Page 8 of Of Lies and Earls (Inglorious Scoundrels #2)
“ E ntertaining the master of the house is not part of my duties,” Honoria said as they entered the modiste shop. “Not at home, and certainly not during outings.”
“I never said it was,” Lady Somerville intoned dismissively. “I merely suggested my nephew would feel more at ease around someone he knows and trusts. The theater runs for hours. I’ll be exchanging gossip with my old friends, and Caldwell would be bored out of his mind without someone to talk to. You know how awkward he is around people he doesn’t know, and that will be the majority of people in the theater. Yet another reason why you, my dear Miss Hart, make a far better companion for the theater outing than the governess—who, while admirable, as far as I know communicates with the earl through you. Which means he won’t be as comfortable with her. You know him, dear. And that means you will be better company. Besides,” she added with a little shrug, “the children seem to adore you as well.”
“My lady, what an unexpected honor.” Madame Deville, a tall, graceful woman with an elaborate chignon—her gray hairs elegantly threaded among darker locks—greeted them with a deep curtsey and a faint French accent. She looked upon Lady Somerville with such awe that one might think royalty had graced her shop.
“Right, yes.” Lady Somerville gave a distracted wiggle of her fingers before pushing past the madam toward a rack of fabrics. “In any case, it is not up for discussion. Now, let’s see what we can find for our darling Elise. Look at you.” She tipped Elise’s chin up with her fingers, beaming. “Such a beautiful face. We must have bright colors to make you shine.”
Honoria still reeled from the notion that she was expected to be seen in society! Preposterous. Surely Lord Caldwell would intervene and arrange for a more appropriate chaperone for Elise.
Yes, he struggled around unfamiliar people and trusted her, but… she was a housekeeper . A housekeeper!
She was not meant to be parading about at the theater with her employer, dressed in silks and—
She paused, her hand brushing the lush fabrics displayed around the shop. Her fingers lingered, savoring the softness against her skin, so different from the coarse serge of her daily garb.
“We’re here to outfit Miss Elise Stephenson with a proper wardrobe,” Lady Somerville said quickly. “She’ll need day dresses, evening gowns, walking dresses, and perhaps something suitable for the theater. She is not out in society yet, so no ball gowns, and make the cuts appropriately modest. I would like bright pastel colors, like the sun and the orchids. Oh, it will be just wonderful on you, don’t you think?”
Elise’s fingers twisted nervously at her midsection. “I don’t know, I have never worn such colors,” she said cautiously.
Lady Somerville waved a dismissive hand. “That is exactly the point! You’ll be wearing the most exquisite things!”
Honoria noticed Elise’s discomfort and stepped forward slightly. “Perhaps Elise would like to see some examples first?” she offered cautiously, then turned to Madame Deville. “Do you have the latest fashion plates?”
The modiste raised her brow, clearly assessing Honoria’s position in this party. Rightfully coming to a conclusion that Honoria was of no importance, Madame Deville turned back to Lady Somerville, waiting for her instructions.
“Well,” Lady Somerville said with a sharp tone. “Didn’t you hear the question?”
“Absolutely, absolutely,” Madame Deville replied hastily. “Here, please, take a seat. My seamstress will bring you some tea, and you can leaf through the newest catalogue.”
As they sat down, Elise eagerly looked through the fashion plates.
Lady Somerville took a sip of tea. “See? You are the best company for Elise. No wonder Caldwell insisted on you joining us today. You know their minds best. And there should be no wonder I am selecting you to join us at the theater.”
“My lady—”
“End. Of. Discussion.” Lady Somerville pointedly turned away. “Madame Deville, we also need a couple of gowns for Miss Hart here.”
“Please, I could never accept—”
“You are not going to embarrass Elise by accompanying her in your housekeeper attire, are you?” Lady Somerville made a face.
Honoria swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Something modest, please. And… in darker shades.”
Elise looked from Honoria to Lady Somerville, sensing a tension between them.
“Did you select anything?” Honoria asked with a strained smile.
“Yes.” Suddenly timid, Elise pointed out a beautiful gown with a delicate gauze overskirt with little bows at the bottom. “I think I like this style. And calm, gentle colors such as these.” She shuffled the fashion plates, setting aside the ones she liked.
Honoria expected Lady Somerville to protest, but she just grumbled something under her breath, then smiled at Elise and caressed her cheek. “You pick out whatever you like, my dear.”
“Perhaps you’d like to see how those colors would look on you, Miss?” Madame Deville interjected.
“Yes, I’d like that.” Elise stood, and the modiste led her toward the back of the room, helping her up to the short pedestal before two mirrors.
“I will place a few fabrics on you, and you can tell me if you like the fabric or the color. If not, we move on, yes?”
“Yes, thank you.” Elise glanced back at her great-aunt and Honoria with a brilliant smile.
They watched as the modiste draped fabric after fabric over Elise, then showed her the fashion plates for comparison.
“This one is lovely,” Elise said as pale blue silk was pinned around her slender frame. Then she turned toward her great-aunt. “Don’t you agree?”
Lady Somerville tapped her cane against the polished floor. “The color is too insipid. She needs something with more character. Perhaps pastel green instead?”
Madame Deville nodded deferentially. “An excellent choice, my lady. The green would indeed complement Lady Elise’s coloring beautifully.”
Honoria cleared her throat. “If I might suggest, we try both. Elise will need more than one gown. Perhaps the pale blue will be for a calm walk in the park or a jaunt to a museum, while the pastel green would be perfect for the theater.” Lady Somerville’s sharp gaze swung to Honoria, a peculiar expression crossing her features. It was most likely the surprise of someone who was rarely contradicted. Honoria hastened to add, “However, if you think that the pale blue is still too dull, we can add a golden ribbon to line the edges, can we not? Or a lighter, shimmering blue gauze just like in that first fashion plate you set aside.”
“Fabulous, just fabulous!” Madame Deville hurried away to fetch the fabric.
“You have a surprisingly refined eye for fashion, Miss Hart,” Lady Somerville observed. “Unusual in a housekeeper.”
Honoria felt her cheeks warm. “Have you not talked to Mrs. Clarke then?” she said lightly. “Because she has a far superior eye for fashion than I.”
“Hm.” The marchioness let out a sniff. “If all housekeepers are like this, perhaps I should socialize with mine more. I might have been missing out on great fashion advice.”
“Well?” Madame Deville took Elise by her hand and twirled her around to showcase the fabrics pinned to her form, mimicking the beautiful gown it would one day become.
It was beautiful. She was beautiful. The colors, the design, all wonderful on their own were made better by the brilliant shine in Elise’s eyes.
“Gorgeous!” Lady Somerville exclaimed, a quizzing glass held to her eye. “It suits you rather well, my dear.”
Elise turned her questioning gaze toward Honoria, and she couldn’t help but smile. “You look beautiful.”
“ C’est magnifique !” the modiste exclaimed, bustling around Elise once more. “One dress decided, a dozen more to go.”
“You seem to care a lot about the children,” Lady Somerville noted.
“Of course.” Honoria’s reply was immediate. She was almost offended it needed to be said at all.
“And the earl? Do you care about him as well?”
Honoria made a concentrated effort not to react to the strange question. “Of course. He is my employer.”
A pause. “Do you know why I insisted on Caldwell joining the ton now rather than later?” the dowager asked.
Honoria raised her eyes, searching the marchioness’s face, but finding no answers there. “Yes. His lordship said that your granddaughter is in a delicate condition, and you want to join her in Florence before her confinement. It must be very moving for you, becoming a great-grandmother.”
“Yes, yes, indeed it is,” Lady Somerville said, looking thoroughly pleased, like a cat who had gotten the cream.
“And you want to help him be reintroduced into society and reestablish social connections prior to Elise’s debut.”
“Pshaw!” Lady Somerville rolled her eyes a little bit. “He is an earl. He has powerful friends. He doesn’t need to reestablish a thing.”
Honoria frowned. “Then why did you insist that he return?” What was this for? Honoria wanted to shout. Yanking us away from the security and stability of our country home, bringing us—me—face-to-face with the society I am trying my best to avoid. For what?
“No. I did it because I want to see my nephew wed.”
Honoria whipped her head around to face the woman so fast her neck made a cracking sound. She quickly looked away and attempted to temper her rioting heart though her face burned. She did not know she was capable of such a visceral reaction.
“What? You don’t think he deserves to get married?” Lady Somerville thankfully misinterpreted Honoria’s reaction. “He is still very young despite his responsibility over the children, one of whom is almost of age herself.”
“It’s not about deserving,” Honoria hastened to say, her voice shaking. “I-I just never thought, I don’t think… I am not certain that’s what his lordship wants.”
Lady Somerville dismissively waved her fan. “We don’t always know what we want, dear. Sometimes we need to be given a little nudge in the right direction to figure it out.”
Honoria swallowed and pursed her lips together. She’d already said too much, reacted so impertinently to a few innocent questions. She didn’t want the marchioness to see her distraught.
The line of questioning had just caught her off guard. In all her years working for the earl and harboring a deep abiding infatuation for the man, she had never worried he would ever get married. Yes, she had grappled with the fact that she’d have to leave him soon, and maybe he’d someday wed, but she wouldn’t be there to witness it. Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she imagined seeing him courting another woman.
Oh God, what an unpleasant thought that made her stomach queasy.
Silence stretched between them, and Honoria worried her lack of response might arouse Lady Somerville’s suspicion.
She raised her head, expecting to see the marchioness’s all-too-perceptive gaze on her, instead, she was watching Elise with a warm smile.
Not so much a Thistle lady anymore. Rather a sunflower.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Well, every schemer needs a confidante,” Lady Somerville said with a grin. “And you shall be mine. My nephew has shown much admiration toward you. So, when he asks why so many ladies are invited to his balls, you can tell him that that’s important for Elise’s come-out. And when I send young ladies to our theater box, you will help him engage them in conversations.”
Oh . Honoria forced a smile. Of course. That explained why Lady Somerville pushed for her to be with them during the theater. She was not the chaperone for Elise. Rather a chaperone for the earl. Or even worse—a matchmaker.
Honoria turned to look at Elise, her smile turning more natural upon seeing her gleeful face, although her heart was bleeding a little on the inside.
Helping the man she dreamed of to court someone else was a challenge she’d hoped never to be a part of. And doing it while out in the open? She was risking exposure and the end of her life as she knew it.