Gasps of disbelief went up. The smooth, polished surface of the dummy didn’t bear a single nick, scratch, or dint from the blade.
Pippa drew her brows together. “How can that be…?”
“Chainmail.” Holding up the corset, Mrs. Q widened the tears in the linen, exposing the layer of delicate metal links beneath. “I took an ancient idea and adapted it for modern use. Mr. Q helped, of course.”
Mr. Q, the dressmaker’s adoring husband, was a master blacksmith who collaborated on many of his wife’s projects.
“How utterlybrilliant,” Pippa breathed.
Mrs. Q accepted her due with a nod. “We experimented with various metals to see which would provide the strongest protection with the lightest weight. This corset is no heavier than its whalebone counterpart. Not to mention, it gives an excellent shape to the figure. But, come, I have more to show you.”
The Angels spent the next half-hour marveling over Mrs. Q’s innovations. Garter belts that doubled as explosive devices, fans with razor-sharp edges, and reticules with hidden compartments numbered among the inventor’s creations. Then they came to more dressmaker’s forms, these ones wearing some of the most beautiful evening gowns Pippa had ever seen. Cut in the latest silhouette with fitted, elongated torsos and full skirts, each of the dresses was unique and spectacular.
“How lovely.” Sighing, Fiona stroked a sapphire blue ballgown with an overlay of glittery silver netting. “What are these dresses designed to do?”
“These are the most important weapons of your arsenal. They are for catching husbands,” Mrs. Q said with a wink. “Or, if you already have one, enticing him.”
The Angels laughed. Fi, Glory, and Livy dashed behind the nearby dressing screens to try on the sublime creations. Pippa lingered behind, wistfully studying a gown that was the color of the last hour of sunlight. She had once loved painting subjects bathed in that rich, golden hue.
“That dress is made of shot-silk from China and suits you perfectly,” Mrs. Q said. “Why don’t you try it on, my lady?”
“But I am in mourning,” Pippa said in surprise.
She’d worn her widow’s weeds today. It was one thing to abandon mourning clothes in private, another to do so in public. And trying on such an extravagant dress, even in front of friends…she felt an odd prickle of panic, as if she were tempting fate by flaunting her newfound happiness.
“You look improved since I last saw you.” Like any modiste who’d reached her level of success, Mrs. Q had an unerring instinct for reading her clients. “The light is back in your eyes. And if I am not mistaken, the spark of love as well?”
Pippa’s cheeks warmed. So much for hiding her affair.
“I…I have met someone, Mrs. Q,” she confessed. “Is that terribly scandalous?”
“You are part of a covert female society that investigates murders”—Mrs. Q arched her brows—“and you worry that being inloveis scandalous?”
“You have a point,” Pippa said, chuckling.
“Life is short, my dear. Do not waste it worrying about what others might think. I have always admired you Angels for going after your hearts’ desires.”
Pippa looked at the golden gown. Imagined Cull’s reaction to seeing her in it.
“Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Q,” she said. “And I would love to try on the dress.”
“I want a word wif you, Cullen!” Squibb bellowed as he stood in front of the Nest. “Get your arse out ’ere!”
Looking down from the glasshouse, Cull thought,Right on time.
He’d been expecting Squibb. Mrs. Kent had been true to her word: her friend Alfie had seen to it that Squibb’s goods were no good anywhere in London. The sweep had tried pawnshops one after another, to no avail. Apparently, Squibb wasn’t as dim-witted as Cull believed; it had only taken the bastard three days to figure out who was responsible.
“Are you really goin’ out there, Cull?” Fair Molly asked.
“I am. Time to finish this business.”
As the birds squawked around him, Cull walked the perimeter of the aviary, counting off the enemies in the deepening dusk. Squibb had only brought five men…which Cull took as a sign of the sweep’s dwindling power. True loyalty couldn’t be bought with money. The moment Squibb’s funds were cut off, he was done.
Exactly as Cull had planned.
“How many men do you see?” he asked.
“Two wif Squib, three in the surrounding alleyways,” Molly said promptly.
