Page 64 of The Duchess’ Modiste

Oh my God . . . is he starting to believe it?

This time, Chloe knew she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears.

“If you would excuse me, I must go home.” She hurried off before Maeve could stop her.

Chapter 23

Chloe

“Goodbye, Gretchen, I’m so sorry.” Chloe embraced the seamstress another time, aware that the young woman held onto her rather tightly.

“I am sorry, Miss Chloe. I truly thought this would be a special place.” Gretchen stepped back and looked around the shop. Already dressed in her spencer jacket with a bag under her arm containing her tools of the trade, she was ready to leave. “I will miss it here. You are the best mistress I’ve ever had.”

“You are kind to say such a thing.” Chloe smiled at her friend. “Do come back and see me, won’t you? I’ll enjoy hearing about all the ways your next mistress is not as good as me.” She jested, trying her best to lighten the moment. Gretchen laughed softly then picked up her bonnet from the counter and hurried to put it on her head.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“You too, my dear.”

Chloe waved the young woman out of the shop. She stood in the doorway, waving for some time, until the woman disappeared through the crowds in Covent Garden. Rain was beginning to fall, and more than one person was trying to shield under the eaves of nearby buildings or run into shops in order to hide from that rain, but they did not stop at Chloe’s shop. She noticed how they avoided her shop completely, casting nervous glances her way when they spotted her standing at the door. Soon enough, Chloe retreated inside.

Her movements made the bell above the door ring. When the door closed, she turned and leaned upon it, staring at the empty shop. There was not a soul here, and no person had entered in the four days since the attempted ball at Maeve’s house.

“No one will come again,” Chloe whispered with a miserable tone and stepped away from the door. She tried to tidy the shop, to busy herself by doing something, but it didn’t work. Soon enough, she simply grew angry at how her dream had failed and dropped a particularly fine bolt of lace in that anger. Hurrying behind the counter, she found her stool and plopped heavily into it, with her eyes darting around the empty shop.

She’d had to let Gretchen go. She didn’t want to, but with no money coming in and letters being sent to cancel orders, Chloe had no choice. She couldn’t afford to keep Gretchen anymore. The emptiness of the shop was only exacerbated by the fact that for the last four days, her usual visitor had been absent.

Reaching beneath the counter, Chloe pulled out the sketchbook Leo had given her. She looked over a few sketches and even tried to begin another design. When she found herself creating a swirling golden pattern on the gown, the exact same one that had been on Leo’s waistcoat at the ball, she shut the sketchbook rather loudly. There was no one there to make jump though. In fact, it was the only sound in the shop at all.

“Where is he?” Chloe demanded to the open air, as if it would somehow answer her.

At the ball, Leo had promised he would be there for her. His vow had meant more to her than she could ever utter with words, yet mere seconds later he had removed his arm from hers and not come to see her since. She kept dreading that after Maeve’s revelation, he might have started to believe the rumors.

Oh, just the thought makes me feel sick!

Chloe abandoned her counter and crossed the shop. Heading for the door, she turned over the sign, closing the shop. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day and a strange time to close up. She was hardly going to have any customers now.

Hurrying to find a spencer jacket and a bonnet, soon, she left the shop. She was quickly coming to the conclusion her business would have to be abandoned for good, but for now, there was someone she needed to see. Someone who was making her heart ache because he would not come to see her.

She walked across town, not bothering to hail down a carriage for rent, and preferring to walk in the rain. Soon enough, her bonnet was damp, and the skirt of her gown grew so wet that it began to stick to her legs. Doing her best to ignore her discomfort and the way the rain ran off her cheeks and shoulders, she headed for Leo’s apartment.

She managed to make it inside and up the stairs, where she left great streaking puddles of water behind her, before reaching the door. She knocked softly at first, but there was no answer. She knocked again, growing a little more impatient with each sound, but it was no use.

Either Leo wasn’t there, or he was not answering. When tears threatened to mix with the rain drops, Chloe sniffed and did her best to push them away, at least until she was out in the rain. This time, she waved down a nearby carriage and paid for it to take her back to the shop.

Once she was inside, she peeled off her wet clothes, but was distracted enough not to bother to light candles when darkness fell outside. She kept pacing the room, deep in thought at what she was going to do next. Eventually, she lit a candle, and in lieu of anything else to do, she decided to write to her friend. Leaning on a table by that candle, her handwriting was quite scruffy in her effort to get the words out.

Dearest Maeve,

I am sorry for the state of my letter. As you can imagine, things are not going well at the shop, and I fear it is time for me to close it for good.

I wished to speak to Leo on the matter, and to see him. There was a time when he came to visit me nearly every day, but he has not come since the ball. When I went to see him this evening, I could not find him.

Pray, tell me if you can, do you know where Leo is? Is he well?

Your loving friend,

Chloe.

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