Alex sighed as she poured out the coffee into elegant eggshell-blue-and-gold china. ‘So much energy! It’s all quite unfair. I can barely get out of bed in the morning, I’ve become such a sloth.’
‘You do have a good excuse,’ Diana said with a glance at Alex’s waist. She looked strangely wistful for a moment, likely thinking of her own sadness, before she smiled again.
Alex laughed, and wrapped her lace jacket closer around her. ‘I suppose I am very lucky. I haven’t felt sick at all, just tired. So...well...wallowy. I haven’t been to any good parties lately, so you two must tell me all about the glorious fun you’ve been having.’
Diana took a nibble of one of the iced cakes. ‘I fear embassy life isn’t terribly glamorous. I serve tea to the other wives and talk to old men at dinner, and dash around town leaving calling cards everywhere. But I am having fun writing those new articles for Ladies’ Weekly, all the Paris fashions for summer!’
‘You have to tell me more about what we should order for the Season,’ Emily said. ‘We sold so many of those feather-trimmed shawls last year, before anyone else knew they would be the fashion, thanks to you.’
‘Have you been terribly busy lately with the business?’ Alex asked. ‘No time for fun at all?’
Emily flashed them a quick, mischievous smile, remembering the ‘fun’ they always got up to at school. Sneaking out of their rooms after lights-out for midnight picnics, swimming in the pond, organising lessons to learn the ‘shocking’ modern dances. ‘Oh, there is always time for a bit of fun, just as there was at Miss Grantley’s between studying. There have been some amusing parties in London this year. And I’ve been doing some work with the Women’s Franchise League and have met some fascinating people there.’
Diana’s eyes gleamed. ‘Oh, do tell, Em! I have been reading about them. They have such wonderful ideas.’
‘I would like to help them, too, if I can,’ Alex said. ‘If this child is a girl, imagine how the world could be different for her!’
Emily had known they would be interested. She told them about Mrs Hurst and the Pankhursts’ salons at their Russell Square house, the wonderful ideas they were circulating, as well as a little about her errand in Paris to expand the League’s reach. ‘In fact, I have a meeting with them this afternoon, so I must be going soon.’
‘Oh, no! We have so much to talk about still,’ Alex cried.
‘You must both come to dinner next week,’ Diana said. ‘I am planning a little party. Nothing grand at all, no business, just family. Which is you two, of course, and Malcolm. And Chris is in Paris, too. It would be such fun.’
Emily remembered dancing with Chris at the café and she felt her cheeks turn warm. She took a quick sip of coffee. ‘Yes, certainly. I can’t wait!’
Diana and Alex exchanged a glance. ‘You should bring an escort, too, Em, if you like,’ Diana said, in a much-too-casual tone. ‘We always want to meet friends of yours.’
Emily looked at them suspiciously. ‘What sort of escort?’
‘Oh, you’ve always had so many admirers,’ Alex said.
‘And someone told us that James Hertford has been most attentive at parties in London lately,’ said Diana. ‘He is so handsome!’
‘And so sweet,’ Alex added. ‘He’s always buying gifts for his sister and aunts at Gordston’s.’
Emily had not been expecting to hear a specific ‘suitor’ named and felt rather flustered. Of course James Hertford was handsome, and had been kind, but surely that was just because he was ashamed of his erstwhile friend’s bad behaviour towards her. ‘Oh, no! That is, he is very nice, but you two know me. I am far too busy for serious romance.’
‘Oh, but surely not always,’ Alex protested.
‘Even if I was not so busy, I don’t think I would see Mr Hertford that way.’ She had another flashing memory of Chris, laughing as he chased her through the maze, and she glanced away.
‘If you say so,’ Diana murmured.
Alex daintily dabbed her napkin at her lips and gave a sly little smile. ‘But perhaps our darling Em doesn’t need our help at all when it comes to finding an escort. Maybe there is a very good reason why Mr Hertford is not her type.’
Emily froze, wondering what Alex was implying. ‘What do you mean?’
Di’s eyes widened. She was always eager to spot a good story. ‘Alex! Do you know a bit of gossip here that I do not?’
Emily tried to laugh, to keep from blushing. ‘Oh, yes. Do tell me what I haven’t learned yet about my life.’
Alex grinned and reached for the plate of dainty iced cakes. ‘Aren’t these scrumptious? I just can’t get enough of them lately.’
‘Alexandra!’ Diana cried. ‘You are always so rotten at keeping secrets.’
Emily just wanted to sink under the table. No one could tease like her friends.
‘I have heard that Emily has been seen around the city with none other than our own Christopher. He was even seen at her father’s house in London one evening!’ Alex said happily.
‘No!’ Diana cried. She sat back in her chair, staring wide-eyed at Emily. Emily tried to will herself not to blush even more, not to give away her thoughts at all. She and Chris were meant to be courting after all. She just hadn’t counted on how hard it would be to fool Di and Alex. They knew her all too well.
‘Em,’ Diana said, ‘are you and Chris really courting? Oh, how wonderful! We would be truly sisters then.’
‘It’s not like that, really,’ Emily quickly protested. ‘Chris is doing some business with my father and we just happened to see each other now and then. He’s always been friendly. He likes all the ladies.’
Alex suddenly went from looking smugly happy to rather concerned. Emily wasn’t sure which way was worse. ‘Oh, but surely there has always been a—a rather wonderful little frisson between you.’
‘Not at all,’ Emily said briskly. She tried to butter a bit of toast, but ended up crumpling it. ‘He is my friend. Our friend. He is doing me a favour of sorts. That’s all.’
‘A favour?’ Diana gasped. ‘Do tell us.’
Emily was saved at that moment by a commotion at the café doorway. Lady Smythe-Tomas appeared, surrounded by at least five handsome admirers. She held on to the arms of two of them, the tall emerald-green feathers on her hat waving as she laughed.
Alex glanced over at her. ‘Ah, Lady Smythe-Tomas. I wondered when we might see her. She comes nearly every day to the store when she is in Paris.’
Diana frowned. ‘Was there not some dispute last year about her bill?’
‘Oh, that’s all done now,’ Alex answered. ‘Her accounts are paid most promptly.’
Emily thought of Lady Smythe-Tomas, her dashing reputation, her high style. ‘She seems much more the sort of lady for Chris than me. Glamorous, fashionable, confident...’
‘And busy,’ Diana murmured, examining the lady’s coterie of suitors.
Alex giggled. ‘She is the sort of lady for the man Chris once was, maybe, but surely we are all growing older. Our lives are changing. Even Chris’s. He couldn’t go on behaving like that for ever.’
‘And I am growing older, too? A grey spinster?’ Emily teased, even though she did feel a pang at the thought. She saw how happy Alex and Di were in their married lives and she had to admit she rather envied that.
‘Oh, not you, Em!’ Alex declared. ‘You will never age a bit, drat you. All that boundless energy, that glorious hair. You are a wonder and you deserve to be happy with someone who deserves you.’
‘If one could be found.’ Alex sighed. ‘I know no one good enough.’
‘Oh, but Chris is wonderful, you all know that,’ Diana said. ‘And then I wouldn’t be all alone in that family any more.’
Luckily, the waiter brought more coffee, and they dropped the ‘romance’ questions and chatted about other things until Emily had to le
ave for her meeting. She tried to ignore all the tempting displays on her way to the door, all the hats with their luscious satin ribbons, the wafts of sweet perfume, but it was not an easy task.
As she waited by the grand staircase for the doorman to call her hansom, Emily drew on her gloves and tried not to buy another hat. She studied the streams of shoppers flowing in and out of the doors, eavesdropping on their words as she tried to imagine what supplies she should suggest her father purchase next.
Suddenly she glimpsed a familiar face among them. James Hertford, sweeping off his silk hat to reveal his glossy dark hair. Had she somehow conjured him by listening to Alex and Di’s gossip? There was no avoiding him, for he had seen her, too. She couldn’t help but remember the ball in London, when Chris had to sweep in to carry her away from Hertford when he was insistent about talking to her. But then again, many men were like that when they decided to court a lady, so awkward. She was certainly overreacting. She made herself smile at him.
‘Miss Fortescue,’ he said, bowing over her hand. When he looked up at her, his smile was wide, his eyes glowing. He really was very handsome. Why could she not feel that strange little flutter when he looked at her, the one Chris could always conjure? Surely it could make her life easier.
‘Mr Hertford. How extraordinary to see you in Paris. And at Gordston’s!’
‘My mother sent me on an errand here. It’s her favourite shop.’
‘I can certainly see why,’ Emily said with a smile.
‘Maybe you could help me? I need to find the fans. I am tasked with procuring one with an...er... Versailles design, painted on silk. I’m quite hopeless with it, I must say.’
Emily laughed. ‘Now that I can help you with. It’s on the way to the door—shall I walk with you?’
They made their way through the grand, galleried foyer, thronged with shoppers and gawkers, and the uniformed doorman bowed and opened the glass portal to let in the heat and light of the real world outside. She took him to the fan counter, its glistening glass spread with feathers, silk, bamboo.
‘It is so lovely to see you again, James,’ Emily said. ‘Are you in Paris long?’
‘Long enough to see you again, I hope,’ he answered. ‘Would you join me for supper at Véfour one night soon?’
Emily thought of her friends’ teasing about ‘romance’, and Le Grand Véfour was nothing if not a romantic place. Even a modern lady like herself couldn’t be seen courting two men at once. She turned away, busying herself with adjusting her gloves. ‘I am going to be so busy while I’m here. Business is so prosperous these days.’
He smiled down at her, his brown eyes wide with eagerness. He had always been such an insistent suitor and it seemed any rumours about her and Chris had not put him off yet. ‘Surely a lady as lovely as you must make some time for fun! Life cannot be all work.’
He sounded just like Alex and Diana. And maybe he was right. Maybe she should have more fun. Maybe if she made room for suitors in her life, Chris would lose some of his strange attractiveness. But Mr Hertford was not that man. ‘No, indeed. I have been wanting to try the lobster bisque at Véfour, everyone says it’s heavenly. I’ll send you a message if my schedule lightens.’
‘I’m at the Perrier Hotel.’ James took her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to it. ‘I look forward so much to seeing you again.’
Emily smiled at him and stepped out into the crowded street. She automatically scanned the pavements for any threat, as she always did lately when she was outside. She still grew tense and cold to remember how it felt to be chased, grabbed, to feel so helpless. But there was only the usual noise and motion of Paris, the crush of carriages, the sea of feathered hats, the tangle of laughter. At the end of the Champs-Élysées, she glimpsed the Arc de Triomphe rising out of the sunny mist, solid and reassuring, the French flag fluttering above it.
Even if someone there did mean her harm, she never could have found them in such a press. She tugged her gloves tighter and looked about for a cab.
* * *
The Paris offices of the League were in a much quieter neighbourhood than Gordston’s, a narrow lane ending at the river that was lined with tall houses, their windows shuttered. Respectable, but not grand. Emily checked the address she had been given and found her way through a courtyard gate and up a winding staircase to a flat on the top floor. She could hear the murmur of voices behind some of the doors, smell the scent of luncheons cooking, garlic and wine, but the corridors were empty.
To her surprise, a familiar face from London society opened the door. Laura, Lady Smythe-Tomas. As usual, she was dressed in the height of fashion, a walking dress of bright green-and-gold-striped silk, a velvet hat on her whirls of auburn hair, emeralds winking in her ears. Just like when she was at Gordston’s earlier. But her eyes were narrowed, almost cautious.
‘Miss Fortescue, you are here at last!’ Lady Smythe-Tomas exclaimed happily, belying that flash of an expression. She took Emily’s arm and tugged her into the flat, quite as if they were at a society drawing-room soirée and were the best of friends. ‘Would you like something to drink? I have the most charming Parisian elderflower liqueur.’
Emily was rather flustered. She had been expecting someone rather more—stern and businesslike. ‘I—well, I was looking for the offices of the Women’s Franchise League.’
‘Yes, of course. That’s me! Well, me in Paris, for now. We are searching for new offices, more officers, as we speak.’ Lady Smythe-Tomas made her way to a glass and gilt cart, laden with crystal decanters and pyramids of glasses. Besides the cart, the rest of the furniture was dark, old-fashioned, solid, matching the green-velvet curtains at the windows, the dark carpet underfoot. Lady Smythe-Tomas looked like a peacock dropped into a haunted, dark forest. ‘I am so glad you’re here. Mrs Hurst does so sing your praises. Ladies with your business acumen are just what we need.’
Emily took off her hat and gloves and cautiously perched on the edge of a velvet sofa. ‘I do find the work to be of such importance.’
‘And so it is, vital. Both for ourselves and our descendants, if we are to reach our full potential in life. Exercise our intelligence and talents.’
‘Of course.’
‘Herr Friedland will be here very soon.’ Lady Smythe-Tomas handed Emily a glass and took a sip from her own. ‘Delicious, isn’t it? So refreshing in the warm weather.’
Emily took a tentative taste and almost choked on the strong mixture of herbs, lemon and, shockingly, gin. She feared she could get too used to it. ‘Delicious.’
‘Now, tell me, Miss Fortescue, how much do you know about our work here in Paris?’
‘Not very much, I fear. There wasn’t time to learn much about it before I left London.’ Emily quickly repeated what she had learned before she came to France, about the former Queen of Prussia, Crown Princess of Prussia and Herr Friedland. Talking seemed a good excuse not to gulp down the elderflower drink. She didn’t quite trust Lady Smythe-Tomas, yet she couldn’t really explain why. Maybe it was the sharpness hidden behind fluffy laughter. The lady rather reminded Emily of Chris in some strange way. Maybe they would make a suitable couple.
‘It is so important that we make good contacts in Germany,’ Lady Smythe-Tomas said. ‘But, as I am sure you know so well, we must be careful who we trust, at all times.’
Her words echoed Emily’s thoughts precisely. ‘I do tend to be cautious. It’s the only way not to be taken advantage of in business.’
‘Exactly. And we ladies are always underestimated. That is one of our strengths. We can strike from the shadows and no one expects us.’ A knock sounded at the door and Lady Smythe-Tomas smiled as she drank the last of her glass. ‘Ah, there is our guest now.’
Emily watched cautiously as Lady Smythe-Tomas opened the door, admitting a corpulent figure in an astonishing bright blue-checked suit. He looked rather walrus-like, with a sweeping brown m
oustache, pink cheeks and a fringe of grey and brown hair escaping from beneath his bowler hat. But his eyes, small and bright green, were sharp. Behind him was a tiny, birdlike lady in brown velvet, her dark eyes sharp as she took everything in.
‘My dear fräuleins, how lovely to meet you at last,’ he boomed, bowing low several times. ‘You know my friend, Madame Renard? She is the French counterpart to your Mrs Hurst.’
Lady Smythe-Tomas smiled at the sparrow-like lady. ‘We have not met, but I have heard of the madame, of course. This is my friend Mademoiselle Fortescue, also from the League. She can be trusted with any of our business. Do join us for a drink.’
As they settled themselves around the table, Lady Smythe-Tomas poured drinks and chatted about the League’s work, its aims, with Madame Renard murmuring agreement. ‘Of course, we are always hoping to expand the reach of our message,’ Lady Smythe-Tomas said.
‘As do we, fräulein,’ Herr Friedland agreed, gulping down his drink. ‘And certainly our dear Princess. She wishes to aid you in any way she can, but she must be very discreet.’
‘We could expect nothing less,’ Lady Smythe-Tomas said with a smile. She watched the herr closely, as Madame Renard watched her.
Emily frowned, wondering what was really happening. What was not being said.
‘Perhaps your own Mrs Hurst could be the answer,’ Friedland said. ‘She has many contacts, including some in the naval office, who I am sure will always have their Queen’s daughter’s interests at heart. If we could meet with some of them...’
‘I am quite certain that could be arranged,’ Lady Smythe-Tomas answered.
‘Then you can meet me in the countryside soon, somewhere more—quiet,’ Madame Renard suddenly said. ‘We can discuss our mutual contacts there and come to an arrangement that would suit us all.’
Lady Smythe-Tomas narrowed her eyes as she studied the strange couple, then she nodded. ‘Of course. You must give me a few days to make a few enquiries. Mademoiselle Fortescue here can join me. She is our League’s officer here in the city.’
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