Page 29 of The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess
“Oh, my… I am from out of town and doubt I could afford a new bespoke dress, but I wanted to visit your shop and see if you might have any ready-made dresses available?”
The assistant frowned and said with a great deal of disdain, “I am afraid we do not cater to such a clientele. However, if you were to go to Shoreditch, youmightbe able to find something from a barrow.”
“I am sorry to have bothered you,” Lucy said, feeling the sting of the attendant’s reply. But as she left, she gazed upon the bolts of beautiful silk and muslin fabrics that were not to be for her with her modest budget.
Even though there were yet more lovely shops to explore, she decided to return to Aunt Hester’s. It appeared that London was not to be as welcoming as she had imagined.
As she returned, she saw George climbing out of the carriage. When he saw her, he gave her a big smile.
“You look happy,” she greeted. “Was your gallery visit a success?” She stifled any disappointment she might have from her morning’s shopping.
“It was,” he said taking her by the hand and leading her up the steps toward the house. “And I see you have been shopping,” he said, noticing her parcels. “Tell me all about your adventure, and I shall tell you mine—over a nice cup of tea.”
Miss Modesty was not at home, but Aunt Hester, always ready for a cup of tea, settled into the sitting room with them to hear their morning tales.
Both ladies were so pleased with the news of George’s sale of a painting. But Aunt Hester had to laugh when George recounted the story of the not so subtle advances of Lady Benton-Wright. “Oh, yes, she is quite well known in certain circles. She may appreciate art, but she appreciates a beautiful young man even more.”
Lucy blushed. This kind of talk was totally foreign to her provincial ways. And even George appeared to be nonplussed by such open conversation.”
“And you, Lucy?” George asked, trying to change the subject. “Did you find everything you were looking for in the shops?”
Lucy told of her visit to the bookstore but was embarrassed to mention the incident at the dress shop, until George insisted she tell him the full story.
“Outrageous. What rude behavior,” he said standing up from his chair. “Come with me.”
He took Lucy by the hand and practically ran out of the house with her.
“Show me the shop,” he insisted as they neared the shopping street.
She pointed out the dress shop, and he barged inside, still holding her hand tightly in his.
“Who was the culprit?” he asked looking around at several shop employees.
“Really, George, this is unnecessary. Let it be.”
“No. Was it you?” he asked pointing at one assistant.
The poor girl looked totally flummoxed. “Sir, what is this about?”
“This young lady came into your shop this morning and was treated with the rudest behavior. And I intend to sort this out right now.”
The offending assistant looked chagrined and hung her head. George immediately identified that she was the one and he went over to her.
“Who is your supervisor?” he asked.
An older lady came from the back of the shop. “Sir, what is this ruckus about?”
George explained his disapproval and the lady considered for a moment, and then said, “You are correct, that was inexcusable. And how may we satisfy you?”
George turned to Lucy briefly then back to the woman and said, “I want a dress made for this young lady—no, wait… two.” He turned to Lucy again. “What would you like? A gown?”
“Oh, George, I have no use for a gown. I only ever wear simple day dresses. But please, this is not something I can do.”
“You let me take care of this.” He turned back to the lady. “I want two dresses—nice dresses, but not gowns—for this lady. Please take her measurements and do whatever is necessary to expedite this order. We are to leave in a few days.”
“Impossible sir, it takes several weeks for us to make up each dress.”
“Then do what you can and ship them when they are ready.” He took out a card with the Grayson Manor address and pulled out a wad of cash from his coat pocket and slapped down twenty pounds. “Is that enough?”
