Stephanie Laurens - Impetuous Innocent

Half an hour passed in the most pleasant of occupations. Fancon had numerous gowns to choose from. Georgiana tried on a great many. There were fabrics, too, which could be fashioned to any style she wished. Georgiana found Bella’s interest infectious. And she could not resist the temptation to indulge in Fancon’s elegant creations. However, true to her word, she chose only two day dresses, one in softest lilac, the other a deep mauve. Both suited her well, their high waists outlining her youthful figure. She feared that Fancon would be irritated by her meagre order, particularly after the woman had been so insistent she try on such a great number of gowns. Yet nothing but the most complete equanimity showed on the modiste’s stern face.

Much discussion went into the creation of an evening gown. The styles which favoured her were easy enough to decide. Yet there was nothing suitable made up.

“Your colouring, Miss Hartley, is less pale than the norm. It is no matter. We will decide on the fabric, and I will have my seamstresses work up the gown by tomorrow.” With a calm wave of her hand, Fancon summoned her underlings. They brought bolts of fine cloth, in mauves and lilacs. While Georgiana stood, wreathed in fabric, Bella and Fancon studied her critically. Georgiana, too, watched proceedings in the mirror.

“It must show you off to your greatest advantage,” declared Bella.

Georgiana seriously doubted that companions were chosen for the picture they made in the ballroom.

Fancon turned and murmured a command. A minute later, a fresh selection of materials arrived. Sea-green gauze, spangled and shimmering, was draped around Georgiana. The assistant stood back, and Georgiana raised her eyes to the mirror. She gasped. Was the slim, slender mermaid she saw there really herself? The green brought out the lights in her hair and eyes, and emphasised the creaminess of her skin. She stood and stared. Then, slowly, she shook her head sadly.

“Not yet. I’m still in mourning, remember?”

Another murmur from Fancon saw a deep topaz silk replace the sea-green gauze. Again, Georgiana stared. This time she looked almost as worldly as Bella. The silk added an air of allure, of mystery. She looked…enticing. But again she refused.

Apparently resigned to using the purplish hues, Fancon next produced a pale amethyst silk. Georgiana regarded it critically. The colour suited her well enough, making her appear soft and feminine. But the amethyst simply did not do for her what the previous two shades had. In this, she simply looked passably pretty. She turned and looked longingly at the topaz and the sea-green, lying discarded beside her. Still, she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted from her purpose. Doubtless ladies who needed companions would approve of the amethyst silk.

“Yes. I’ll take this fabric. And the pattern we agreed on.”

Georgiana turned in time to catch the look that passed between Bella and Fancon. It was a look that bespoke an understanding, but she got no further clue to assist in its interpretation.

While they waited for the two day dresses to be packed, Georgiana reflected that Madame Fancon had not seemed anywhere near as dragon-like as Bella had led her to believe.

Settled in the barouche, with Fancon’s boxes on the opposite seat, Bella leant forward and spoke to her coachman. “Once around the park for luck. Then back to Green Street.”

The carriage moved off. Georgiana sat quietly, wondering a little at the revelations of the sumptuous sea-green and topaz silks. Could she really appear like that? Her? Little Georgiana?

Bella also sat quietly, smugly satisfied with the outcome of her scheming. She had been to see Fancon the day before, while Arthur had taken Georgiana to see her banker. The modiste knew her well; she was, after all, one of her best customers. Fancon had been most helpful, particularly after she had let fall the information that a certain peer was most desirous that Georgiana should be well presented, and hence money was no option. Dominic could hardly take exception to that. Bella grinned. She had little doubt Fancon would guess who the gentleman was. Who other than her brother would be likely to leave a young girl in her care?

“Bella, there’s been some mistake. We have six boxes instead of two.”

Georgiana’s words reclaimed Bella’s attention. She turned and found Georgiana frowning at the offending extra boxes. “No, no,” said Bella. “It’s all right. I bought some gowns, too. I couldn’t resist after seeing you in them, and we’re much of a size.” All of which, Bella told her conscience, was perfectly true.

Georgiana raised her brows but said no more.

Bella returned to her absent-minded contemplation of the pavements. Undoubtedly she’d have to argue hard and fast to get Georgiana to accept the gowns she had bought. But none of them were in colours she, so much darker of hair and fairer of skin, could wear. The sea-green gauze and topaz silk would look hideous on her. They were to be delivered tomorrow, along with the amethyst silk. Surely Georgie would see what a waste it would be simply to throw them away?

As the barouche turned into the park, Bella sat up straighter. She looked across at Georgiana, sitting quietly beside her. Demure she might look, but Georgiana Hartley had a mind of her own. Stubborn to a fault, she was sure to balk at accepting what she would probably class as charity. Still, Bella was perfectly certain Dominic would have wanted her to spend his money as she had. She was sure he would approve, when he saw Georgiana in the topaz silk. And, after all, Georgiana should be grateful enough to want to please her brother. She made a mental note to remember Dominic, if she had need of further ammunition to force Georgiana to accept the gowns.

“IT’S MY ‘at home’ this afternoon.” Bella came bustling into the downstairs parlour.

Georgiana looked up from the magazine she was idly leafing through. She felt supremely confident this morning, arrayed in one of her new gowns, a soft bluey lilac cambric. Bella’s elegance seemed less daunting now. She caught Bella’s eye as it rested pensively upon her. Georgiana raised one fine brow in invitation.

“About the story we should tell about you. To account for your being here.”

“What about the truth?” asked Georgiana, not quite sure what her friend meant.

“Well, yes. The truth, of course. But…do you think the whole truth’s wise?”

When Georgiana looked her confusion, Bella continued, “You see, if you tell about how you met Dominic, people might get the wrong idea. To support your story, you’d have to explain about Charles. And, my dear, if you’re looking for a position, the last person you would want to claim kinship with is Charles.”

Bella had put a great deal of thought into how best to broach this most delicate of subjects. Now she watched Georgiana carefully to see how the younger girl took her suggestion. Georgiana was frowning, her thoughts clouding her big eyes.

“You mean…?”

“What I mean,” said Bella, candid to a fault, “is that Charles is hardly a gold-plated reference. But there’s really no need to mention him at all. All we have to do is decide how you came to stay with me. I think the most sensible thing to say is that we had met, years ago, at Candlewick, before you went to Italy. We became such friends that we’ve been corresponding ever since. Naturally, when you returned to England and found your uncle dead, you came back to London to stay with me. That should be believable enough, don’t you think?” When Georgiana made no reply, Bella pressed her final argument. “And you wouldn’t want to put Dominic in a difficult position, would you?”

Put Lord Alton in a difficult position? For a minute, Georgiana could make no sense of her friend’s allusion. Then the Fragonard materialised in her mind’s eye…and the image of his lordship as she had last seen him, a vision that had not yet faded from her memory.