoat he wore was embroidered with golden swirls. She admired it, letting her eyes wander.

“Only a modiste would admire my clothes at this time,” Leo said with humor. Chloe snapped her eyes away from his waistcoat, knowing she was admiringhimrather than the clothes. “Now, I felt for sure that would get a smile of some sort. I am failing in my efforts to cheer you up, clearly.”

Chloe didn’t answer but took another sip.

“Let me try another way then.” He took a second glass and poured out a brandy for himself. “Would you like to hear instead about my escapade on the way here and why I am late?”

“Go on,” Chloe said, finding herself intrigued.

“I fell face first into my carriage,” Leo spoke with humor. “It was so sudden that I managed to knock my poor footman over and spook the horse into running away. Now, surely that will make you laugh.”

Chloe smiled at him, wondering how he had managed to lighten her mood so easily.

“Did that really happen or are you just saying that to make me smile?”

“Does it matter either way?” he asked. “As long as you are smiling.” He gestured to her with the glass. “See? There are still reasons to smile in this world.”

“I know, it’s just . . .” She paused and held up one hand, her fingers splayed, showing how hopeless the situation felt to her. “A few days ago, my dream felt like it was becoming a reality. Now that dream is gone, like it has vanished into the air around us.”

Chloe could not discern Leo’s expression. That intensity was there again, and it made her fidget self-consciously, lifting her brandy glass to her lips. When Chloe felt the tears threaten, so aware of the emptiness of the room, their stances changed.

Leo turned to face the drinks table, so their backs were to the room, and she copied him.

“Do not cry,” he whispered to her. “I’ll have to go searching for another handkerchief to give you if you do.”

“I still have your last one.”

“Keep it.” He assured her with a smile. “Come here, I promise you, everything will be well.” He placed down his glass on the table in front of them, then took her free hand, threading it through his arm so that it rested on the crook of his elbow. Then, he placed his hand over hers. For a brief second, his fingers slipped against Chloe’s own. Even though she was wearing gloves, she could feel a warmth in that touch. “You know you can rely on me, don’t you? No matter what happens, I will help you through this. I give you my vow on that.”

Chloe blinked, staring at him.

Oh, my goodness. I am so in love with him.

The thought hit her strongly as she stared at him. Here he was, pledging to help her. Out of everyone in the room,hewas the one she had wanted to be beside.Hewas the person she wanted to lean on in this way. His fingers slid a little more against her own. It was an intimate moment, as if they were truly alone in the ballroom.

“Chloe?” Maeve’s voice broke the spell. Chloe was about to release Leo’s arm, but she was pleased to see he didn’t let her. Instead, they turned round together, facing Maeve as she approached.

Maeve looked nervous, chewing her lip.

“This is worse than I feared,” she began rather slowly.

“Indeed, it is.” Chloe agreed, taking another sip of her brandy. “I thank you for the ball, Maeve, truly I do, but by this point, we all know no one else is coming.”

Maeve looked to the Duke at the window, clearly hoping he was about to turn round and declare that a myriad of carriages had appeared, but he did no such thing. He just leaned both elbows on the windowsill, staring out at the drive.

“Yes, no one else is coming,” Maeve said eventually, then stepped closer. “Chloe, there is something you must know. I didn’t want to say it earlier, because I was hoping that this evening would change things, but clearly, I was wrong, and I now must speak of what happened to me yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Leo said before Chloe could. “What happened?”

“I went to a tea party held by one of our friends,” Maeve spoke very quickly, as if determined to reveal her news as fast as possible. “Whilst I was there, your name was mentioned. People were saying I needed to find myself a new modiste. More than anything, Chloe, their conversation concerned one thing.” She paused, clearly growing more nervous.

“Oh, Maeve, I have heard so much bad news as of late, I am sure I can take more. Imagine me to be made of pewter if you will. I will not dent.” Chloe spoke with more confidence than she felt. She suspected Leo could see through it, from the way his arm tightened around her hand.

“They spoke of the rumors of you charming men, Chloe,” Maeve said, her whisper so quiet Chloe had to strain to hear it. “The things they said were really quite improper. It seems the rumors will not be stopped. They are quite determined to believe that you have exchanged favors with gentlemen for the sake of your business.”

Chloe struggled for words. Somehow, she had hoped that people would know such an obscene claim was madness, yet the rumor seemed to have claimed a life of its own.

When Leo’s arm loosened from Chloe’s hand, she felt a little sick. He released her and glanced away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her again.

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