Page 128 of The Dueling Duchess

She nodded. “These are a very clever idea. Thank you, Guy.”

He looked genuinely pleased. “You are most welcome.”

“But . . . there are so many different steps,” Blade said, her pale gaze riveted to the writing on the fan.

“You will learn them in no time,” he assured her. “Helen has graciously agreed to play the piano, and the four of us will take our positions in the line.”

He clapped his hands. “No dawdling, now! Let us learn how to dance!”

Chapter 22

Cecile was surprised when Blade showed up for their agreed upon shopping trip to Bond Street.

“What?” the other woman said when Cecile stared at her rather ugly mustard-yellow day dress and the huge black bird perched on her shoulder.

“That is the nicest clothing you have?”

“Unless you count my costume.” She gave Cecile a sarcastic smile. “Should I change into that?”

“Very droll.”

“Well, I’m sorry you don’t care for my clothing, but it is what I have.”

Cecile realized that she’d finally said something that had pierced the other woman’s seemingly impenetrable armor.

She laid a hand on Blade’s shoulder—the one without a bird standing on it. “I didn’t mean to be insulting.”

“I know you didn’t.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid frivolous clothing has never been a priority.”

Cecile wanted to tell her that a decent walking or carriage costume was not frivolous, but then she had no idea of the woman’s financial situation. Oh, she knew how much Blade earned, of course, but she didn’t know how great her expenses were.

“Are you reluctant to go shopping because of money, Josephine?”

Blade looked startled, either by the question or the sound of her full name. “No. It’s not that. I have money to buy a ball gown.” She gave Cecile an uncharacteristically shy look. “I don’t wish to look like this”—she held out her arms to display her out-of-fashion gown, gray cloak, and practical black ankle boots—“but I’ve never had any reason to dress otherwise.”

“When you say clothing—”

“I mean more than just a ball gown—some other clothes, too.”

Was that eagerness in Blade’s opal eyes?

“You will be a delight to dress,” Cecile assured her. She glanced at Angus. “Er, I’m not so sure—”

“Don’t worry; Angus won’t want to go into the shops with us.”

Cecile glanced at the bird—who gave her a cool, scathing look—and she dropped the issue.

Soon the three of them were rolling along in a hackney, headed toward Bond Street.

Cecile took out her notebook and tiny pencil. “It will be best to make a list. What do you wish to buy?”

“Oh. Well.” Blade’s eyes flickered over Cecile’s emerald-green ensemble, which was trimmed with chocolate-brown suede and sported large brass buttons on the mannish-looking spencer. “Something like what you’re wearing. And I suppose a few other dresses.” She shrugged. “I don’t know all the names for things. Whatever you suggest.”

Cecile grinned.

Blade suddenly looked apprehensive. “But not too much. I don’t wish to be bogged down with a great deal of clothing when I move.”

“You’re moving?”