Page 21 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel
Harry shook his head. “Some people just can’t accept when they’re beaten.” He glanced down at her. “Out of interest, where do you getyourclothes made?”
Ellie bristled immediately in suspicion that he was critiquing her attire. “By Miss Macdonald, of Wells Street. Why, is there something wrong with them?”
He tilted his head, the way he’d done when assessing Morris’s coat. “The fit of that dress is acceptable and the style is certainly fashionable.”
“I’m sure Miss Macdonald would agree.”
“But cotton’s such a boring material.”
“It’s practical,” she said, through gritted teeth. “We can’t all have coats made from goat beards.”
“And that blue…” He shook his head sadly. “Too insipid. With your coloring, you should be wearing something more striking.”
“In my line of work, it’s better to blend in than stick out,” she said testily.
“Yes. You do seem to enjoy the role of wallflower. That’s what you were doing last night, at Lady Chessington’s: hiding away in that alcove, content to watch the world dance by, instead of taking part yourself.”
“Is this more of your ‘doing something is better than watching it’ philosophy? What happened to acquiring wisdom by observing? Iwantedto dance, if you must know. But nobody asked me.”
She sounded peevish, even to her own ears.
He shook his head with an amused smile. “It’s perfectly understandable. Deception is an extremely common tactic in the animal world. Blending into one’s surroundings, making yourself next to invisible, is extremely valuable. Believe me, you’re talking to an expert. But there’s also something to be said for allowing yourself tolive,instead of merely survive.” His dimples deepened. “I’ll dance with you next time, Ellie.”
Her heart gave an uncomfortable thump at the promise.
They stopped walking, and he gestured to the window of the shop next to them. It belonged to the seamstress Madame Lefèvre, who’d made dresses for Tess, and Daisy, too, but Ellie had never felt flush enough to order one for herself.
The small glass panes displayed three of the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen, all far more daring and colorful than she’d ever worn. It was impossible not tosecretly imagine herself sweeping down a grand staircase to a round of appreciative murmurs.
She shook her head to dislodge the foolish daydream.
Harry pointed to the most gorgeous dress of the trio, a shimmering emerald-green silk with a neckline that looked scandalously low. “You would look ravishing in that.”
“It’s far too revealing.”
“Not at all. One only needs the confidence to wear it. Every man who saw you would fall instantly at your feet.”
Ellie snorted to hide her embarrassment. “I’d be the one falling over, without my glasses on. And besides, it’s grand enough for a Royal ball. When would I ever get the chance to wear it?”
He shook his head, disappointed yet again by her practicality, and when his carriage appeared at the end of the street, he hailed it with a whistle. It clattered to a stop, and he let down the step and helped her in.
“Was the address you gave to the tailor your real address?” she asked, when they got settled.
“It was.”
“Is there no Lord Cobham who wishes to use his family town house?”
“There may well be, but he hasn’t been seen for over a decade.”
“You mean he’s a recluse?”
“No, I mean he’slost. Disappeared somewhere on the Continent years ago. But since there’s no definitive proof that he’s dead, his relatives have been renting the place out in his absence. It’s fully furnished and extremely convenient.”
Ellie sniffed. “You’d better hope he doesn’t make a sudden reappearance and throw you out.”
Harry shook out the cuffs of his shirt. “Consideringhow long he’s been missing, I’d say that is a very remote possibility indeed.”
“As soon as we get back to the office, I’ll ask Tess and Daisy what they know of Lord Willingham.”