He nodded. “And has lived there happily on her own ever since. I know, it seems odd, because she’s not the least bit shy or antisocial, but then Aunt Dottie has always been an original.”
They reached the landing and heard a gust of laughter coming from the girls’ rooms. Cal said ruefully, “I fear Rose might have inherited Aunt Agatha’s pithy way with words too.”
Emm laughed. “She’s quick witted, and very sharp, I agree, but she’s fundamentally a kind girl and, at the moment at least, lacks your aunt’s arrogance.”
***
Shortly afterward Cal left for Whitehall to check on developments. Emm and the girls went shopping, piling into the carriage with Hawkins driving. Lady Salter’s criticismof her clothing notwithstanding, Emm urgently needed evening dresses for the events to which she and Cal had been invited.
They visited Salon Hortense first. No sense being prejudiced against the woman because of her number one client.
The salon was austerely elegant, furnished in many shades of gray with gold highlights. There was a deep silver-gray carpet, a large gilt-edged looking glass, some spindly black-and-gilt chairs, a small black marble-topped table with gilt legs, and not much more. Gray silk and velvet curtains were draped across the back of the room.
Several elegant, aristocratic-looking middle-aged ladies loitered, chatting quietly, presumably waiting for someone. They slid Emm and the girls curious, sidelong glances but otherwise pretended not to notice.
A thin assistant dressed in black and white approached them. Emm gave her Lady Salter’s card and asked to speak to Hortense. The woman murmured that she would inquire.
Ten minutes later a brisk, bony Frenchwoman dressed all in black appeared from between the draped curtains. She was holding Lady Salter’s card.
“You wish to speak to me, my lady?”
Emm introduced herself and indicated the girls, who were gathered at the window looking out into the street. She explained that their aunt, Lady Salter, had recommended they visit Hortense with a view to ordering some gowns for the forthcoming season.
Hortense’s deeply plucked brows practically disappeared. “Thisseason? I don’t know such a thing can be done. Hortense, she is the foremost mantua maker in London, you understand. All the ladies come to her, because they know she is the best. The order book is full.” She glanced at the girls, just as Rose turned around.
The dressmaker’s eyes widened. Her gaze fixed greedily on Rose. “Almostfull, I meant. On the other hand, Hortense might be able to fit you in. If the young ladies would approach?”
Emm gestured them forward. Hortense gushed over Rose’s beauty, lavishly praising her bearing, her coloring, hercomplexion. The narrow black eyes gleamed at the sight of George. “Hortense can see the resemblance to Lady Salter in this one—a dark beauty, the perfect foil for your golden beauty.”
Then she turned to Lily, pursed her lips, then gave a very Gallic shrug. “And I am sure we can do something with this little one. Hortense is up to any challenge.”
Lily, whose eyes had been shining with excitement, seemed to droop a little.
“Thank you, madame,” Emm said briskly. “We’ll let you know. Girls?” And she swept them out of the shop, leaving Hortense with her mouth most unfashionably agape.
“But I thought—” Lily began.
“We should visit a number of dressmakers, don’t you agree?” Emm said. “And then choose the ones we like best.”
Rose slipped her arm through Emm’s and squeezed. “I didn’t like skinny old All-Tense at all. Besides, I cannot bear people who refer to themselves in the third person.”
Lily’s brow furrowed worriedly. “But do we know any other dressmakers in London?”
Emm stared at her blankly a moment. Not a single one. Then she recalled the box her beautiful wedding nightgown had come in. “The House of Chance.”
Rose looked as though she didn’t quite believe her. “The House ofChance?”
“Yes,” Emm said triumphantly. “Do you and Lily remember Sally Destry from school?”
Rose laughed. “How could we forget? She became one of Miss Mallard’s famous ‘five countesses.’ Not counting you, of course, Emm.”
“I remember Sally,” Lily said. “She was nice.”
“She certainly was,” Emm said. “And Sally, who is now the Countess of Maldon, patronizes the House of Chance. And that’s good enough for me. She always had excellent taste and I have no doubt she’s become quite dashing and fashionable.”
They climbed into the carriage. “The House of Chance, Hawkins, please,” Emm said. “It’s off Piccadilly, I think.” She hoped.
“What famous five countesses?” George asked, and Lilyand Rose explained. Emm was amused to hear that they also finished with “and a partridge in a pear tree.”
