And she’d wished to wear a silk dress on a job for once. She must be more careful with her wishes.
Yet she couldn’t deny that, even with her hair pulled back in a severe chignon, she looked more feminine—feltmore feminine—than she had in all her life. Femininity was a luxury she’d never experienced.
She hardly recognized herself. She’d played many roles as spy, but neverlady. Could it really be she who stared back at her in the looking glass?
“Does the dress have to be so…”
“Revealing?”
“That would be the word.”
“I was given explicit instructions that you are to have the latest Parisian fashion. And you are wearing it.” Eva’s eyes dared Hortense to protest as she set about loosening ties and buttons. “I have all I need. You may remove it now.”
Hortense allowed the dress to fall and stepped out of the pile of delicate silk at her feet. She prided herself on the fact that there was no role she was unequal to, but the suspicion was growing that she may have reached her limit with the role of marchioness.
“The alterations will take me no more than a few hours,” continued Eva. “I shall have this and two more dresses ready for you on the morrow, and a riding habit, too.”
A riding habit? “I do not ride.”
Eva raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Youdo not ride?” She emitted a little laugh. “I thought nothing was beyond your capabilities.”
“Well, that is,” Hortense amended, “I do not ride like a lady.”
This time, Eva’s laugh reached her belly. “Now,thatI believe.” The woman held up a few yards of a coral-colored silk. “With your coloring, crisp hues for you, I think.” She picked up another swath of fabric, this one a silk saffron. “Too muddy.” She cast it aside and reached for a half-finished crimson silk gown. “With your pale skin and black hair, perfection.”
The door swung open and in strode Sir Bacon with Nell only a few steps behind. “Lawks be, he wants to sniff the world, don’t he?” the girl exclaimed, her cheeks bright and rosy.
Hortense smiled wryly. “The curiosity of his nose knows no bounds.”
Truly, she’d grown very accustomed to him. She might even go so far as to say she’d begun to enjoy him. But he wasn’t hers, and, soon, he would be returning to Lady Fortescue. She must remember.
“Nell,” began Eva, consulting the timepiece at her waist, “can you help me gather our things? Lady Mariana’s carriage will return within the quarter hour.”
Hortense realized she was still standing on the stool, clad in nothing but a chemise, corset, stockings, and slippers. “I take it you’ll want these back as well.”
Eva waved the idea away. “As they fit, you can keep them.” She carried on replacing unused pins in a small pouch. “And I shall consent to make your presentation dress, as well.”
Hortense hardly noticed when Eva and Nell spoke their good-byes and closed the door behind them. Other matters had pushed into the forefront of her mind.
Presentation dress?
The very notion snapped her back to the purpose of the finery surrounding and clothing her. She was being prepared for a role. She would enter and charm Society. And…
Use all her wiles to woo the Duke of Rothesbury. She and Clare hadn’t discussed this, but surely he understood.
How else was she to get close enough to a duke to discover where he kept a jewel such as a diamond and sapphire tiara? Likely, he had a dozen.
But to accomplish it, first, she would marry Clare. Until now, the idea hadn’t truly taken root in her mind. A portion of last night’s conversation returned to her. He’d asked why she’d left Doyle’s gang to join Nick’s operation, and she’d told him for coin. But money hadn’t been the first or even second reason she’d agreed.
Family, she’d almost confessed. A family different from Doyle and his lucky eels. One that didn’t include a swift knock to the head when she did something wrong or said something pert. Nick’s was afamilyto which she’d belonged and that served a purpose higher than lightening a nob’s pockets. Nick gave her the opportunity to be a worthwhile person.
And she had been…for a time.
She could have said all this to Clare. Part of her had wanted to. But doing so would reveal so much of her. Too much of her.
She might even feel compelled to confess that she hadn’t quite left the eels behind. Which would surely lead to one form of disaster or another—for Rafe, for Clare, for her. She must stay the course.
Yet a feeling related to those unspoken words had begun to unfurl inside her when Mariana spoke of him and, again, when Eva told her it was he who had banged on her door at the crack of dawn. It was a feeling Hortense hadn’t experienced in years.
