Free Carola Dunn by The Fortune-Hunters Page A

interest in fashions and fripperies and I know Jess would be glad of a companion.”
    “I should be happy to accompany Miss Franklin,” she said diffidently.
    “Jessica! I have been telling Miss Pearson how you love to shop and are always complaining that Aunt Tibby will not go with you.”
    “Indeed, it is a sad trial to me,” his sister responded, meeting his eye with a quizzical look.
    He gave the girl a gentle nudge.
    “If you do not mind, ma’am, I will go with you one day.”
    “A splendid notion,” Jessica said cordially. “I am in grave need of a bonnet I noticed in Milsom Street. Are you free tomorrow morning?”
    Silently blessing her, Nathan treated everyone to tea in the Holburne of Menstrie pavilion.
    Later, when they met at dinner, he thanked his sister for her cooperation.
    “Just what was going on there?” asked Miss Tibbett suspiciously. “You know I am always perfectly willing to go shopping with you, Jessica.”
    “I know, dear Tibby, but if I am not mistaken, Nathan has more in mind than a simple shopping expedition.”
    “I hoped you might be able to influence Miss Pearson’s taste,” he admitted. “If you insist on befriending her, it will be easier on our eyes if she is more... er, demurely clad.”
    “Precisely my own feeling,” she agreed, looking at him knowingly. “It is a shame to hide her light under a bushel, for she is a pretty child, is she not?”
    He concentrated on carving the roast saddle of mutton. “Is she?” he asked. “I scarcely noticed.”
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    “I never had the making of them gowns, miss,” Madame Guinevere assured Jessica as her assistant led Miss Pearson to a fitting room. “You may be sure of that. It’s my belief them London modistes’ll do anything if you pay ‘em enough. A crying shame, I call it, putting the poor young lady in colours as ‘d embarrass a peacock.” She bustled after them, calling for the lavender dimity.
    Jessica would have liked to take her young friend to her own seamstress, but she suspected that the unknown Mr. Pearson would despise any but the most expensive modiste in Bath. At least Madame’s front shop was comfortable. While she waited, she looked through the latest issue of Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics. The section on fashion was the only one to show signs of wear.
    Not ten minutes later she was called into the fitting room to give her opinion. Miss Pearson was clad in a white muslin walking dress with coquelicot ribbons threaded around the sleeves, hem and bodice, and a coquelicot sash at the high waist.
    “Is it all right, Miss Franklin?” she asked anxiously. “Papa does so like bright colours.”
    “Charming.” Jessica noted the bloom in her cheeks, which had seemed pale in comparison to her garish dress. She really was very pretty. “It suits you to perfection.”
    The girl twisted to look in the mirror.
    “Careful!” advised Madame Guinevere. “Them pins’ll fall out. I can have it ready for you in a half hour, miss.”
    “I’ll take it,” said Miss Pearson decisively.
    “And while we are waiting you can try on a few more,” Jessica suggested. “The lavender dimity would make a splendid carriage dress.”
    An hour later the young ladies were about to emerge from the shop, when Lucy—they were on Christian name terms by then—tugged on Jessica’s arm.
    “Oh, pray wait a moment. There is that horrid Lord Alsop passing by.”
    Jessica was only too pleased to comply. Lucy must stop wearing a king’s ransom in jewels, Jessica thought, then she would not be viewed as fair prey by every fortune hunter in Bath. For once she quite forgot that Nathan was one of their number.
    “Have you any pearls?” she asked. “They would go best with your new primrose ball dress.”
    “No, Papa never cared for pearls.”
    “Perrin’s is next door, but I suppose your pin money will not stretch to such a purchase.”
    “I have enough