Read Online Lady Adventuress 02 - The Education of Lord Hartley by Daphne du Bois - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Daphne du Bois
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made.
Refusing to waste time with sitting about, and needing to stretch their legs after the long journey, they decided to head out once they had changed into more appropriate garments.
It felt like a dream to finally be able to stroll down the avenue, feeling part of the bustling city around them. Cecile looked as delighted as Maggie felt, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sights and sounds of their new home.
“If only mama could see me now,” she breathed in awe. “I am finally here!”
“Yes, I cannot quite believe that it is real – a part of me is scared that I should wake up at any moment and find myself back in Chenefelt, awaiting cousin Kingsley.”
“Oh, no! No, this is real. I think this is the most real place I have ever been,” Cecile said. “Let us first visit the draper’s and then perhaps we ought to see about taking a shop.”
After an impromptu visit to a solicitor dealing with the letting of shops, and flustering his clerk on account of being female and very persistent that a shop was precisely what they wanted, Maggie and Cecile took the lease of a charming little establishment in the very heart of the city.
“It is a little dear,” Maggie said, “But I expect we will make it up very soon. We must set it in order as soon as we may, and then display some of our most recent gowns in the window.”
There would be time to take in the sights of Paris later, she reminded herself as she felt her spirit reaching out longingly towards the bustling streets. Cecile wrote out a list of everything that needed doing and over the next few days they systematically began to organize their shop, ordering fabrics and trim, and writing advertisements to send out to the most popular Parisian ladies’ journals.
Cecile fell into the role of Madame Finette with remarkable ease, as though she had spent her whole life as the city’s most exclusive couturiere . It seemed to Maggie that her friend had truly come into herself the moment she set foot in the shop, sounding the bell over the door for the first time. It hadn’t mattered in the least that the shop had still been empty at the time. Maggie had seen how radiantly hope had illuminated Cecile’s face.
This, she’d thought, was what a person looked like when their dreams suddenly came true.
They spent many long evenings working by candlelight, sketching out their new designs, cutting out gowns and sewing more samples of Madame Finette’s genius, while planning for Maggie’s debut as Madame de Gramont.
True to Lady Strathavon’s word, her friend the Comtesse de St Mercy had written Maggie a very long and very kind letter, welcoming her to Paris and promising to call once she returned from a short visit to the country.
Maggie and Cecile had promptly decided that Maggie would wear some of their most splendid gowns when she launched herself on Paris, the better to show off Madame Finette’s wares.
“There is nothing like the rumour of a secret genius who creates gowns for the city’s most fashionable originals to have grand ladies knocking on our door,” Maggie told her friend as she finished embroidering a border of flying birds on a sash for a visiting gown.
*
It was just over three weeks after Maggie’s flight from her matrimonial future, and Hart was aware of every passing second. He thought irritably that he certainly had to take his hat off to Maggie’s ingenuity.
He’d lost her trail after Dover and had gone on to Paris regardless, as it was evident that she had indeed been headed in that direction. His search of the city had yielded no results, however – it was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Having taken up lodging with his aunt, Marie-Josette, Madame la Comtesse de St Mercy, who was as well connected in Parisian society as it was possible to be, he had still not been able to glimpse hide nor hair of the damned girl. The marquess was almost ready to admit that he had underestimated Miss Margaret Dacre: the girl had
Refusing to waste time with sitting about, and needing to stretch their legs after the long journey, they decided to head out once they had changed into more appropriate garments.
It felt like a dream to finally be able to stroll down the avenue, feeling part of the bustling city around them. Cecile looked as delighted as Maggie felt, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sights and sounds of their new home.
“If only mama could see me now,” she breathed in awe. “I am finally here!”
“Yes, I cannot quite believe that it is real – a part of me is scared that I should wake up at any moment and find myself back in Chenefelt, awaiting cousin Kingsley.”
“Oh, no! No, this is real. I think this is the most real place I have ever been,” Cecile said. “Let us first visit the draper’s and then perhaps we ought to see about taking a shop.”
After an impromptu visit to a solicitor dealing with the letting of shops, and flustering his clerk on account of being female and very persistent that a shop was precisely what they wanted, Maggie and Cecile took the lease of a charming little establishment in the very heart of the city.
“It is a little dear,” Maggie said, “But I expect we will make it up very soon. We must set it in order as soon as we may, and then display some of our most recent gowns in the window.”
There would be time to take in the sights of Paris later, she reminded herself as she felt her spirit reaching out longingly towards the bustling streets. Cecile wrote out a list of everything that needed doing and over the next few days they systematically began to organize their shop, ordering fabrics and trim, and writing advertisements to send out to the most popular Parisian ladies’ journals.
Cecile fell into the role of Madame Finette with remarkable ease, as though she had spent her whole life as the city’s most exclusive couturiere . It seemed to Maggie that her friend had truly come into herself the moment she set foot in the shop, sounding the bell over the door for the first time. It hadn’t mattered in the least that the shop had still been empty at the time. Maggie had seen how radiantly hope had illuminated Cecile’s face.
This, she’d thought, was what a person looked like when their dreams suddenly came true.
They spent many long evenings working by candlelight, sketching out their new designs, cutting out gowns and sewing more samples of Madame Finette’s genius, while planning for Maggie’s debut as Madame de Gramont.
True to Lady Strathavon’s word, her friend the Comtesse de St Mercy had written Maggie a very long and very kind letter, welcoming her to Paris and promising to call once she returned from a short visit to the country.
Maggie and Cecile had promptly decided that Maggie would wear some of their most splendid gowns when she launched herself on Paris, the better to show off Madame Finette’s wares.
“There is nothing like the rumour of a secret genius who creates gowns for the city’s most fashionable originals to have grand ladies knocking on our door,” Maggie told her friend as she finished embroidering a border of flying birds on a sash for a visiting gown.
*
It was just over three weeks after Maggie’s flight from her matrimonial future, and Hart was aware of every passing second. He thought irritably that he certainly had to take his hat off to Maggie’s ingenuity.
He’d lost her trail after Dover and had gone on to Paris regardless, as it was evident that she had indeed been headed in that direction. His search of the city had yielded no results, however – it was as though she had vanished into thin air.
Having taken up lodging with his aunt, Marie-Josette, Madame la Comtesse de St Mercy, who was as well connected in Parisian society as it was possible to be, he had still not been able to glimpse hide nor hair of the damned girl. The marquess was almost ready to admit that he had underestimated Miss Margaret Dacre: the girl had
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