The Fashionable Spy by Emily Hendrickson Page B

have to remind Sam to wait for her, for he wouldn’t have left to save his hide.
    A footman walked at her side, but she actually felt perfectly safe with Sable joining her. She had been coming here for several years now, and had grown quite accustomed to the sounds and smells in the area. She entered the red-brick building, wrinkling her nose a trifle at the heat and odors stemming from the foundry. Her dog stayed close to her side, his watchful eyes noting everyone about.
    “Mr. Greene,” Victoria said, as a rotund man emerged from a small room, “here I am with another head for you to cast.” She went over the details with him, then made an appointment to be present when the patina would be due for application. She always oversaw this important process, although she did not actually apply the acid herself. She usually preferred the end result for her sculpture to be a very dark brown, and wished to make certain that the color turned out precisely right.
    From the foundry, she instructed Sam to take her to Bond Street. Settling back in her seat, she smiled to herself. What a vain creature she was becoming. First the new melon gown for the theater last evening and now a new hat to wear with the jade pelisse she had ordered.
    At Madame Celeste’s, Victoria tried on the pelisse, pronouncing it perfect. Indeed it was, for it didn’t need another thing done to it. Then she walked two doors down and into the prettiest millinery shop in all of London. Here, as she had expected, she found the precise hat for the pelisse, and she admitted to herself that it was ideal for the occasion. It was a neat little hat of straw, lined with jade satin, and had a small jade ostrich feather curled over the brim to one side in a most fetching manner.
    How silly to let the teasing from Julia gnaw at her, but the fact of the matter was, it did. Nothing had happened during that isolation in the little windmill. Nothing at all. She ought to have been relieved, glad that she could hold up her head proudly. Instead, she almost felt like stamping her foot in annoyance. He had ignored her, save for that one sketchy kiss, and that was so brief it hardly counted. Now, while she had not wanted seduction, it irked her that she was so easy to dismiss. Hence the flattering pelisse and the utterly dashing new hat.
    She might find the man detestable, while fascinating in a curious way, yet she perversely decided he was not going to ignore her.
    At the appointed time, she dressed in a citron mull gown trimmed with cream lace, and donned her jade ensemble with a great deal of satisfaction. The reflection in her cheval glass was most reassuring, and when the maid came to let her know her caller had arrived, she went down the stairs well-pleased with herself. Yet, as she tugged on her gloves, she confessed to a tinge of nervousness. To spy on a stranger while in his home was one thing, to snoop—for that is what it might be—on a man she was coming to know and somewhat respect was another.
    Still, she had to admit to an insatiable curiosity about the man. All those many trips. Why were they made? Perhaps she might be able to lure some information from him, for her suspicions ran rampant. Not that she’d been asked to spy. No, her investigation was for herself.
    “Good afternoon. Sir Edward. May I offer you refreshments? Or do you wish to depart directly?” Victoria paused after entering the drawing room. Sir Edward wore a corbeau tailcoat of impeccable cut and fit over pantaloons of palest dove gray. Polished Hessians, a cravat tied in a precise mathematical, and spotless gloves couldn’t help but bring approval. She smiled cautiously at him.
    “We have much to accomplish this afternoon. Although I would enjoy another chat, we had best be on our way.” They strolled down the stairs and out to the street. He negotiated the steps carefully, but well, she observed.
    Victoria climbed up into his barouche, reveling in the lovely padded seats and neat finish