Jade Lee - Wedded in Scandal

“Of course you could,” Helaine said firmly. “There is a strength that appears when one most needs it.”

Irene’s gaze shifted to Helaine. “Do you think so?”

“Of course I do.” It was a ridiculous discussion since there hadn’t been a babe. Still, Irene seemed to take comfort in it. Sadly, it put paid to any hope that Helaine had of success in her mission. She could not ask a grieving woman to set everything aside and…well, and become even lower than a woman who had married a cit for love.

So she sat there with her once best friend and looked at the nannies and their charges. They stayed there for nearly a half hour when Irene abruptly shook herself out of her reverie.

“Come now, out with it. What did you want to ask me?”

Helaine started guiltily. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t try to hide, Helaine. You forget that I watched you hide that shrew Claudia’s socks. You didn’t come visit me on a whim. You have something to ask.”

Helaine lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “I came to make an offer to a desperate woman trapped in an unhappy home. I was wrong to assume such a thing, and I deeply apologize.”

“But you weren’t entirely wrong. I am unhappy. Just not for the reasons you assumed.”

“Either way—”

“Either way, you shall ask me what you came to ask. And then we shall see what is to be made of it.”

Helaine nodded. In truth, she had no other choice if she wanted to avoid the poorhouse. And yet it was so desperately hard to confess. How did one explain her choices to a woman who had fallen in love and married into wealth?

“Come, come, Helaine. It can’t be so hard. I already know about your father’s sins.”

“But not my own.”

Irene merely raised her eyebrows in query. In the end, Helaine gave in.

“Do you know what I became after my father died?”

Helaine took a deep breath. Might as well confess it all at once.

“I’m a shopkeeper, Irene. I own a dress shop, or at least half of it. Or almost half. Never mind, the particulars don’t matter. The point is that I design clothing, Irene. And my partner sews them. I am a tradeswoman and…” She looked up into her friend’s eyes, trying to express the amazement she felt at her next words. “And I absolutely love it.”

Irene’s mouth dropped open, the shock obvious. “I just assumed you had married or something.”

Helaine laughed, though the sound was strained. “Well, that is the usual course of things, isn’t it? And I had offers, too, but not for marriage.” She saw understanding flash through Irene’s eyes.

“Yes, I know the type of man who comes calling when a titled girl is in trouble.”

Helaine dared touch her friend’s hand. “But you found love. For a time at least.”

Irene’s expression grew wistful. “Yes, for a marvelous time.” Then she straightened to frown back at Helaine. “But we are speaking of you. Do you really own a dressmaker’s shop?”

“Yes. It’s called A Lady’s Favor and it’s not too far off Bond Street. I go by Mrs. Mortimer there.”

“Really?” Irene tilted her head. “I cannot imagine you as a Mortimer.”

Helaine smiled. “My mother was fond of bemoaning how mortified she was at what I was doing. Mortified, mortified, mortified! I took the name Mortimer to tweak her.”

“And did it?”

“Definitely. But now I am stuck with it.”

“Ah.” There was something in the way she said the word that caused Helaine some concern. And then Irene’s hands began to knot in the folds of her skirt. “You have come to ask me to frequent your shop, haven’t you? I would, of course. Your ideas were always quite innovative even back at school—”

“Oh, no! Not those silly—”

“But you see, my mother-in-law insists on the most fashionable modiste. Silly woman, actually—the modiste, not my mother-in-law, though I suppose her, too, in some ways. In any event, she would be most upset if I transferred—”

“I’m not asking for your patronage, Irene!” Helaine’s voice came out louder than she intended. The idea that she would come begging her old friends for their business was beyond humiliating. “We have clients aplenty!” she lied. And damn it, her friend knew she was lying. She always had.

“Do you, Helaine? Truly?”

Helaine sighed. “Yes, we do. For the moment. But not for long unless…” Her voice trailed away, and once again she saw how useless this whole errand was. Irene had no reason to agree, and every reason to send Helaine packing. But she could not stop now. “As I said before, I thought you were desperately unhappy. I thought you would grasp at any chance to escape.” She lifted up her hands in a gesture of futility. “I came, Irene, to offer you a job.”

“What?” her friend gasped.

“We cannot get the right supplies,” Helaine explained. “But your father-in-law is in shipping. He has cargo from all over the world. And I remember how good at spotting bargains you are. You found the most amazing things for no money at all!”

“It was a necessity in my household.”

“Yes,” Helaine drawled. “Mine, too, but you excelled at it.”

“Hardly a skill I’m proud of.”

“But you should be!” said Helaine. “You cannot know how desperate I am for someone to shop for us. To find bargains in silks and lace, to locate just the right baubles or ribbons. I can look at a woman and see just the right clothing for her. Wendy can sew anything I dream up and more. But neither of us can find the cloth or the baubles. Certainly not cheaply. Not like you could.”

“So you want me to shop for you?”

Helaine turned to her friend, using all her persuasive skill. “You are grieving a husband. You have all the material wealth a woman could want. And yes, we were once the best of friends, but that was a long time ago. But nonetheless, that is what I am asking you to consider: be my purchaser. You cannot imagine how liberating it is to earn your own money. I know it is crass to say it, but the first time we were paid, I danced in the workroom. I bought a bottle of wine and we celebrated away all our profits. And yet, I do not regret it for one second.”

Irene smiled. “I cannot imagine you dancing in a workroom.”

“I have done it,” said Helaine with a touch of pride. “I have done so much that I never imagined possible.” She leaned forward, her voice taking on the joy of what she had done. “I support myself and my mother now. Working has given me such power, you have no idea.”

Irene did not appear to be listening. Her gaze was on the water, and the longer she stayed silent, the more Helaine’s heart sank.

“Perhaps,” Helaine finally ventured, “you know of someone else, someone in more straitened circumstances? A widow who can argue with equal aplomb with a merchant or a ship’s captain. Who is familiar with the shipping—”

“A woman who needs a reason to get up every morning,” interrupted Irene. “A woman without children and without hope.”

“Yes, I offer hope,” Helaine pressed. “I have hope aplenty for all of us. Indeed, some days I think it is all I have.”

Irene nodded, and Helaine knew from experience that her friend was thinking hard. Within a moment, Irene would have the answer. When they were children, she would produce the mathematical result or the location of the cheapest candy maker. Now, Helaine could only pray that she had a name. A woman who would save their little shop and Helaine’s personal slice of heaven.

“Very well,” Irene said as she abruptly pushed to her feet.

Helaine scrambled to keep up. “You know of someone?”

“Hmm? Why, certainly I do. Me! And I also know of a shipment of Brussels lace, though it won’t come in for some weeks yet.”

“Really? But that would be excellent!” She knew of at least three ladies who would jump at the chance to get a dress with the right type of lace on it.

Irene grinned. “And I know just how to get at least three bolts of it for a song.”

“Three bolts! But how? And who—?”

Irene abruptly engulfed Helaine in a fierce hug all the more startling because of how very thin and frail the woman looked. “You leave that to me,” she said when she finally released her.

“But—”

“Now listen, my dear. I shall get you the lace, and you shall pay me twenty percent more than I pay.”

“We do not have much ready cash—”

“Never you mind that. You tell me what you want and how much you can pay. I shall find you what you need and make myself a tidy profit to boot.”

Helaine felt her mind reel in shock. Her friend had certainly embraced the mercenary spirit quickly enough. “My goodness—”

“Do you think I learned nothing from sitting at the table every evening with my father-in-law? He speaks business all the time! I could not help but learn something. And now, finally, I have the chance to put to practice what I have learned.”

“But—”

“Never fear, my dear. And thank you!”

Helaine laughed. “For what? I should be thanking you.”

“Nonsense! You have given me something I have not found in over a year.”

“I cannot imagine what,” she said as they turned to leave the park.

“A reason to get out of bed every morning, Helaine. You cannot know how much I have wished for that. And now,” she said as she released a giggle like a schoolgirl, “I shall endeavor to make us both rich, rich, rich!”

Helaine giggled, too, though not with as much unrestrained enthusiasm. She had succeeded in her task. Against all odds, Irene was to be their purchaser. God willing, she would be good at it.

But now she had to move on to her next, much more difficult task. After all, Irene had to have a shop to supply. It would do no good to have Brussels lace for a shop that no longer existed. A Lady’s Favor needed to survive long enough for the lace to arrive, for the orders to be made and sewn, and then for the bills to be paid.