Led Astray by a Rake (The Husband Hunters Club 1)

Reluctantly, Olivia came to stand by her, wanting to stop her but at the same time not wanting to crush the woman’s hopes. But, as the dress was revealed to her, she found herself watching, fascinated, until eventually she was held spellbound by its beauty.

Esmeralda said reverently, “The finest silk. And see the pearls sewn into the fabric? In the light of a ballroom you will truly shine, my lady.”

Olivia had never seen any dress so beautiful. It was the softest, palest pink, and the glowing pearls made her think of a summer dawn. Nic had said that Madam Esmeralda was the best modiste in London, and he was right. Olivia knew she’d allowed her jealousy and her prejudices and the opinions of others sway her. She should be more like Nic—if she wanted something badly enough, she should go ahead and do it anyway.

“Thank you, Esmeralda,” she whispered. “This is truly a masterpiece. I only hope I can do it justice.”

Esmeralda bowed her head, accepting the compliment with a little smile.

Olivia took a breath, deciding to be honest. “I’m uncertain whether I should avail myself of your services. You know why, I think?”

“Yes, I know why,” Esmeralda said with a touch of bitterness. “I am known as a modiste who only works with the demimonde. But I have been waiting for a chance like this, my lady. You will set my dresses off to perfection, and you have the confidence to shrug off any ill-natured remarks that may be made. Other women will see what I have done for you, and they will come to me. A trickle at first, but soon a flood.”

“You are very certain they will overlook your past clientele, madam.”

“I am.” Esmeralda reached out to touch the dress lovingly with her fingertips. “No woman, no matter how grand she thinks she is, can resist looking better than her peers.”

Olivia smiled. “Very true. You have more to show me? I believe that if I am to make a splash, I will need more than one dress to do so.”

Esmeralda hesitated, one hand clenched at her waist, the other resting on the arm of a chair. “Do you mean you intend to employ me as your modiste, my lady?”

“I do indeed.”

She toppled, only just catching herself from falling. Dismayed, Olivia hurried to support her, feeling the other woman’s boniness beneath her plain gray dress.

“Madam, please sit down. I will ring for tea, or…or a restorative. Brandy?”

Esmeralda shook her head. “No, but thank you, Lady Lacey. I have been working day and night since you visited me, and I am tired. That is all, merely tired. So much depended upon this meeting.”

Olivia frowned, reading the other woman’s face. “Perhaps you are not so successful as you pretend, Madam Esmeralda.”

Esmeralda gave a wry smile. “No, I am not. There have been problems with a certain lady—and I use the term loosely—with a vicious tongue. She claims I made her ridiculous and now she has set out to destroy me by driving away my customers. I have very few left, and if she has her way, soon I will have none.”

Olivia pushed Esmeralda gently down into her chair, and then seated herself opposite, after ringing the bell for tea. “Who is this person?” And, when the modiste hesitated, plainly loath to make her situation worse by gossiping: “Never fear, I know very few people in London, and I would not repeat what you tell me anyway.”

“It is the Earl of Marchmont’s mistress, Mrs. Cathcart. The earl dotes on her and she is very spoiled. If you go into London society you will see her, because although she may be a fallen woman, she is related to so many respectable families she receives most of their invitations.”

“A dangerous enemy indeed,” Olivia said thoughtfully. “I wonder if she will be at the ball tomorrow night.”

“The Querrols’ ball?” Esmeralda’s eyes sparkled suddenly, and Olivia realized the modiste was not nearly as old as she had thought—it was her tired eyes and careworn face that made her seem so. “Yes, she will be there. I believe she is wearing yellow…”

“Then I will wear your masterpiece.”

At once Esmeralda jumped up and hurried over to a bag beside the bolts of cloth. She produced a tape measure. “I don’t think it will require a great deal of altering, but anything that does need doing can be done very quickly, I promise you.”

“Of course.”

The next few moments were taken up with measurements and then the dress was taken upstairs and Olivia tried it on. Estelle, when she arrived to help, seemed more breathless than usual, and her eyes widened at the sight of Olivia. “Lady Lacey, you look like a fairy princess,” she gasped.

Olivia thought herself rather too tall for a fairy princess, but the dress certainly suited her and she did feel somewhat ethereal. Would Nic be impressed? She hoped so. This dress was perfect for romance, perfect for love.

And therein lay the problem, because Olivia was in love with her husband, and she had no idea whether he was in love with her.

“My lady?”

Estelle and Esmeralda were looking at her curiously, and Olivia shook herself out of endless musings over Nic.

“Madam Esmeralda wants to know whether you’d like her to complete any more dresses for your stay in London,” Estelle explained.