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Marissa flushed at both compliments and rose. Marcus got to his feet in response. ‘Jane is quite right, as usual. I will retire,’ she said. ‘We have all had a fatiguing day, with the prospect of another tomorrow. Goodnight, Marcus.’
She smiled and turned to leave, but he came and took her hand in his, brushing his lips lightly over her knuckles in a formal salute. ‘Goodnight, Marissa.’
Marcus continued to stand after she had left, gazing thoughtfully at where she had sat. Marissa was an enigma to him. Behind the perfect facade of control and elegance was a laughing, passionate, instinctive young woman and yet the passion seemed to go only so far and was strangely innocent, at variance with her previously married state. It was almost as if it was curbed by something. He searched his mind for the word, but only fear came to mind. That was too preposterous. He shook his head in denial and went to pour himself another brandy from the decanter. What in the world could Marissa have to be afraid of?
Chapter Fifteen
‘Oh, Marissa, may I really have the figured silk?’ Nicci breathed. ‘It is so lovely.' She twisted and turned in front of the cheval glass, holding her hands away from the white fabric as though afraid to touch it.
‘Yes, I think it will be perfect as your best ball gown. But, Madame, it must be cut a little higher in the bodice and I am not certain about the silver floss at the hem. Jane, what do you think?’
Jane turned from her scrutiny of several bolts of muslin and considered the gown. ‘I agree, dear. It is too fussy for Lady Nicole. I always believe that understatement is better on a young lady.’
‘Might I suggest a pearl beading, as we have on this gown?’ Madame Lefevre crooked a finger and an assistant scurried forward with a sample.
‘Yes, very pretty, and if that could be repeated on the puff sleeves along the line of the lace…’
‘But, yes,’ the modiste exclaimed. ‘Your ladyship has impeccable taste. May I show Lady Nicole any other gowns?’
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p; The little assistant, who seemed scarcely older than Nicole, brought the ladies glasses of orgeat and almond wafer biscuits and they reviewed their purchases.
‘Now, we have the white silk ball gown for best, the almond green for less formal parties, the fawn walking dress with the chocolate-brown pelisse…’ Jane ticked off on her fingers. ‘Your riding habit we will have tailored, your country one will do for the meantime. What you are lacking are simple day dresses. I suggest we visit some of the linen drapers and select some dress lengths for Mary to make up for you.’
Nicci clapped her hands with sheer pleasure. ‘More dresses? Oh, yes please!’
They arranged for the delivery of the new gowns as soon as possible and made their way out to the waiting barouche. Nicci’s dread of being seen in an open carriage in a dress of less than fashionable cut had been forgotten in the excitement of driving behind her brother’s newly acquired matched bays with a liveried coachman on the box and two footmen standing behind.
Marissa consulted her notebook. ‘Shoes next, I think. Then Grafton House for dress lengths and we will end at Dickens and Smith for stockings and trimmings. Bond Street, please, Henry,’ she ordered the coachman. ‘Seymour’s shoe shop.’
The shoe shop was more a boudoir than a shop. Its curtains were of silk, the patrons were seated upon divans arranged tastefully around the room and, despite the sunshine outside, the interior was lit by discreet lamps of fashionable design.
There was one other customer already seated, an assistant kneeling at her feet slipping a daring scarlet kid slipper onto her foot. She looked up and smiled when she saw who had entered.
‘My dear Lady Longminster. How well you look and what a pleasure it is to see you back in Society again.’
‘Lady Valentine.’ Marissa went to take the other woman’s proffered hand. ‘May I make known to you my companion, Miss Venables, and my cousin, Lady Nicole Southwood? Jane, Nicole: Lady Valentine.’
The older woman cast an openly appraising glance over Nicole. ‘So, you are the new Earl’s sister from the West Indies, are you not?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Nicci said, bobbing a curtsey but looking from under her lashes at the young man in uniform who was lounging negligently against the wall, apparently waiting for her ladyship.
Lady Valentine caught the look and waved him forward. ‘I had quite forgotten you were there, Andrew. Lady Longminster, ladies, may I make known to you Captain Andrew Cross of the Seventh Light Dragoons? Andrew: Lady Longminster, Lady Nicole Southwood, Miss Venables.’
The Captain swept the ladies a bow, his cropped dark hair gleaming in the subdued light. Nicci batted her eyelashes, clearly admiring his red jacket, gold braid and highly polished boots.
‘Sit here beside me, all of you,’ Lady Valentine suggested, patting the seat. ‘Are you here to buy shoes?’
‘For Lady Nicole only this morning,’ Marissa said coolly, nodding to the assistant who was hovering in the background. The young woman hurried forward and listened attentively as Marissa outlined the types of shoes they were looking for.
Lady Valentine extended one foot, drawing up the hem of her jade-green walking dress to expose an elegant ankle and turning her foot in one direction then the other. ‘Andrew, what do you think of these? Will they do?’
Jane drew in her breath sharply at the impropriety, and glared at Nicole, who was openly staring at the older woman.
‘Very nice, Susan,’ Captain Cross drawled, his eyes lingering on the blatantly exposed ankle.
At that moment the assistant returned with some walking shoes and Nicci was distracted. Unable to resist it, Marissa enquired sweetly, ‘And how is Sir Michael, and your three dear little boys?’
