Masquerading the Marquess by Anne Mallory Page A

the recent companion of Lady Simpson and ready to take the ton by storm she would instantly lend a hand. Notoriety is good for business."
     
    He assisted her from the curricle and handed the reins to his tiger. They entered the hallowed dressmaker’s shop.
     
    Whatever Calliope had expected, this was not it. The shop looked like a storm had been unleashed inside. Bolts of cloth, sketches and measuring implements were strewn about, and several half-finished dresses lay discarded on the floor near a back room. Three harried girls scurried around trying to tidy the endless mess.
     
    "Ah, Monsieur Chalmers, so nice to see you."
     
    Stephen took the hand of a tall, severely dressed woman with upswept hair. "Madame Giselle, your beauty is a light in these dark times."
     
    "Bah, I am not one of those half-wit females you like to chase. Hurry and tell me what you want. The Duchess of Kent was here today, and she thinks she runs the country already. It was a trying enough day ministering to her whims with-
    out you and your empty flattery."
     
    Calliope noticed Madame Giselle smoothed her hair and skirt during her caustic reply.
     
    "Madame, I have brought you one of the half-wits." Stephen winked at Calliope. "I wonder if you might have one or two suitable outfits."
     
    Ah, so it was his charm that would win the day. For a moment she had entertained the notion that he had some secret hanging over the seamstress’s head. Stephen did some sort of intelligence work for the government, although she hadn’t been able to piece together exactly what that entailed.
     
    Madame Giselle’s attention shifted to Calliope. She stared at her for a long moment and then circled her, making Calliope feel rather like a rack of beef being inspected. She filed the visual for future use. One caricature idea already. Maybe this trip would pay for itself.
     
    "Yes, I do believe I might have a gown or two for her."
     
    Madame Giselle stared intently. Calliope was sure something had gone unsaid, but she had no idea what it was.
     
    The shop door opened. Madame Giselle’s eyes moved past Calliope and lit up. Her hand rose to smooth her hair again, repeating the movement twice this time. Calliope turned to see who had caused the reaction.
     
    Angelford stood in the door looking directly at her, a rakish top hat perched on his head. He maintained eye contact as he removed it.
     
    "Lord Angelford, please come in."
     
    Calliope managed to keep her mouth from gaping at the sweetness in Madame Giselle’s voice.
     
    This was the woman half of London feared and the other half groveled at any chance to curry her favor?
     
    "Giselle, I couldn’t stay away. You have the best pastries in all of England ."
     
    The woman blushed. She actually blushed. The amused irritation caused by Stephen’s flattery escalated into a simmer over Angelford’s.
     
    "Two of my favorite men. Give me Roth and I’d have the trio complete. Come with me."
     
    She hustled them to the back room and issued sharp commands to the girls to serve tea and cakes.
     
    "I must do a fitting, but please enjoy the refreshments in the interim. What do you require, my lord?"
     
    "A lemon day dress, hold the ornamentals."
     
    Madame Giselle nodded briskly. "It will be delivered tomorrow."
     
    Angelford nodded and helped the gawking assistant with the tea tray before her excited hands could pour it all over him.
     
    Calliope grimaced. Angelford ordering dresses for his mistress was obviously a common occurrence. Madame Giselle hadn’t needed a dress size or even a particularly good description of the gown.
     
    " Corinne , come with me. We shall fit Esmerelda."
     
    Calliope blinked. How had the woman known her name?
     
    Stephen waved in dismissal and grabbed a cake. Angelford lifted a cup of tea and watched her.
     
    Giselle ushered her into the fitting area, where Corinne helped Calliope out of her gown. Stripped to her shift, Calliope stood waiting.
     
    Madame Giselle