A Woman Made for Pleasure by Michele Sinclair

confound it, I have just had a delicious idea!”
    “Oh no . . .” Jennelle’s wariness sprang to life as soon as she saw the look in Millie’s eyes.
    Millie rapped the carriage roof and gave the driver the name and address of the modiste on her card. She then turned back and beamed at her friends. “We are going to have an adventure!”
    Aimee was excited. “Fantastic!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
    Jennelle looked at Aimee as if she had just lost her mind. “Fantastic? Are you encouraging Millie’s lunacy now?”
    Aimee patted her friend’s knee. “Do not fear, Jennelle. This time I am a completely willing participant in Millie’s plan. And so are you. So, Millie, how are we going to save my brother? That is the focus of the adventure this time, is it not?”
    Millie eagerly leaned forward. “It most certainly is. Now we know why we were destined to have a Season this year. We are here to save Charlie from a miserable marriage!”
    Jennelle rolled her eyes. “I agree with the spirit of your plan, Millie, but can we keep the excitement to a minimum?”
    Millie beamed a mischievous grin across the small compartment. “Against my nature, Jen, you know that. It would be as if I asked you never to read a book again.” She turned to the other passenger. “Elda Mae . . . not a word. Promise?”
    “Of course, Lady Mildred,” the older woman replied as she made the sign of the cross on her breast.
    “Not even to Aimee’s mother,” Millie added, knowing the workings of her companion’s mind.
    The carriage stopped, and seconds later the footman knocked on the door. All four stepped down from the carriage and looked around. Millie reviewed the card, and the address was indeed correct. Jennelle leaned over. “Are we supposed to be in the residential side of Town?”
    Millie showed her the card. “I assume so. Mother Wentworth can be quite unconventional if she feels in the mood to do so.”
    Aimee nodded. “I think this is one of those times. My mother does have a sense of humor.”
    Millie went up to a massive red weathered door and knocked. Soon a lanky youth opened it and stuck his head out. “Eh, state your business an’ be quick, I’s got a pile of work waitin’ on me,” boomed a young voice with a strong cockney accent.
    Aimee came forward and smiled at the long-limbed boy. “Hello. We are looking for a Madame Sasha. Does she live here?”
    “She does,” he said and then looked at each of them, clearly assessing their dress. “Hmm, youse obviously gots some blunt. Come in, but be quick. She as cross as crabs today, I tell ya. I gots to get back to the kitchen before the cook gets peltered up and goes into high fidgets. He’s in high dudgeon today and likely to give me snuff just for openin’ the door.” The skinny boy opened the door wider and moved out of their way so they could enter. “Who should I say is callin’? Youse don’t look like the widgeons the cook told me you’d be.”
    Jennelle’s eyes popped open at the slang reference to an unintelligent female.
    Aimee stepped forward and smiled. Its effect was instantaneous. “Thank you so much. Please let Madame Sasha know that we are here for her modiste services.”
    “Take yourselves into the study. I’ll tell the madame ’bout your visit. Take care and don’t touch the china. The missus is quite partic’lar that none o’ her things gets broken. Never would believe the rake-down I gots just by nicking one o’ dem things.” He nodded and left. A few seconds later, they heard him yelling to someone at the back stairs.
    All three looked at one another and then broke into laughter. “I wonder who he thinks we are.”
    “I do not know, but he was not fazed at all by our presence.”
    “Maybe even a little annoyed.” And they all laughed again, made their way to the study to sit down and wait.
    Several minutes passed by before the wooden study doors opened. A short older woman with graying brown hair and a