Regency Rogues and Rakes. Anna Campbell

conquer the world,” he said.

      “Yes,” she said. No one in her family had ever been accused of dreaming small.

      “Let’s bring the beau monde to its knees.”

      “Yes.”

      “Let’s make them beg for your creations.”

      “Yes,” she said. “Yes, yes, yes.”

      “Is tomorrow too soon?” he said.

      “No,” she said. “We’ve a great deal to do, you and I, conquering the world. We must start at once. We’ve not a minute to lose.”

      “I love hearing you say that,” he said.

      He kissed her. It lasted a long time.

      And they would last, she was sure, a lifetime. On that she’d wager anything.

       Epilogue

      The dresses were brilliant in the extreme; and it afforded us much gratification to notice that those worn by her Majesty and the Royal Family, as well as many others, were chiefly composed of British manufacture.

      The Court Journal, Saturday 30 May 1835

      The Duke of Clevedon married Mrs. Charles Noirot at Clevedon House on Saturday the 16th of May. In attendance were her sisters, his aunts, Lord Longford, and Lady Clara Fairfax.

      The two latter appeared in defiance of their parents—but Longford had never been noted for filial obedience, and Lady Clara had lately developed an invigorating habit of defying her mother. She’d worn a Noirot creation to the Queen’s Drawing Room the previous Thursday, which caused a most gratifying stir.

      When her brother had taxed her with aiding and abetting Clevedon’s lunacy, she said, “He’s still my friend, and I scorn to hold a grudge. I certainly shan’t cut off my nose to spite my face. You know that no one has ever or will ever make me look as well as Mrs. Noirot does. Do stop acting like Mama.”

      That last remark brought Longmore around.

      The duke’s aunts presented a more formidable challenge. As soon as they received his message regarding his impending nuptials, they hurried to Town and took possession of Clevedon House, determined to bring him to his senses. On Wednesday afternoon, they’d settled down for a bout of tea drinking and bullying their nephew when Halliday ushered in his grace’s prospective wife and in-laws and, as heavy artillery, Lucie. the aunts might have withstood the Noirot charm alone, but charm combined with mouth-watering dresses weakened their defenses, and Lucie, at her winsome best, routed them utterly.

      On the Monday following the wedding, the youngest aunt, Lady Adelaide Ludley, visited the queen, with whom she shared a given name and was on warm terms. Her ladyship extolled the new duchess’s deportment and taste. On learning that the queen had admired Lady Clara Fairfax’s dress, Lady Adelaide pointed out that Maison Noirot patronized British tradesmen almost exclusively—a cause dear to Their Majesties’ hearts. She mentioned that the Noirot sisters were founders of the Milliners’ Society for the Education of Indigent Females—another point in their favor.

      Lady Adelaide agreed with the queen that the Duchess of Clevedon, in intending to keep up her shop, presented the Court with a social dilemma. On the other hand, said her ladyship, the duchess acted on good moral principle in being unwilling to abandon either her customers or the young women she was training as seamstresses. In any event, as the duke had pointed out to his aunts, one could not expect an artist to give up her art.

      In the end, Lady Adelaide received permission to present the new duchess to the queen. She did so at the Drawing Room held in honor of the King’s Birthday, commemorated on the 28th of May. At one point during the festivities, the king summoned Clevedon, and spoke to him privately. His Majesty was heard to laugh.

      When Clevedon returned to his wife’s side, she said, “What was that about?”

      “The Princess Erroll of Albania,” Clevedon said. “He asked after her.” His smile was conspiratorial. “I think we’ve done it. They’ve decided I’m eccentric and you’re irresistible.”

      “Or the other way about,” she said.

      “Does it matter?” he said.

      “No,” she said. She bent her head, and the sound was soft, but he recognized it. “Duchess,” he said, “are you giggling?”

      She looked up, laughter dancing in her dark eyes. “I was only thinking: This has to be the greatest trick any Noirot or DeLucey has ever brought off.”

      “And to think,” he said, “this is only the beginning.”

      Not many days thereafter, in the course of a promenade in St. James’s Park, Miss Lucie Cordelia Noirot allowed the Princess Victoria to admire Susannah. The doll, as would be expected, was dressed for the occasion, in a lilac pelisse and a bonnet of paille de riz, trimmed with white ribbons and two white feathers.

Scandal Wears Satin

       She did a great deal he found intriguing—starting with the way she walked. She carried herself like a lady, like the women of his class, yet the sway of her hips promised something tantalisingly unladylike.

      ‘I married Marcelline knowing she’d never give up her work,’ Clevedon was saying. ‘If she did, she’d be like everyone else. She wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with.’

      ‘Love,’ Longmore said. ‘Bad idea.’

      Clevedon smiled. ‘One day Love will come along and knock you on your arse,’ he said. ‘And I’ll laugh myself sick, watching.’

      ‘Love will have its work cut out for it,’ Longmore said. ‘I’m not like you. I’m not sensitive. If Love wants to take hold of me, not only will it have to knock me on my arse, it’ll have to tie me down and beat to a pulp what some optimistically call my brains.’

      ‘Very possibly,’ Clevedon said. ‘Which will make it all the more amusing.’

      LORETTA CHASE has worked in academe, retail and the visual arts, as well as on the streets—as a meter maid (aka traffic warden)—and in video, as a scriptwriter. She might have developed an excitingly chequered career had her spouse not nagged her into writing fiction. Her bestselling historical romances, set in the Regency and Romantic eras of the early nineteenth century, have won a number of awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s RITA^®.

      Website: www.LorettaChase.com.

       ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      This book was made possible by the support of: my insightful and inspiring editor, May Chen; my indefatigable agent, Nancy Yost; my witty and fashion-wise friend and blogging partner, Isabella Bradford, aka Susan Holloway Scott; my patient French adviser, Valerie Kerxhalli; my loyal, funny and crazy sisters, Cynthia, Vivian and Kathy; and, most especially, my brainy and brave husband, Walter, a hero every single day.

       Prologue