A Marriage Of Rogues. Margaret Moore
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After another restless night with little sleep during which her husband did not arrive, Thea wasted no time summoning the carriage to take her to the village of Dundrake. Whether her husband regretted their marriage or had simply tired of her already, she was his wife in every way and she would do whatever was necessary to remain so, beginning with a new wardrobe suitable for a baronet’s wife.
Mrs. Wessex looked a little askance when Thea told her she was going to the village, but being a servant, she could ask no questions. The butler, who seemed more statue than human, helped her into the carriage and told the coachman where she wanted to go. The drive wasn’t unpleasant, and she was curious to see more of the estate and surrounding area, or as much as she could from the road.
It was very pretty country, still wild enough to be ruggedly beautiful, but tame enough to have decent roads and prosperous farms. The village itself, named after the Dundrakes, was charming, with a large church built of weathered gray stone, an ample green and several shops in addition to the Maiden’s Arms and at least one other tavern.
She wasted no time before calling upon the dressmaker, a petite Yorkshirewoman named Mrs. Lemmuel who wore a simple gown of dark blue wool that fit her hourglass shape perfectly. Her light brown hair was neatly parted in the middle and pulled back. More important, although she took in Thea’s cheap and ugly garments in a single glance and probably estimated to the penny what they had cost, she gave Thea a welcoming smile.
“Good day,” she said as Thea studied the display of Mrs. Lemmuel’s work and the bolts of fabric on shelves nearby.
Thea returned her greeting, then voiced the purpose of her visit. “I’ve heard you’re a most excellent dressmaker. I require some new dresses and two ball gowns. Also some undergarments.”
Mrs. Lemmuel’s brown eyebrows rose. No doubt she was wondering how a woman currently dressed in such cheap and flimsy garments could possibly afford so many new and costly items.
“I’m newly married and have been traveling, so my wardrobe is in a very sad state, as you can see,” Thea offered, telling herself that little lie was forgivable. “My husband says I’m to purchase whatever I require. Cost is no consideration.”
Mrs. Lemmuel’s expression softened. “Most generous! Are you to live in the vicinity?”
“I understand my husband’s family has lived here for quite some time.”
Confusion came to the dressmaker’s face.
The servants at Dundrake Hall had somehow learned of her marriage; word would soon spread beyond those confines to the village, so there was little point in prevaricating. “I recently married Sir Develin Dundrake.”
“Sir Develin Dundrake!” Mrs. Lemmuel cried, her voice so shrill it was almost a squeak.
Then suddenly it was as if Thea had announced she was indeed the Queen of Sheba come to shop. The dressmaker’s attitude became if not exactly fawning, certainly much more accommodating. “You must look at this silk,” she insisted, running her hand over a silver-colored bolt. “It will suit you admirably and bring out your eyes.”
From that better beginning Thea spent the next part of the morning choosing a pattern for a ball gown to be made of that silk, as well as fabric and patterns for several day dresses and another ball gown, that one of deep sapphire blue trimmed with wide lace.
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