Dilly Court - The Button Box - Gripping historical romance from the Sunday Times Bestseller

‘I have a package for Miss Jones,’ she said firmly.

Joss took off his top hat and tucked it under his arm. ‘James will see that she gets it.’ Joss curved his lips into a lazy smile as he slowly peeled off his kid gloves.

Clara tightened her grip on the package. ‘Thank you, sir, but I really need to speak to Miss Jones in person.’

‘Oh, all right, if you insist. James, I want you to find Miss Jones and ask her to come to the morning parlour.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Holding himself stiffly erect, James headed for the back stairs.

‘Come, Miss Carter. I’ll show you to the morning parlour. It’s much warmer in there and you’ll be more comfortable.’

‘Thank you, but I really can’t stay long. I had to close the shop.’

‘Really? An inconvenience, I’m sure.’ Joss led the way across the wide entrance hall and ushered her into an elegant reception room where a fire burned in the grate. He laid his hat on a rosewood side table together with his gloves. ‘Do take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Would you like some refreshment?’

Clara remained standing. ‘No, sir. Thank you, but as I explained I have to get back to the shop.’

‘Ah, yes. The shop – it’s rather small, isn’t it? I mean it can’t provide much of an income.’

‘It’s a living, sir. I’m only just starting out in the drapery business, but I have ambition to go much further.’ She glanced around, taking in her surroundings with a feeling of envy. The morning parlour had been decorated and furnished with a feminine touch, and no expense had been spared. The delicate blues and greys of the silk upholstery and the elegant furniture seemed dwarfed by Joss Comerford’s presence.

He unbuttoned his greatcoat and perched on a chair that seemed too fragile to bear his weight. ‘Have you indeed? I’d like to hear more about that.’ He stretched his legs out to the fire.

‘There’s not much to tell. It’s a dream really, but when I’ve made enough money I’d like to rent premises in Oxford Street. I’d start quite small and I’d build up gradually until I had a treasure house filled with beautiful things at a price that most people could afford.’

‘That sounds wonderful, but aren’t there already several department stores in Oxford Street?’

‘The more, the better. It would bring people in from the country, and with the railways spreading ever further it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that people could come to London just for the day. Imagine Christmas with lights and decorations all along the street and shop windows filled with luxury items.’

‘By golly, you’ve sold the idea to me already. When will you start this odyssey?’

Clara folded her hands tightly around the parcel of lace. ‘As I said, sir, it’s just a dream at present, but one day—’ She broke off at the sound of a faint tap on the door.

‘Enter,’ Joss said grandly.

The door opened and Miss Jones sidled into the room. ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

‘Miss Carter has something for you, Jones.’ Joss rose to his feet. ‘I’ll wait for you in the hall, Miss Carter.’

Clara shot him a questioning look. ‘Why, sir? I explained that I have to hurry home.’

‘I’m going your way. Another luncheon at Simpson’s. A bit of a bore, but I have to keep in touch with friends.’ He left the room, allowing the door to swing shut.

‘What is this, Miss Carter?’ Miss Jones looked down her pointed nose, glaring at Clara as if she had done something unforgivable.

‘I had to go to Oxford Street to get the lace, Miss Jones.’ Clara handed her the neatly wrapped package. ‘They didn’t have any blonde lace and the assistant told me that it went out of fashion some time ago.’

‘I don’t know about that. I always thought it was a favourite with royalty,’ Miss Jones said stiffly. ‘You provided us with such lace from your little shop.’ The emphasis she put on the last two words made them sound like an insult.

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