Really? He narrowed his eyes at the doll. The dress was some fancy silky stuff, and it revealed quite a bit of the doll’s shape above the neckline. Revelation came like a flash. He’d seen something like it in his mother’s drawing room as a boy. ‘They are dressmaker’s dolls.’
Both women looked at him as if he was a dolt.
‘You see, mademoiselle,’ the woman said, ‘I was just beginning my business in Paris. I had left my old mistress to start on my own. I had one very important client, a woman at Court. She would have made my name but—’ She made a chopping motion with her hand. ‘There was nothing. No work. No food. Everything we had we left behind.’ Tears welled in her brown eyes. ‘Family. Money. Everything. Henri was positive we could start again. But for that I need a patron. I have no contacts here in England. No money for a shop. For fabric.’
‘So if we give you money to open a shop, you will tell us what we want to know.’
The woman’s face hardened. She shook her head. ‘That is only part of it. You will wear the gowns. Go to parties. Talk of my work. Then I will give you the information you seek.’
She was using them. Imposing on Minette in the worst possible way. Anger surged in Freddy’s veins. He rose to his feet and glared at the woman, who seemed to shrink in her chair. ‘That will take weeks. I am sorry, madame, but there are other ways to obtain this information.’
‘Freddy is right,’ Minette said also rising. ‘We do not have time—’
‘Two weeks,’ the woman said, her face white, her voice weak, scared. ‘I can do it all in two weeks.’ She glanced over at her daughter. ‘Please. For the sake of my children.’
‘Not a day over two weeks,’ Minette said.
‘No,’ Freddy said. ‘That is too long to have him running freely around England.’
The woman’s eyes became crafty, as if she sensed she could drive a wedge between them and come out a winner. ‘The man you seek, he has much to do before he is ready. You will not want him alone. You will want his web.’ She nodded. ‘Web. That is what Henri called it. Move too soon and you will cut off the head, but you will not have the body.’
‘If she’s right...’ Minette said, looking at him.
He clenched his jaw so hard he felt his back teeth give. ‘If she’s lying, her children will be orphans.’
A satisfied smile crossed the Frenchwoman’s face. Clearly she did not believe the threat any more than Minette did, because she was shaking the woman’s hand. ‘It is a bargain.’
Freddy reached into the pocket in his coat. ‘How much do you need to get you started?’
The woman’s eyes gleamed. ‘A hundred pounds. It will rent the shop and the accommodation above and buy enough fabric for the first gown.’ She narrowed her eyes, her gaze running over Minette. ‘A carriage gown like this one,’ she said, picking up the doll dressed in green velvet with fancy decoration down the front. ‘Are you to attend a ball soon?’
‘My engagement ball is in a couple of weeks,’ Minette said. ‘Many important people will attend. It is to be held at my fiancé’s estate in Kent.’
The woman beamed. ‘You shall wear my gown.’
‘Understand this, madame,’ Freddy said. ‘If this delay causes me to fail in my task to find this man, you will not like the consequences.’
The woman’s gaze flew to Minette and back to him. ‘I assure you all will be well.’ She picked up a small cloth bag at her feet and pulled out a bunch of string. ‘I will measure now and send a note to say when I will come to you for a fitting. Then we will choose the fabric for the rest of the gowns. Please, stand and I will help you unclothe.’
Minette rose and turned her back to the woman. ‘Freddy, please. Madame Vitesse will help us.’
Madame Vitesse was helping her all right. Helping her to be naked.
Freddy’s body tightened at the thought of seeing her wearing nothing but little bits of string. Inwardly cursing, he turned his back. ‘Hurry up. I don’t want to keep my horses waiting any longer than is needed.’
A low laugh from Minette said she didn’t believe his impatience for a moment.
It must have been the hoarseness in his voice.
* * *
‘That went excellently well,’ Freddy said, once they were back on the road. ‘The woman gulled you. Gowns.’ He snorted.
The derisive edge in his voice brought Minette straighter in her seat. ‘It could have been worse.’
‘I suppose it could. She could have asked me to dress every lady in the ton.’
‘You are being a bear. This way you will get both him and his men.’
He grunted. ‘If I didn’t know better, I might think she knew about this betrothal of ours before we did.’
She winced. ‘About that. As soon as we have dealt with Moreau, we will announce our engagement is at an end.’
He sent her a look full of disgust. ‘And how do you propose to do that?’
‘I’ll cry off.’
‘Wonderful. Tell me what other schemes there are floating around in that lovely head of yours.’
‘There is no need for sarcasm.’
‘I’m not being sarcastic. I simply want to know what I am in for next.’
Why was he arguing about this? He had made it quite clear he didn’t want to wed her any more than she did him. Contrary man. No matter what she said, he would argue. And yet... She frowned. ‘Are you saying you actually want this marriage?’
The glance he gave her was full of exasperation and something else. Bleakness? Loneliness? ‘I’m saying we don’t have a choice. What about Gabe and your sister? If you don’t care about anyone else, what about their sensibilities?’
‘I will simply inform them we discovered we did not suit after all.’
His chest rose and fell with a huge sigh. A man tried to the limit of his patience. She braced for his next assault. It wasn’t long in coming. ‘After what Sparshott and his daughter saw, your reputation will be ruined, Minette. Those things don’t go away. There will be no decent men throwing their hats in the ring. Not after that. You need the protection of my name.’
For a man who had been so set against marrying, his insistence was odd. Something inside her twisted painfully. Longing. Surely not. The man was marrying her to preserve his honour. Using her for his own purposes, as Pierre had used her. She wasn’t fool enough to think it could possibly be more. ‘I don’t want to get married. To you or anyone else. You don’t even like me.’ Dash it, why had she given voice to that little bit of resentment?
‘I don’t dislike you.’ His voice was arctic.
‘In truth? When you think I planned to trap you into marrying me?’
He winced. ‘I beg your pardon. I am as much to blame as you for what happened.’
She gasped theatrically. ‘Are you actually apologising?’
‘Now who is being sarcastic?’
She laughed. ‘Touché, Your Grace.’
He smiled, albeit a little unwillingly and fleetingly. Still, it made her heart feel a little lighter to see his expression ease. He looked much younger, more approachable. Perhaps... But no. She was right. When this was over they would part company. Because when this was over, even his honour wouldn’t be enough to make him want her as his wife.
A