Page 68 of Last Night with the Duke
A noise disturbed Esmeralda’s slumber. She retreated from it, but it came again.
She moaned contentedly and snuggled deeper into her covers. If she had to get up, she might as well be thinking about last night with the duke and remember his strong embrace, commanding caresses, and devouring kisses that touched deep into her soul.
The annoying sound came again.
Her eyes opened to bright sunshine streaming through the open draperies. Startled, she rose up in bed, brushing her long hair from her eyes. There was a strange woman tying back the drapery panels. Esmeralda didn’t recognize her as one of the servants. And no one had ever come in to wake her anyway.
The robust woman wore an expensive-looking light blue dress and a dark blue hat with an outlandish amount of dyed leaves and feathers on it and colorful ribbons poking out of the crown.
“Excuse me,” Esmeralda said, pulling the sheet up past her shoulders. “I think you are in the wrong room.”
The small, sturdy, black-haired woman turned to face her. Her eyebrows were thick, wide, and very black. She smiled broadly. “Ah, Mademoiselle, you are awake.”
How could I not be with so much light streaming into the room?
“Good, I asked that some tea be brought up for you. We must begin at once. There can be no delay.”
Two more ladies, just as beautifully dressed as the Frenchwoman, walked into her open bedchamber door, their arms laden with stacks of fabrics, pelts of lace, and reams of ribbons.
“What is this?” Esmeralda asked. “And who are you?”
The woman smiled again. “Of course, I am Madame Donceaux. I’m here to dress you for the duke.”
Dress me?
For Griffin!
As if last night with the Duke hadn’t been emotional enough with his kisses and caresses that she’d never forget. There was also the baring of her soul about Josephine’s father, and her arguing and demanding of Griffin that she retain her position in his household. Now, he was making demands of his own. If she had more gowns made, she’d never be able to pay him back.
“The Duke was banging on my door so early this morning. Eager he was that I should come to you at once.” Madame Donceaux motioned for the women to put their wares on the foot of the bed while she continued to talk to Esmeralda. “He told me you must have a new gown ready tonight. That will be difficult, but we can do. We must hurry. No time to waste. Up, up.”
“He should have asked me if I wanted a new gown,” she said more to herself than to the dressmaker.
“Why should a gentleman like the duke have to ask to gift you such beautiful gowns. It is his right, no? It will make you happy.”
No, it didn’t make her happy that he’d decided to take it upon himself to have more gowns made for her.
“Wait a minute, I will not have this.”
“Fine, fine,” the woman said and drew back the covers away from Esmeralda. “Keep talking, but stand so I can get measurements. We have no time.”
Perturbed, and not knowing exactly what to do first, Esmeralda scooted off the bed and stood up, ready to do battle.
“It would be better for you to remove your, your night rail. Better to measure.”
“I am not taking off my shift,” she said indignantly, knowing she didn’t have a stitch on beneath the white long-sleeved sleeping gown.
“Good. I will measure anyway.” The woman immediately lifted Esmeralda’s arms in the air, whipped a strip of white cloth from a sash around her waist, and circled Esmeralda’s waist before she knew what had happened. “Don’t look at me,” she said to Esmeralda, pointing to the end of the bed. “I measure. You look at fabrics. Which you like?”
“But wait. I told you I don’t want to do this. I have gowns. Beautiful, well-made gowns.”
“Oh, I am sure. But they are gray.” She called out a measurement in French to one of the ladies, who marked it on a card with a pencil. “The duke say, no gray. No gray. I tell him I understand, no gray.” She measured around Esmeralda’s breasts and gave the measurement again.
“No, no, Mademoiselle. Do not look what I do,” she said again. “Look at the exceptional fabrics. How luxurious they are. The pale yellow. You like it?”
“It’s lovely, but—”
“Good. I thought so. It will make your eyes so beautiful. The duke will be happy. And the gold trim, right?” She measured from under Esmeralda’s breasts to the top of her foot, and called out more measurements to her helper. “At the waist and perhaps the hem too? No. I think that the hem too much. Right? Cap sleeves, I think. We’ll put it on the sleeve.”
