Chapter Three
“The dresses are all steamed and hanging in your wardrobe.” Louise re-entered the sitting room and began to put her sewing supplies away.
“Louise, I can’t believe I’m saying this” Madame Pembroke straightened her back and took a deep breath before continuing, “but I’ve decided to accept my family’s invitation.”
Louise swung around and observed the sparkle of excitement in the woman’s eyes.
“Oh, Madame. That is wonderful. You will be so glad you decided to go.”
“Yes, I know I will, but there is more. The collection I’ve promised to finish is for Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Based on the fine work you did on the claret gown, she’s asked that you complete the work. She also wants some of her older gowns updated.” She continued, her eyes moving between Mrs. Dove-Lyon and Louise. “I told her you were the person for that assignment. She would like to start this week. Since the shop will be closed, she suggested you work on her gowns here.”
“I’ll understand if you prefer to go on holiday yourself.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon interjected and her neutral expression gave Louise pause. She couldn’t tell if the woman wanted her to work on the gowns or not.
“I would pay you for your work. I’m aware of the enormity of what I’m proposing, and I am fully prepared to compensate you. Since this is a very unusual circumstance, would you consider double your current wages while you’re with me?
“That… that is very generous.” Louise glanced at Madame, who gave her a reassuring nod. Louise returned her attention to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I do not see there is any way I can refuse.”
“Then it’s all settled,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon said with a knowing smile. “Sybil will visit her family, and you, Louise, will take care of my gowns.” Her smile was as unreadable as a diary, concealing her every thought locked behind her coy facade.
Four days later
Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s privatesalon was bathed in soft sunlight that streamed through lace curtains. A framed small pen and ink drawing of the gentleman’s entrance with a heavy lion-head knocker sat on a table. The initials LMH were visible on the lower right corner.
While Mrs. Dove-Lyon read her correspondence, Louise sat on a comfortable chair, sipping tea from a fine porcelain cup, and let her mind wander.
She glanced out the window that faced Cleveland Row, hoping to catch sight of the man who had collided with her the first day she was here. It became a whimsical routine. There were at least two times she believed she had identified him among several gentlemen, but after two days, she reluctantly accepted that it was likely a chance encounter with no foreseeable connection. Yet, when she closed her eyes at night, it was his smooth face and piercing blue eyes that lingered in her thoughts.
She took another sip of tea and came back to reality. Or was it? The past four days had been an eye-opening experience. Prior to her visit, she held the common belief that the Lyon’s Den was a high stakes gambling hell, notorious for its outrageous wagers where clandestine liaisons, whether of a business or personal nature, transpired in its shadowy corners. However, the establishment had proven to be much more than that. It served as a sanctuary where the conventional social boundaries and rules were relaxed, allowing for acceptance and camaraderie to flow among the most unexpected group of people as freely as the spirits in the glasses of whiskey that they drank.
To Louise, the Lyon’s Den offered more than just an elite establishment that toyed with the forbidden. This was a place where personal growth and self-discovery could flourish, where the thrill of breaking free from the constraints of normal convention, where people weren’t judged by their title or holdings but rather by their intellect and character.
It beckoned her.
Finally, Mrs. Dove-Lyon put down her correspondence. Louise placed her cup on the table, set aside her thoughts, and gave her full attention to her benefactor.
“You’ve been such a help to me these past few days. Your skills as a seamstress are truly remarkable, and your company is thoroughly enjoyable. I’ve also enjoyed our outings.”
“Thank you. I, too, have enjoyed myself.” Louise took a deep breath. She hadn’t finished all the alterations Mrs. Dove-Lyon requested. Was she being dismissed?
“I’ve taken on a project, and I could use your help. I’d like to discuss it with you… It’s rather unusual.”
“Unusual, Mrs. Dove-Lyon?” Caught off guard, she didn’t know what to think.
“I’ve been commissioned to judge a contest, one that aims to challenge the norms of our society.”
“A social challenge?” Louise’s curiosity was piqued. “What do you mean?”
“It involves bringing together individuals from different social backgrounds to determine if genuine connections can be made.”
With a tilt of her head, Louise scrutinized the woman. She was unsure what Mrs. Dove-Lyon was asking her to do. She picked up the teacup but paused before she took a sip.
“Louise, I believe you possess a unique ability, a natural insight, to see beyond the surface. I’d like to introduce you to the person conducting the challenge and let him explain it to you. Suffice it to say that it has to do with breaking down society’s barriers.”
“And you think that I am able to do this task?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m honored.” Louise returned her teacup to the saucer without taking a sip. She took a breath and focused on Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Her heart beat a quick tattoo. To be free of… no. It was impossible. “Truly, I am. But I think you have the wrong person.”
“I think you are, and I can prove it.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon took a framed watercolor from the table. “This painting isn’t just a picture of Green Park. Look at these two walking down the path. What is their story?”
Louise took it from her hands and looked at Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I suspect they are a married couple out for a walk in Green Park. The set of her shoulders and swagger in his walk tells me they have argued, and she did not come out the victor. But she knows she was right.” Louise returned the artwork with LMH carefully drawn in the lower right corner of the table. “That does not prove your point. I painted that and know what is behind it.”
“I can choose any object in this room, and I know you will find more than what is obvious.”
There was nothing that was going to change Louise’s mind. However, this little test could work both ways. It could prove she was not the right person for Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s challenge. As she intently studied Mrs. Dove-Lyon, a sudden realization dawned on her. Had the woman been orchestrating this scheme all along? Was that why she paid her double her usual wages?
Mrs. Dove-Lyon glanced around the room. Finding what she needed, she turned back to Louise. “The vase of flowers on the table. Tell me what you see.”
Louise blinked at the request and let out a deep breath. She had noticed the flowers the first time she entered this room and that they were changed daily. Now, she glanced at the graceful cut-crystal vase. “Those flowers are freshly picked and meticulously arranged.”
“And?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon prompted. “Anything else?”
“The choice of blooms, the colors, and the arrangement all reflect someone’s preferences and emotions.”
“Go on, Louise.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded as she coaxed her.
“The combination of white roses, which symbolize purity and innocence, with deep red tulips, representing true love, suggests that the person who arranged these flowers may value honesty and deep, meaningful connections. The careful arrangement shows an eye for detail and a desire to be surrounded by beauty.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s smile warmed as an invisible barrier dissolved between them.
“You have a remarkable gift. Aside from your artistic talent. Your ability to find the nuances and hidden meanings is exactly what I’m looking for. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what it would be like if the ridiculous rules of the ton”—Mrs. Dove-Lyon dismissed the rules with a wave of her hand—“were done away with? It would be liberating, everyone on an equal footing. I’d like you to be part of this project and before you ask, I did mention it to Madame Pembroke.”
Curious? She glanced at Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Had the woman heard her thoughts moments ago? In truth, she was more than curious.
“There is one more item. There are individuals that are making wagers on the success or failure of the challenge. Do you have an issue with that?”
The proposal she presented, challenging society’s restrictions, was very tempting. Actually, it was exhilarating, if not a bit rebellious. Louise would be the first to admit that she wasn’t a defiant person. She lived by the rules, sometimes more grudgingly than others, but this challenge intrigued her, and the mention of wagers being made added an unexpected thrill. Others were interested in the outcome.
At this moment, Louise’s desire to be free of senseless rules with a chance to rewrite her own story interested her. This challenge wasn’t just a venture into the unknown but a daring journey to reshape her destiny and test everything that bound her. She looked up at Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
“I will do my best to assist you in your project.”
“I have no doubt that you will. You will also be able to make connections with a diverse group of people and not be bothered with rules that have little rhyme or reason.”
“I will?”
“Yes. You are the key to this project’s success.”
“I appreciate your kind words.”
“Louise, we’ll start this evening.”
“This evening? But…” Louise sprang out of her seat, nearly tipping over the small table that held her teacup.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon rose, went to the bell pull next to the hearth, and gave it a tug. Mr. Boyet appeared almost instantly.
“Take Miss Hartfield to Helena and have her choose a gown for this evening.” She turned to Louise.
“Yes, this evening. To quote Geoffrey Chaucer in The Tale of Melibeus, we will ‘strike while the iron is hot.’ Tonight is the perfect time to begin an adventure. Don’t you agree?”