care.
“Now, what will you wear?” Miss Higbee asked Mrs. Delcour.
“A dress I ordered a few weeks ago is almost finished,” she answered.
“Please remember veils are no longer in style.”
Both women broke into peals of laughter. Miss Higbee composed herself and explained to a perplexed Benjamin.
“One day when it was quite frigid I ran into Catherine at the drapers on Hanover Square. I was with Mrs. Wetmore, who unfortunately hadn’t fallen under Mrs. Delcour’s spell as I had.”
“That’s being awfully kind of you,” said Mrs. Delcour. “The woman always looks as if something smells terrible when she sees me.”
“Mrs. Delcour politely remarked on the cold weather when we saw her,” continued Miss Higbee, “and Mrs. Wetmore reprimanded her for not wearing a veil. Quite sternly, I might add. So Mrs. Delcour told her that in Paris, where she’d just come from, veils were passé.”
“A complete fabrication on my part,” added Mrs. Delcour.
“The next time I was in the drapers,” said Miss Higbee, “the owner was having a complete fit because he’d received dozens of beautiful linen veils in his last shipment, but no one would purchase them. Apparently Mrs. Wetmore told all her friends veils were no longer fashionable in the great cities of Europe. With a single offhand remark, Mrs. Delcour was able to influence European trade.”
Benjamin smiled. Having always been an outsider, he imagined Mrs. Delcour felt the same way here in New York. If what Delcour had said at dinner the night before was true, and she’d truly risen from being a maid to living in such grandeur, there was more to the woman than he’d imagined.
“Now if you’ll please excuse me.” Miss Higbee rose from the sofa, “I must get back.”
Benjamin bowed slightly. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She nodded in return. “And yours. I do look forward to seeing you at the ball, Mr. Thomas. I hope you’ll save me one dance.”
“I’m sure you’ll have many other offers,” he said. “It won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
Benjamin wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You don’t dance, do you?” Miss Higbee frowned and continued on before Benjamin could answer. “That won’t do at all. Catherine, by tomorrow I’d like you to have taught Mr. Thomas the waltz. It’s quite the rage, and it’s simple.”
Dancing lessons with Delcour’s wife? It was absurd. But the image of her naked breasts in the afternoon light returned to him, and he wondered what it would be like to be close to her. Delcour’s words came back to him, warning him about her proclivities. Benjamin, under no circumstances, could allow her to bewitch him, as she’d done with Percy Bonneville and others before.
“That won’t be necessary, I assure you,” he said, “as there will be no need for me to dance at the ball. I will be there as a chaperone. Now please excuse me.”
Benjamin turned and left the room. From now on, he swore, he’d be much, much more careful.
6
“Ah, Mrs. Delcour, how delightful to see you again.”
The dressmaker almost fell over reaching for Mrs. Delcour’s hand. Benjamin watched as he fussed over her, leading her further into the shop.
“I must introduce you to a close relation of my husband’s,” she said. “Mr. Benjamin Thomas is visiting here on business, and he’s been so kind as to accompany me on my errands this morning.”
Benjamin nodded curtly to the dressmaker. In fact, he’d caught Mrs. Delcour sneaking out of the townhouse once already this morning. He’d been standing at his bedroom window, enjoying the first sip of coffee one of the servants had brought up, and spied her dashing down the front steps. He’d opened the window and called for her to return, and surprisingly, she did so. In the foyer, she gave him an insouciant look and said she was heading to the dressmaker’s shop.
“I will have to accompany you there,” he had said. No amount of money
“Now, what will you wear?” Miss Higbee asked Mrs. Delcour.
“A dress I ordered a few weeks ago is almost finished,” she answered.
“Please remember veils are no longer in style.”
Both women broke into peals of laughter. Miss Higbee composed herself and explained to a perplexed Benjamin.
“One day when it was quite frigid I ran into Catherine at the drapers on Hanover Square. I was with Mrs. Wetmore, who unfortunately hadn’t fallen under Mrs. Delcour’s spell as I had.”
“That’s being awfully kind of you,” said Mrs. Delcour. “The woman always looks as if something smells terrible when she sees me.”
“Mrs. Delcour politely remarked on the cold weather when we saw her,” continued Miss Higbee, “and Mrs. Wetmore reprimanded her for not wearing a veil. Quite sternly, I might add. So Mrs. Delcour told her that in Paris, where she’d just come from, veils were passé.”
“A complete fabrication on my part,” added Mrs. Delcour.
“The next time I was in the drapers,” said Miss Higbee, “the owner was having a complete fit because he’d received dozens of beautiful linen veils in his last shipment, but no one would purchase them. Apparently Mrs. Wetmore told all her friends veils were no longer fashionable in the great cities of Europe. With a single offhand remark, Mrs. Delcour was able to influence European trade.”
Benjamin smiled. Having always been an outsider, he imagined Mrs. Delcour felt the same way here in New York. If what Delcour had said at dinner the night before was true, and she’d truly risen from being a maid to living in such grandeur, there was more to the woman than he’d imagined.
“Now if you’ll please excuse me.” Miss Higbee rose from the sofa, “I must get back.”
Benjamin bowed slightly. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She nodded in return. “And yours. I do look forward to seeing you at the ball, Mr. Thomas. I hope you’ll save me one dance.”
“I’m sure you’ll have many other offers,” he said. “It won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
Benjamin wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You don’t dance, do you?” Miss Higbee frowned and continued on before Benjamin could answer. “That won’t do at all. Catherine, by tomorrow I’d like you to have taught Mr. Thomas the waltz. It’s quite the rage, and it’s simple.”
Dancing lessons with Delcour’s wife? It was absurd. But the image of her naked breasts in the afternoon light returned to him, and he wondered what it would be like to be close to her. Delcour’s words came back to him, warning him about her proclivities. Benjamin, under no circumstances, could allow her to bewitch him, as she’d done with Percy Bonneville and others before.
“That won’t be necessary, I assure you,” he said, “as there will be no need for me to dance at the ball. I will be there as a chaperone. Now please excuse me.”
Benjamin turned and left the room. From now on, he swore, he’d be much, much more careful.
6
“Ah, Mrs. Delcour, how delightful to see you again.”
The dressmaker almost fell over reaching for Mrs. Delcour’s hand. Benjamin watched as he fussed over her, leading her further into the shop.
“I must introduce you to a close relation of my husband’s,” she said. “Mr. Benjamin Thomas is visiting here on business, and he’s been so kind as to accompany me on my errands this morning.”
Benjamin nodded curtly to the dressmaker. In fact, he’d caught Mrs. Delcour sneaking out of the townhouse once already this morning. He’d been standing at his bedroom window, enjoying the first sip of coffee one of the servants had brought up, and spied her dashing down the front steps. He’d opened the window and called for her to return, and surprisingly, she did so. In the foyer, she gave him an insouciant look and said she was heading to the dressmaker’s shop.
“I will have to accompany you there,” he had said. No amount of money
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