Never Less Than A Lady | Herophine

Chapter Twenty Five

Josephine

Josephine was on her third cup of tea and regretfully thought the modiste would arrive soon when the door to the breakfast room opened. A beautiful young woman swept into the room, the skirts of her scarlet riding habit foaming around her.

"Good morning, Rose!" the newcomer said gaily. "It started to rain, so I thought I'd take refuge here and see if you have any of that lovely kedgeree available." She stopped in her tracks. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you had company, Rose."

"You're always welcome, Sophie." Rose hugged the young woman. "Jo, you've met Felix's sister, Lady Sophie, haven't you?"

"Indeed I did. Last spring." Josephine rose with a smile. Like Felix, Lady Sophie was half Hindu, and she had dark hair and startling hazel eyes. Unlike her brother, she was outgoing rather than reserved, and her voice had a hint of a musical accent. "London seems to agree with you, Lady Sophie."

"Mrs Thomas," the younger woman said with pleasure, "will you be staying in London longer this time? I should like to become better acquainted."

"She's Lady Josephine Tiffin now," Tristan said. "She and Felix's friend Major Tiffin married in Scotland and are now in London for the autumn season."

Sophie's eyes rounded. "I do hope all of Felix's handsome friends don't marry before I've had a chance to look around! Well done, Lady Josephine. Hero is a truly splendid specimen. But-Lady Josephine?"

"My father is the Duke of Castleton, but he disowned me." Josephine gestured toward the sideboard. "Don't let me keep you from the kedgeree. Rose said earlier that the Indian branch of the family loved to eat here."

Lady Sophie laughed as she picked up a plate and helped herself. "Neither I nor the kedgeree is entirely Indian, but this is much better than porridge."

Rose poured tea for her sister-in-law. "We shall have to leave shortly when the modiste arrives. I'm holding a ball for Josephine and Hero in a fortnight, so there's no time to waste in ordering a suitable gown. You're invited, of course."

"Splendid!" Sophie seated herself and attacked the kedgeree with enthusiasm. "I have been longing for excitement. May I stay for the fitting with the modiste? I love looking at the fabrics and style books."

Rose looked thoughtful. "Would you mind, Josephine? Sophie has a marvellous eye for colour. She also does custom perfumes, including the scent all the young fortune hunters wanted to copy."

"Would you like it if I blended a custom scent for you, Lady Josephine?" Sophie asked. "As a wedding gift ."

Sophie looked so eager that Josephine said, "I should love that." Which meant she must allow the girl to come to the fitting. Not that Lady Sophie was precisely a girl; she must be in her early twenties. But her happy directness was youthful. When Josephine was in her early twenties, she'd felt aeons older.

The modiste, Madame Hélier, arrived just as Sophie was finishing her second breakfast, and the fitting began in Rose's private parlour. Madame was accompanied by three assistants loaded with fabrics, trims, and fashion books. Two Ashton House footmen were pressed into carrying still more bolts of fabric upstairs.

Elsa appeared, looking intimidated by all the grand ladies. While she found a spot in a corner of the room, Grandmére swept into the parlour, commandeered the most comfortable chair, and began speaking to the modiste in rapid French.

Luckily, it was a large parlour.

Rose produced a sturdy wooden stool for Josephine to stand on so the seamstresses could work more easily. "Care to step onto the sacrificial altar, your ladyship?"