Chapter 3
“Mignonette!”
“Oui, Madame?”
“Monsieur O’Malley is here to speak with you.”
“I do not know a Monsieur O’Malley.”
“He has come on behalf of Earl Lippincott.”
Mignonette knew from the tone of her employer’s voice that Madame was displeased with her reply. She did not look up from the froth of lace she was attaching to the neckline of a customer’s gown. She asked, “A moment, s’il vous plait? I must tie off this stitch.”
“Oui, ma petite. One cannot rush when dealing with delicate silk and lace.”
Mignonette raised her head to see a broad chest clothed in black—the frockcoat and waistcoat were of the finest wool. Tilting her head further, her eyes beheld shoulders so broad she wondered if the well-made coat had a bit of buckram padding in it. Keeping that question to herself, she realized she’d have to stand if she wanted to see higher than the man’s collarbone.
She rose to her full height just over five feet tall and was struck by the rugged beauty of the fair-haired giant with eyes a fascinating shade of cool moss green. His shoulders were impossibly wide…his smile charming. Shock held her rooted to the floor at the realization the man had simply stolen her breath.
“Monsieur O’Malley, may I introduce my right and my left hands, Mademoiselle Yvette Augustin, and Mademoiselle Mignonette de Chauret.”
Addressing her seamstresses, she advised, “Monsieur O’Malley has questions for you, Mignonette, about the other night.”
Her hands started to tremble as the unwanted memory returned. She clasped them at her waist and inclined her head, acquiescing. “Of course, Madame.”
Her employer must have noted her unease. “You have nothing to fear. Yvette and I shall be right here.” With a glance at the huge Irishman, Madame motioned for him to sit.
He smiled. “After yerselves, ladies.”
Mignonette waited for him to begin his questions. She was no stranger to being interrogated and had suffered through more than one at the hands of those who had falsely accused her family of being involved with the notorious smuggler, Ruan. They had not believed her. Setting thoughts of her past aside, she clasped her hands in her lap, willing their trembling to stop.
“Ye have no need to fear me, Lass. I mean ye no harm.”
She held his gaze as the truth of his words washed over her. “Merci.”
“I understand ye were here when intruders broke into the shop. Can ye tell me what happened?”
She cleared her throat to speak. “There was a loud sound in the shop. I thought I was dreaming at first, and then I heard what sounded like wood splintering.”
“Then what?” he prompted.
She looked away as she confessed, “I was afraid. We’d had someone break into Madame’s shop not that long ago.”
He glanced at her employer. “Did ye report the other incident to the Watch?”
Madame shrugged. “I did not see the need. Mignonette was unharmed and a window was broken. Nothing more.”
O’Malley mumbled beneath his breath, but Mignonette could not hear what he’d said. “Pardon?”
“Thinking out loud.”
“Ah.”
“Were you injured, Lass?”
She hesitated before answering, “Not by the intruders.”
He frowned at her and she shrugged. “I got up from my pallet and crept to the door. I wanted to see who was in Madame’s shop. I heard more than one heavy footfall…and then I heard fabric tearing.”
“Please tell me ye did not try to stop them.”
Mignonette shrugged a second time.
“That’s not a proper answer, Lass. Did ye leave yer room?”
“Oui.”
O’Malley scrubbed a hand over his face, mumbling what sounded like a curse this time, but she did not recognize the word. “Why didn’t ye wait?”
“For someone to walk past the shop late at night and hope that they weren’t in league with the intruders?”
“An excellent question, Mignonette,” Madame Beaudoine remarked. “Would you not agree, Monsieur?”
“Aye, but the Watch make their rounds at night—”
“I’ve never been out that late,” the seamstress replied. “Madame warned me never to venture out alone at night, or else…”
“Or else,” O’Malley prompted.
“Madame would not let either of us stay here,” Yvette responded. “We had to promise.”
“Yvette was the first to stay here until she could find lodging she could afford. Mignonette lives in the back room of my shop now. While it is not ideal for one to have to live where one works, the situation suits us. Does it not?”
“Oui, Madame,” Mignonette replied. “I would never ignore your advice. I closed and locked my door but must have made a sound because one of the men pounded on it so hard it shook. I was forced to flee.”
“Ye’re going to make me ask ye again, aren’t ye, Lass?”
The tone of his voice had her wondering if she had a reason to fear the man…his size was intimidating. “Monsieur?”
“Were ye injured?”
“Just bruised from climbing out the window.”
His eyes widened at her confession, and she’d later swear their color changed to a yellowish-green. “And then what happened?”
“I hid in the doorway to the shop next door.”
“When did ye return?”
She huffed out a breath. She disliked being questioned, but more hated not knowing if Monsieur O’Malley believed her. Finally, she answered, “When the Watch arrived.”
Admiration filled him. “Ye’re a brave lass. Though I cannot think it was the safest choice.”
“Neither would it have been for her to remain in the shop,” Madame reminded him. “Or for her to walk along Bond Street alone…at night…in her nightrail.”
O’Malley’s gaze locked with Mignonette’s and an emotion she did not recognize flared to life in the depths of his changeable eyes.
An answering warmth swept from her toes.
He blinked and the heat in his soft green eyes cooled. “Ye have the right of it, Madame Beaudoine, ‘Twouldn’t be wise.”
Mignonette snuck a glance at the handsome Irishman wondering what duties he performed for the earl. “I shall try to do as you say for the earl.”
Return to The Duke’s ProtectorBuy the Book
