They gave the coachman the address of the dressmaker Lady Tarrant had told them about: Miss Chance, off Piccadilly.
More than two hours later they piled back into the carriage, a little dazed. “Well, what did you think of that?” Clarissa said as she collapsed onto the seat.
“I know,” Izzy agreed. “Whatever I expected, Miss Chance wasn’t it.” The dressmaker was small, elegant, outspoken, Cockney and had a decided limp. Izzy had had doubts at first, but by the end of the session she’d decided Miss Chance was a marvel.
First she’d told Betty to go into the back room and ask someone called Polly to give her a cup of tea and a seat because the ladies would be a while. A dressmaker who was considerate of a maidservant—that was a surprise.
Then she’d turned to Izzy, her gaze raking her from top to toe. She’d given a brusque nod, then she examined Clarissa with just as close a scrutiny.
“Sisters, eh? I ’ope you’re not plannin’ to wear matching dresses.”
“No, not at all,” Izzy said.
“Good, because it wouldn’t suit you, and in any case, I wouldn’t do it.” She grinned. “You each ’ave a verydifferent kind of beauty, and you each need different styles to bring out your beauty.”
“Beauty?Me?” Clarissa blurted.
The little dressmaker directed a stern look at her. “Yes, you, Miss Studley. Every woman is beautiful in her own way and it’s me purpose in life to bring it out. Now, will you trust me to know my business?”
Clarissa hesitated. “Yes,” Izzy said firmly.
Cups of tea and a dish of almond biscuits were brought in while they perused fashion magazines—mostly English, but some also from Paris and even one from Germany. “I make up me own designs,” Miss Chance assured them. “These are just for you to look at and let me know the kind of thing you like and don’t like.”
Izzy had decided tastes and she didn’t hesitate to approve some styles and condemn others. Miss Chance nodded. “You know what suits you, I reckon, miss. That’s good.” She turned to Clarissa. “What about you, miss? Anything here take your fancy?”
Clarissa looked at the drawings doubtfully. “All these ladies look six foot tall, and are as thin as a lath.”
Miss Chance laughed. “I know. Nutty, ain’t it? Don’t worry, I’ll design your dresses special just for you, and you’ll look and feel stunning.” She added, “That’s the key to bein’ beautiful, Miss Studley—first you gottafeelbeautiful and then people will start to notice that youarebeautiful. It’s all in your attitude.”
Izzy could have hugged the little lady. Izzy had been telling Clarissa that kind of thing for years, and now that a fashionable London dressmaker was saying it, maybe Clarissa might even believe it.
They were then ushered behind the velvet curtains, where embarrassingly detailed measurements were taken by Polly, assisted by Betty.
Next there was a discussion between Miss Chance andher assistant, Polly, about the colors and fabrics and styles that would suit each young lady. One room contained rolls and rolls of sumptuous fabrics; it was an Aladdin’s cave of gorgeousness.
Izzy and Clarissa, who up to now had only ever worn clothes made by maidservants or the village dressmaker, were dazzled by the rich range of fabrics and the detail Miss Chance and Polly went into, trying this and that, with Polly making notes all the time.
They ordered lavishly—morning dresses, walking dresses, half dresses, evening dresses and ball gowns—along with sets of the prettiest underclothes they’d ever seen. They ordered spencers and pelisses and even an opera cloak, though they’d never been to the opera. Miss Chance also recommended a couple of milliners, a glover, and a shoemaker who could be relied on to make elegant new shoes to match their pretty new outfits.
In the carriage going back to Lady Scattergood’s a thoughtful silence fell. Izzy guessed that Clarissa was thinking much the same as she was: What was the point of getting so many lovely new clothes if they didn’t have a chance to wear them for something more exciting than walking the dogs and attending a literary society?
But they would. Izzy was determined on it.
“Lord Salcott is going to hit the roof when he sees the bill,” Clarissa said.
Izzy waved that idea away. “Nonsense, if he’s going to be miserly, he shouldn’t have told you to go ahead and order what you needed. He must know London is expensive.”
But he’d approved the spending for Clarissa, not Izzy. She felt a little bit guilty about that. But, she reminded herself, he’d been prepared to make her a handsome allowance and more if she’d agreed to disappear. This way he’d still be spending money on her while retaining the privilege of her company. Her much more elegantly dressed company.
A spurt of laughter escaped her as she imagined hisexpression if she presented him with that point of view. He wanted her gone, gone, gone. But she wasn’t going anywhere.
“What’s so funny?” Clarissa asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just something amusing I saw in the street. We’ve passed it now.”
Chapter Six
Leo’s traveling chaise passed between the gateposts of Studley Park Manor. He hadn’t mentioned to the young ladies that he planned to visit their former home; he wanted to learn for himself what their life had been.
