by Laura Landon
Jessica smiled. “I’m in need of a gown, Madame Lamont. In fact, I need several gowns.”
Madame Lamont clapped enthusiastically. “Oh yes.”
Jessica leaned closer to the dressmaker. “Perhaps you have something by that new designer all of London is talking about?” she said, keeping her voice loud enough to be heard.
Madame Lamont bowed slightly. “I think I have just the gown for you, my lady. If you will follow me?”
Jessica turned to the other ladies. “If you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” the countess answered, a pleased look on her face.
The marchioness, however, only gaped at her in astonishment.
“Close your mouth, Lady Crestwall,” the countess said, tapping her lightly on the arm with the tip of her parasol. “It is most unbecoming.”
Without another word, Jessica turned her back and followed Madame Lamont across the wide room and through a door marked PRIVATE. She wanted to turn around and relish the stunned look on Lady Crestwall’s face once more, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her legs trembled so violently she was lucky they had enough strength to carry her across the room. If she stopped, she would more than likely fall fat on her face.
“Thank you, Madame,” Jessica said as soon as the door had closed behind her. She released a huge sigh and leaned a hand against the back of the floral divan that sat in the middle of the room. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to last another minute out there. There were so many people. I didn’t know who would be speaking next.”
Melinda rushed to her side. “You were wonderful, Jess. No one suspected a thing. Did you see the look on poor Lady Crestwall’s face when Madame Lamont greeted you? We’re lucky she didn’t swoon on the spot.”
Jessica fisted her hand against her mouth. “She was so angry, she’ll never speak to me again.”
“She was about to give you the cut before Madame came out. Your reception gave her second thought.”
The room swam before her, and Jessica closed her eyes and gripped the cushions of the divan tighter.
Madame Lamont put her arm around her shoulder. “Come, sit down, my friend. I can tell it has been a most exhausting day for you.”
Jessica sat down on the end of the divan and Melinda sat next to her. Jessica gripped her hands in her lap and pressed her knees together to keep them from shaking.
“I am so proud of you, Jessica,” Madame Lamont said with a clap of her hands. “You can’t imagine my surprise when Corrine told me you were here.”
“I had little choice,” Jessica said, taking a deep breath. “My husband insisted I come. In fact, if it had not been for pressing business, he would be sitting here with me instead of Melinda. He is quite determined I improve my wardrobe.”
“Your new husband obviously has excellent taste. From what I see,” she said, staring at Jessica’s navy gown, “your wardrobe is in dire need of improvement. I cannot wait to meet him to tell him how much I agree with his decision.”
Madame Lamont moved a chair in front of Jessica and grinned a broad smile. “At first I could not believe the wonderful news. That my dear, dear friend, Jessica Stanton, had become the Countess of Northcote. How very lucky the earl is that he married you.”
Jessica smiled. “It all happened so fast I’ve barely had time to adjust to the change myself.”
“Have you told him you cannot…I mean, does he know…?”
“Yes,” Jessica answered. “Northcote knows I cannot hear. It’s hardly something I could keep from him for very long.”
Madame Lamont laughed. “My dear, dear friend. If you wanted, I do not doubt you would be able to hide your deafness forever. You are that good at reading what people say. I had met with you in secret for more than two years before I realized. And only then because the breeze from the window blew out the candle and we were in the dark.”
Jessica nodded, remembering that night. She hated the dark. Not being able to see or hear terrified her. It was as close to being totally helpless as she ever wanted to find herself. “But you did not seem surprised when I told you,” Jessica said.
“The knowledge was like a door that opened to answer all the questions that puzzled me. Why we had to meet in secret. Why the room was always so brightly lit. Why I always had to sit facing you.”
“I was afraid you would not want my designs if you found out I was deaf.”
Madame Lamont laughed. “It’s not necessary to hear to create. Your fabulous gowns come from in here.” The dressmaker pointed to her heart. “Such talent has nothing to do with here.” She pointed to her ears. “But you did not come here to talk of when we first met. What can I do for you?”
“I need your help,” Jessica said, leaning forward. “I must have a special gown made for this Friday. Is it possible?”
“For you, my lady, anything is possible.” Madame Lamont leaned closer. “Have you brought me anything special?” she asked. There was a twinkle in her eyes.
Jessica reached her hand to her pocket and pulled out one of the papers hidden there. She handed it to Madame Lamont, and Melinda stood to look over the dressmaker’s shoulder.
“By all the saints,” Madame Lamont said, clasping a hand over her mouth. “This is the most beautiful gown I have ever seen. Oh, what perfection. What exquisite detail.”
“It is remarkable, Jess,” Melinda said, sitting down beside her and reaching for her hands. “What color do you see for your gown?”
Jessica cleared her throat. “White. A creamy white with an underskirt of the softest shade of apricot satin.”
Madame Lamont bobbed her head up and down, clapping her hands in front of her. “Yes. Oh yes. The overskirt will be beaded with thousands of tiny pearls and the only other color on the gown will be an apricot velvet ribbon entwined through the lace. It will be magnificent!”
Melinda turned Jessica’s head so she would not miss her words. “Very special, Jess,” she agreed.
“Do you think Simon will be pleased, Mel?”
“I’m sure he will. You will be the most beautiful woman at the ball.”
The emotion in Melinda’s eyes forced Jessica to lower her gaze. “I hardly think I will be the most beautiful, but it’s important that I do not embarrass him.”
Melinda placed her finger beneath Jessica’s chin and lifted. “You will not embarrass him, Jess. You could never embarrass Northcote.”
Madame Lamont gained Jessica’s attention when she tapped her on the arm. “When I heard you had married, I was not sure I could look for any more creations from you. The Countess of Northcote, after all, may not have the need to create more designs.”
The breath caught in Jessica’s throat. “I will always have the need to create gowns, Madame. My designs are who I am. It’s what I do. Except now, it’s more important than ever that I keep what I do a secret.”
Madame Lamont smiled widely and bowed slightly. “Your secret is safe with me, my lady.”
Jessica took a deep breath just as the door opened and a girl in a gray and maroon-striped skirt stepped into the room.
“Excuse me, Madame. But the Duchess of Stratmore is here to inquire about her gown, and you said when she came you wanted to speak with her.”
“Yes. Oh yes.” Madame Lamont rose from her chair. “I will only be a moment,” she said, nodding to Jessica and to Melinda. “Explain to Mary which fabrics and colors you want, and she will bring them to you. I’m sure you already have your gown pictured in your mind’s eye,” she said with a twinkle and a bright grin.
“I do,” Jessica answered, fingering the design for her gown.
Madame Lamont turned when she reached the door. “I will be back as soon as I take care of the duchess, and then I had best meet with Lady Crestwall. She is a most frustrating and impatient woman, as you have probably already surmised.” She motioned for the assistant to come closer. “Mary is completely at your disposal until I return to you.”
When Madame Lamont exited the room, Jessica selected the
material and accessories for her ball gown. Then she pored through volumes of Madame Lamont’s private gallery. She recognized many of the creations she had designed and picked out a few of her favorites, making notes to alter them with a few minor changes so no one would recognize having seen them before. A neckline here. A collar and sleeves there. Epaulets of lace and ruffles replacing netting and gauze.
The simplest of the designs would be made into day dresses or gowns she would wear when she spent quiet evenings at home. The more elaborate of the designs would be changed into the special gowns Simon would expect the Countess of Northcote to wear when they went out.
After an hour of looking, Jessica had found eleven designs she would have Madame Lamont make for her. The twelfth was her special design of white silk moiré and soft apricot satin. She sighed gently when she looked at it again. It would indeed be very special.
With loving gentleness, she placed it to the side and turned back to her other gowns, losing herself in the kaleidoscope of fabrics and designs and colors placed before her. She set samples of finished satins and smooth silks and soft velvets beside the picture of each gown. Mixing and matching and comparing some of the finest materials she had ever seen, from rich brocades to versatile linens to exquisite laces, nothing skipped her notice. She hardly realized she was not alone. Each time a clerk brought more bolts of fabric into the room, she sifted through them with the enthusiasm of a child in a candy store.
Finally, she stepped back and looked at her finished selections. She rolled her shoulders to ease the burning stiffness and breathed a deep sigh. Done. Each pattern with the materials selected for it lay in a nice, neat row, waiting for a seamstress to begin work.
Jessica turned around. “What do you think?” she asked Melinda.
Melinda rose from the divan where she’d been observing for the last hour and more, and walked to the table. The expression on her face beamed with open adoration. “I think I will never again select a gown or decide what color to make it without you at my side. There is not one thing I would change on any of them.” Melinda placed her hand on Jess’s arm. “You love doing this, don’t you, Jess?”
“Yes. I cannot imagine doing anything else. I cannot imagine not being able to create. It’s something I can’t explain, Mel, but the designs and colors and fabrics are in here,” she said, pointing to her chest, “waiting to come out.”
“You are a marvel to watch. Truly, a wonder.”
“I don’t think that. I fear most people would think I’m crazed.” Jessica swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Or worse.”
The door opened behind them, and Melinda motioned for her to turn. Madame Lamont bustled through the door carrying a small bag. “Here,” she said, closing the door and turning the lock to make sure they were not interrupted. “I have brought payment for the design you delivered today. Do not think anything has changed, my lady. I have no intention of paying more for your designs just because you are titled.”
A bright smile covered Madame Lamont’s face, and both Jessica and Melinda laughed at her humor.
“I’m shocked, Madame,” Jessica said in mock surprise. “I was certain you would double my payment because of my new title.”
“I would double your coins only because of your talent, my friend. Never because of your title.”
They all laughed again as Madame Lamont placed the tiny velvet bag in Jessica’s hand. “I assume you do not want the money applied to the exorbitant bill your husband will receive.”
Jessica held the bag tight. “No. The money from the designs is mine. Lord Northcote will never know about it.”
“He will never discover your talent from me. But be sure to warn him of my bill.”
“Do not worry. Northcote ordered me to spare no expense. The ball we will attend Friday is far too important for him to worry about a paltry few hundred pounds in dressmaker’s fees.”
“Paltry?” Madame Lamont said with a shocked look on her face. “I will remind you of your words, my lady, when you have to explain my bill to your husband.”
They all laughed, then Jessica and Melinda moved to the door. “The gown will be ready by Friday, Madame?” Jessica asked to make sure.
“Yes. It shall be ready. My seamstresses are sewing tiny pearls on the silk already. They will work on nothing else until it is finished.”
“Thank you, Madame.”
Madame Lamont reached for Jessica’s hands and held them in her own. “No, Lady Northcote. I thank you. If not for you, I would be nothing. Your designs have made me famous. Your creations have gained me entrance to not only the cream of society, but to the queen herself. And your friendship is more valuable than the most precious gem in the world. I am rich beyond measure.”
Jessica was past words. When Madame Lamont opened her arms, Jessica took one step and held the dressmaker close. Jessica had such few friends, but those she had were so very special. “I must go now,” she said, fighting the emotion that wanted to dampen her eyes. “Thank you again for your help.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Madame Lamont answered, walking them to the door.
Every pair of eyes followed them, the gaping looks of shock and surprise still there.
Chapter 15
When they exited Madame Lamont’s shop, Sanjay stood beside the carriage waiting for them. “Did you have a good day, missy?” he asked, first helping Melinda into the carriage, then Jessica.
“Yes, Sanjay. A very good day.” She sat in the seat opposite Melinda and smoothed her skirt. “I’m afraid your master will think I had an outlandishly good day when he receives the bill.”
Sanjay laughed. “That will be the master’s worry, then,” he answered, making sure she could see his face. “Are we ready to go home, missy?”
“Yes,” Jessica answered, but Melinda jumped forward and reached for her hand.
“No. Wait. I forgot my reticule. I left it in Madame Lamont’s office.”
Jessica looked at Sanjay. “Would you mind returning for Lady Collingsworth’s reticule, Sanjay?”
Sanjay bowed low with a smile on his face. “Yes, missy. I will be right back.”
Jessica watched Sanjay turn away, and when he disappeared into the shop, her gaze moved to three men sitting on a wooden bench in a little shaded area Madame Lamont had for bored husbands and those not inclined to mingle amongst a gaggle of gossiping women discussing fashion and finery.
She recognized two of the men—Baron Farley and Viscount Reddington. Farley was a plump, middle-aged gentleman with a shiny bald crown gleaming in the bright sunshine. Jessica thought his head would soon be deep red if he didn’t put on the hat he held in his hand.
Reddington sat in the middle, and Jessica recognized him immediately by his long mane of snow-white hair. Few elderly men were blessed with such beautiful white hair as the viscount had.
“Who is the man sitting on the bench beneath that big shade tree, Mel? The man holding the gold-handled walking stick?”
Melinda leaned forward in her seat and looked out the window. “That is the Earl of Chitwood. He’s probably paying court to Lady Crestwall. Rumor has it that the earl is in dire need of the money the marchioness was left by her late husband.”
Jessica watched their mouths as they discussed their surprise at seeing the Northcote carriage in public and the strange Indian servant who had been waiting in the sunshine for the past two hours.
“Did you catch a glimpse of Northcote’s new bride?” Baron Farley asked, dabbing at the top of his head with a white lace handkerchief.
“Only from the back as she left the dressmaker’s.” The earl turned his stick in front of him and then raised his hand to smooth the red satin cravat at his neck. “Lillian says she is quite common. Wears the most atrocious gowns imaginable. She cannot fathom someone as well-bred and refined as Northcote
marrying her of his own free will. She is sure there must have been pressure applied from some quarter.”
Reddington raised his shoulders,
and both men turned to him. “The talk at White’s,” he said, nodding his head, “is that the shy little recluse came with a very large bank account. That would make even the most reluctant of men overlook a multitude of flaws in a wife. A large dowry often more than makes up for the lack of a title as well as a homely face and no personality.”
“And I cannot think of anyone more desperate for a dowry than Northcote,” the earl said.
“But so desperate that he would saddle himself with Tanhill’s stepsister?” the baron asked, twisting his hat in his hand.
The earl tapped his walking stick on the cobblestones a few times and then continued. “I have it on good authority that Northcote had no choice. He either took her as his wife or he lost everything. Although, what he thinks when he compares her to Rosalind is far beyond me.”
“Perhaps he no longer thinks of Rosalind,” Reddington said. The stunned looks both men gave him showed their disbelief.
“Would you be able to wake up each morning facing another woman, and not think that you could be waking up next to the beautiful Rosalind?” the earl said.
Baron Farley wiped the perspiration from his forehead again. “Not a chance.” He stopped in midmotion. “What do you think will happen when Rosalind and Northcote come face-to-face? I’m surprised they haven’t already. She’s bound to want things to be as they were before.”
“But he is married now,” the earl said.
Baron Farley lifted his head and laughed. “Do you think a wedding band will cause Rosalind a moment’s hesitation? If it does, it will be the first time.”
The Earl of Chitwood gripped his outstretched hands on the gold handle of his walking stick and seriously contemplated the whole situation. “I can only tell you what I would do if I were Northcote. As soon as I was assured of an heir, I would pack my wife off to the country so I would be free to set Rosalind up as my mistress. I can’t imagine Northcote keeping his dowdy wife underfoot here in London while he is out having a gay time with the beautiful Rosalind. I doubt his lovely mistress would be adverse to spending the Northcote wealth for a second time.”