*
“I’m sorry tobe the bearer of bad news,” Selina said in a low voice. “Mrs. Parker is waiting to speak to you. And I received this while you were with MacKenzie.”
She held out a note with an impressive looking seal. Penelope recognized it as belonging to one of her upcoming clients, or at least the mother of that client.
She broke the seal. The note was brief and said exactly what she had expected. Her services were no longer required. No explanation, but then none was needed. The incident with Mortimer in the park had done its damage.
Penelope took a deep breath and told herself she could still repair the mess she found herself in. All she needed to do was turn Callum from a “barbarian” into a gentleman, find him a suitable wife, and then receive the congratulations she rightly deserved for performing such a miracle. Surely then everyone would see she was worthy of another chance?
“Bad news?” Selina was watching her face, her own expression sympathetic. “You always said that woman was a stickler. I hope her son is snubbed by theton.”
Penelope managed a smile. “He should be with that silly laugh of his. Although almost anything is forgiven when one has a title and a fortune.”
Selina hesitated. “Do you think Mrs. Parker—”
“Is here to tell me she no longer requires my services for her granddaughter? Probably. I had better speak to her.”
Mrs. Parker, with her beaky nose, had the appearance of a bird of ill omen. She explained in a breathless voice that although she would be happy for Penelope to take on her granddaughter for her next, andfifth, Season with no husband in sight, her family were not.
“I fear you have turned a great many supporters against you, Miss Armstrong,” she said. “Such a to-do with your brother and that brute, MacKenzie. What next? No one wants to risk employing you in case their reputations are tarnished by association.”
It was nothing more than Penelope had expected, but it still hurt. She forced herself to say, “I understand, Mrs. Parker, and I apologize. Perhaps at some point in the future, if you need my services again—”
Mrs. Parker waved a hand to stop her. “The thing is,” she said, her voice shaking, “I know you could have helped my poor granddaughter find her feet this Season. She struggles so with shyness. I have seen the change you have made in so many others. I just wish...”
But whatever she wished was not spoken, and Mrs. Parker left soon afterward.
Penelope stood for a time, contemplating the future that lay before her, but it was too gloomy for her to do so for long. Besides, she still had one client, and he was waiting for her upstairs. She wouldn’t let this stop her from turning Callum into her greatest triumph. She would show them all!
Chapter Eleven
Mr. Doddington wasa tall, spare man with sharp eyes behind his round spectacles. He always had a smile for Penelope, and now he listened as she introduced him to Callum and explained what was required for her latest client. “I think he needs a complete transformation.”
Callum made a sound that suggested he disagreed.
“Hmm.” Doddington gave Callum a searching examination. “The marquess certainly has the right figure for the latest fashions.”
“I’m not a dandy,” Callum muttered.
Doddington’s mouth twitched. “No, you arenota dandy,” he agreed, “but you could be much admired if you put your mind to it, my lord. I see you in clothing that fits you without a wrinkle. Plain colors—none of those silly sparkly waistcoats. You would be the envy of theton, and that is the point, isn’t it, Miss Armstrong?”
“That is the point,” she agreed with a smile. “The marquess has come to London in search of a wife.”
Doddington clapped his hands. “I think with a little help from myself and Miss Armstrong, you will find one,” he said. “Now, let us get started.”
Penelope was more than happy to leave matters in the tailor’s hands, but she felt she had to stay in case there was a question of taste or style she needed to address. Or if Callum refused tocooperate. To pass the time, she wandered about the premises, stopping to inspect some of the rolls of cloth on display and a tub of fancy buttons. Now and again there was a murmur of voices from the inner room, but so far it sounded as if all was well.
“Miss Armstrong?” Eventually, Doddington’s call brought her to the door of the fitting room. “I wonder if you could give us your thoughts on a matter of color.”
Penelope blinked. Callum was standing there bare chested, in his drawers, and looking most uncomfortable. It was certainly a sight to see, but she kept her gaze on his face.
“I believe the forest green for the jacket, what do you think?” Doddington asked, seeming not to notice her discomfort or Callum’s. “We could make that royal blue, but the marquess informs me he likes nothing better than to stroll in the forest on his estate. I thought the green may remind him of home.”
Callum gave her a pleading look but Penelope ignored him.
“Yes, I agree,” she went on. “But I also think we need more than one jacket. The marquess will be very busy socially in the next few weeks, and he can afford your excellent craftsmanship.” She raised her eyebrow at Callum and caught the flicker of a smile in his dark gaze.
“Miss Armstrong knows best,” he said gloomily.
