The bitterness in her tone shook him as much as the appalling implication of her words. The style of Miss Humby’s gown and the stripes, though a fashionable print, had not at all done her justice. He was sensitive to colors and prints. His taste was the basis of his success as a draper. But he had never meant to insult her heritage. He was the last person in any position to judge.
Thoughtlessness did not excuse him. Heshouldhave thought of it. He’d become so caught up in the role he was expected to play as Smart Jeremy, like a circus tiger himself, that he’d behaved like any driven creature, lashing back without consideration.
Lucasta had accused him of not understanding the impact of his words. She’d seen what he was doing.
He hadn’t.
“I am distressed to hear that my comments should be taken in such a light.” Jem managed to keep his voice calm, though his heart was dark and seething. “Please convey my most sincere apologies to Miss Humby.”
“I will not,” Lucasta said, hugging her muff to her middle. “It is your place to discuss any regrets you have over your remarks with her.”
He would. He could not let it be assumed he despised dark skin, and for more reasons than custom for his shop. But he did not see how he could convince Lucasta Lithwick of this.
They were in Caroline Street and she had exited the calash in high dudgeon before Jem realized the only way he could make her understand. He would have to tell her everything, more thanhe wanted to reveal, more than anyone else in London knew. It was the only way he could redeem himself.
And yet, letting Lucasta Lithwick into his secret would risk everything he had guarded for so long, bringing the truth about himself into the cold light of her judgment.
He couldn’t let her or anyone go on believing the conclusion that had been drawn from his unconsidered remarks. He might detest being Smart Jeremy, but he needed that fop. If his business suffered, Jem had no way to protect his family.
But he couldn’t risk exposing that family, not even to change Miss Lucasta Lithwick’s damning opinion of him. He couldn’t give up his last tenuous shred of secrecy when the loss would harm far more people than just him.
CHAPTER TEN
Lady Pevensey’s correspondents hastened to inform her that Lucasta had been seen in Smart Jeremy’s calash, driving through Hyde Park. In retribution, her ladyship chose not to permit Lucasta to accompany them to the Duchess of Highcastle’s Venetian breakfast on Sunday.
Lucasta bore her punishment bravely and spent the hours in her music room, arranging Signor Marchesi’s song for the harpsichord. She refused to speculate on what Lord Rudyard would have to say of the event, which proved an efficient use of her time, as Cici reported that he did not attend. Lady Pevensey was extremely put out, and so was Her Grace the duchess, who had apparently been hoping to learn what Rudyard thought of the arrangement of feathers on her hat.
He had been as nervous as a cat on hot bricks at Sancho’s, uncomfortable to appear in an establishment run by an African family, even a prominent one. Lucasta refused to devote a moment of her mental faculties to him. He was a man who judged people by appearances, by their style or dress or the color of their skin. She had pronounced him no better than he was, and she ought not feel disappointed that she had been proven right.
On Monday, the Duchess of Hunsdon held a tea, and Lady Pevensey left Lucasta at home again. Lucasta, having been vocal in her disapproval of Cici’s many society engagements, could not now complain that she was left out of this one, though the Duchess of Hunsdon had been a student at Miss Gregoire’s and Lucasta very much wanted to learn more about those Greek histories. She spent the moody hours with her violin, entertained a surprising number of callers, then ran round to her favorite stationer’s for paper and ink, though she knew she would not be permitted to perform her new compositions.
She was surrounded by a symphony of more and better music than she’d ever known in her life, and was not allowed to listen, much less play a part. It was like water denied a fever patient, last rites denied a victim of the plague.
Tuesday, Lucasta fell with gratitude upon a summons from Selina. Cici was occupied by her dancing master, and it was a simple matter for Lucasta to pull on her boots, cloak, and calash bonnet, then slip from the house. She was desperate for the company of her friends.
One never knew if one invited robbery more by walking a woman alone, in unremarkable clothing, or with a servant, which indicated enough wealth to make it possible she had something worth stealing. London pickpockets were more ubiquitous, and imaginative, than ones in Bath. One heard stories of boys in baker’s baskets plucking wigs off the heads of passing gentlemen, of women arriving at destinations without their pockets, never having felt the tug of their skirts nor heard the snip that cut the string.
Lucasta arrived in Brook Street without incident to find the others there before her. Minnie, in Hanover Square, had the shortest distance to cover to the Humby residence, and Annis, coming from the ambassador’s quarters in Golden Square, had not much further. They gathered in Mrs. Humby’s familydrawing room, where the hand-painted wallpaper bloomed with plumed birds on their perches, and the hand-knotted Indian rug sprouted a profusion of vines and flowery medallions. The room was warm and inviting, a dash of rich color against the dry London gloom.
Mrs. Humby, in a satin open robe over a ruffled petticoat, with a lace cap adorning her glossy black hair, presided over the tea tray. Selina tugged Lucasta toward a cluster of boxes laid across the settee and pressed a slip of paper into Lucasta’s hand.
“Lord Rudyard called upon Mama and me yesterday. And this morning, the box arrived. With a note.”
Lucasta read the neat, firm hand.I hope you will forgive my being so bold as to approach a young lady of such fashion and delicacy, but rumors of your kindness have given me the courage to inform you that I have recently established a shop at No. – Piccadilly, in which I hope to serve young ladies of distinction in a manner that does credit to their beauty and taste. I would be honored if Miss Selina Humby would care to call on me at her convenience to discuss making up a gown for her with the enclosed, which has been provided me with the compliments of Dixon & Co. I look forward with great eagerness to making Miss Humby’s acquaintance, if she would be so kind as to grant us the honor of patronizing our humble establishment.
With deepest admiration and affection, yr servant, Mlle. Beaudoin.
Lucasta stared as Selina lifted a length of luscious silk from the box. On a background of yellow rose brocade, exquisite pink tulips and violet asters bloomed on delicate green vines. The fabric suited Selina’s coloring exactly. She would glow in it like a jewel.
Lucasta battled a wave of envy, bitter as weak tea. “Dixon & Co. is Rudyard’s warehouse.”
“I know,” Selina said. “And Mama and I agreed that I cannot accept a gift from a gentleman. But a mantua maker who is a woman…” She glanced at the other two girls.
Annis opened a box holding a shimmering cerulean silk splashed with white and dove-gray flowers. She lifted a fold to her cheek. “This came to our house yesterday. It feels heavenly.”
Minnie’s box held a dark mother-of-pearl damask with rows of full-blown orange poppies. “It’s Spitalfields silk.” She traced the fine embroidery with her fingertips. The fabric brought out the amber undertones of her skin and flattered her dark beauty.
“So not smuggled from abroad, but made here in England,” Lucasta said.
