Page 29 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Mme Auclair’s brown eyes flickered up to Farah’s, questioning.

Casual, calm, and collected, Farah reminded herself, despite feeling as though she might burst with energy at any moment.

“I heard tell of a beautiful gown you made recently,” she said, keeping her attention on her reflection. “I believe it was commissioned to be worn to one of Mrs. Ramsbury’s events.”

It was a broad question, Farah knew, but it was all they had. It would be just her luck if Mme Auclair had made dozens of gowns for the upcoming functions.

“I know the gown you speak of.” Mme Auclair disappeared behind Farah to take note of the width of her shoulders. Grumbling beneath her breath, she added, “Lord knows it is the only dress I’ve been asked to make in weeks.”

Farah offered her a sympathetic frown. “Has business been slow?”

“A consequence of old age,” was Mme Auclair’s bitter reply. “Many people begin to think you out of touch with fashion.”

Farah tut-tutted. “How silly.”

Mme Auclair gave Farah’s arm a fond pat. “Indeed. What of the dress?”

“I only wonder what it looks like,” Farah said, making a brisk return to the task at hand. “And who ordered it.”

A somewhat tense silence fell as Mme Auclair turned to fetch swatches of pink and blue fabric. Farah hoped that she hadn’t overstepped—or that the question hadn’t come off as strange.

“I tend not to share personal information,” Mme Auclair informed her, though not unkindly. She held a swatch of pink silk up to Farah’s face before shaking her head and replacing it with another. “I’ve had many a clever woman use such knowledge to show up an enemy or two.”

Farah raised her eyebrows. “Have you, really?”

“I have,” Mme Auclair said. “You would be surprised at the lengths some people go to in order to outshine the rest of the crowd.”

“Shocking,” Farah murmured, hoping her mild exclamation would help keep the conversation flowing.

“But,” Mme Auclair continued, switching out the pink swatch for a blue one, “to sate your curiosity, I will tell you that the dress was made of a beautiful midnight blue velvet.”

Farah brightened. “Indeed?”

Mme Auclair set a handful of swatches aside. “It is not a fabric or shade I would use on you, of course.”

“I would not interfere with your expert opinion,” Farah said, aware she was one kind word from overdoing it. “Which event was the blue velvet intended for?”

At this, Mme Auclair shrugged, helping Farah off the platform. “I cannot say. I only know it was to be worn at Mrs. Ramsbury’s house. The lady in question was not talkative.” Before Farah could pry further, Mme Auclair stepped back with a flourish. “You shall have an evening gown in pink silk! With blue roses along the neckline.”

“Blue roses!” Farah repeated with glee. Pausing, she asked, “Were you asked to embroider the blue velvet with flowers?”

Mme Auclair shook her head. “Non. I do not know if the lady intended on wearing it to the Flower Ball, though she certainly could if she decided to complement it with a few well-chosen accessories.”

Farah stifled a sigh. That meant she and Grey would have to go to all three of Mrs. Ramsbury’s affairs, unless they managed to track down the owner of the invitation at the Flower Ball. “Thank you, madame. You’ve been most helpful.”

“I do try,” Mme Auclair said. “You may return on Thursday—I guarantee a perfect fit.”

Upon her return to the carriage, Farah sank into the green upholstery in a puff of coral fabric. Grey gave her an expectant look, clearly awaiting an update.

“Well, I have good news, and I have bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

Predictably, Grey said, “Let’s have the bad news.”

“I was unable to get very many details,” Farah divulged. “The dress is made of dark blue velvet, but I don’t know who ordered it.”

Grey sighed. “Where do they intend to wear it?”

“I don’t know that, either,” Farah told him. “Unless we get very lucky on Friday, we shall have to attend the musicale and masked ball, too.”