“Follow that hackney if you would, please.”
“Aye, sir. I will do my best.” The jarvey clucked his tongue, and the horses trotted down the road.
The redhead’s cab clipped at a rapid pace. Lex wondered where she might be off to. They were headed toward the West End, away from where shops lined the streets. He remembered the carpetbag she’d been toting.I wonder what she’s up to.
He might have found out if not for the ragamuffin that suddenly darted across the street, causing the horses to stop in their tracks. He heard the snap of the shaft. The pole that connected the carriage to the horses broke, and the loose horses trotted down the street. The redhead’s carriage disappeared in the distance.
Of all the luck…
Lex paid the driver and caught another hackney back to Mount Street, where he’d seen the redhead exit a dress shop. His almost encounter would not go to waste. A smile curved his lips as he enteredthe dress shop.No indeed.
The bell’s chime announced his arrival. He felt fortunate, as there appeared to be no one present other than a woman with dark ringlets behind the counter. She looked up at him, her brows rising, questioning his presence in a lady’s dressmaking shop.
“Can I help you, monsieur?”
Her lilting French accent made him conclude this was none other than Madame Gris, dressmaker extraordinaire, as advertised on the door.
“I think you can. I was supposed to meet a young lady—my cousin. I believe she was here for a dressmaking appointment. I think we might have miscommunicated as to the time of our meeting, and I might have arrived too late and missed her.”
“Oui, Lady Sinclair just left. I’m surprised you did not see her.”
Lady Sinclair…Lex tucked the name away.
“How unfortunate that I just missed her. Grandmama will be most upset.”
Madame Gris studied him with what appeared to be growing curiosity.
Lex did his best not to show any concern over her scrutiny. “Might I trouble you as to when her next fitting will be? Grandmama will insist on it. She wants to be sure to be here for the next appointment, and she is most impatient to find out now, while she is waiting in the carriage.”
The Frenchwoman glanced out the window, and Lex had to conceal his smile at his luck that a fancy black carriage was now stopped across the street.
“Given that the dowager will be paying for the gowns, she would like to see them before they are completed, simply to offer her sage advice.”
Madame Gris nodded, her smile reflecting her eagerness to please. Of course she would, given that she relied on word of mouth for her reputation. And she wouldn’t want a crusty old matron to spreadrumors about her to her friends. She swiftly flipped through her appointment book. “Friday at two p.m., I believe.” She nodded. “Yes, two it is.”
“Excellent. I do appreciate your help, Madame Gris. I assure you, I will mention your kind assistance to both the dowager and my cousin.”
“Yes.” The woman’s lips curled into a coy smile. “I do aim to please, monsieur. And please convey my best to your grandmother. I think she will also be pleased with the quality of the beautiful gowns I am making for your cousin. Especially the gown for her important dinner on Saturday. Usually, it takes me at least a month to fashion something for such an occasion, but I do this happily because I care about my clients. I do hope you will convey that to your grandmother and tell her that I look forward to seeing her on Friday.”
He smiled politely, but inwardly his blood pumped excitedly at learning that Lady Sinclair was attending an important dinner on Saturday. So, she was in fact going to be there. Mrs. Dove-Lyon had invited her to attend. Which meant that perhaps she wasn’t as opposed to a match as she’d led him to believe. In any case, if the matchmaker was still opposed, he didn’t care. The thought that he would meet the red-headed beauty again sent anticipation coursing through him.
Her financial situation was becoming increasingly secondary in importance to him. Yes, he had to marry a woman with a hefty dowry. But what excited him more was the opportunity to meet her again, to speak with her, to find out more about her. She was indeed a woman of mystery with a decidedly independent streak, which attracted him even more.
With his spirits buoyed, Lex bade the modiste a good day and left the shop. Thanks to Basil, he was staying at Brown’s. His devoted friend had taken a suite of rooms, and Lex had taken the second bedroom. He resumed his walk back to the hotel, looking forward to sharing his good news with his friend.
Chapter Ten
“Good God, youfollowedher?”
Lex frowned at his friend. “I don’t need a lecture from you, Basil. I realize it was impulsive of me.”
“What a bit of bad luck that you lost her.” Basil popped a bite-sized sandwich into his mouth and shook his head. “You were practically composing sonnets about her yesterday, desperate to find her, and wondering if you’d ever see her again, and wonder of wonders, you actually did spot her in Mayfair?”
“Stubble it, will you, Basil?” Lex took a sip of tea and set his cup back down, a little too forcefully. “It ended up providing a bit of luck.”
“In what way?” Basil said, buttering a cinnamon scone.
“I went into the modiste’s shop, pretended to be her cousin, and found out her name—Lady Sinclair—and that she has an important dinner coming up, for which Madame Gris was creating a gown in record time. Which means she will be attending Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s private dinner. Is that not good news? Does that not bode well?”
