Miss Lacey's Last Fling (A Regency Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Rosie had ordered morning dresses, promenade dresses, carriage dresses, evening dresses, and ball gowns, as well as capes, pelisses, and spencers. She had also procured an assortment of silk undergarments and several rather daring corsets that gave her more curves than she would have thought possible.
    The next few days were spent buying slippers and stockings and gloves and reticules and bonnets and every other sort of accessory that Aunt Fanny thought necessary. And finally, the hairdresser was sent for. Monsieur Julien, her aunt told her, was the best and most famous coiffeur in London. Rosie felt as if she were meeting royalty and almost cowed under his Gallic glare. She let her hair down and stood rigid as he circled her, touching her hair and holding out a thick lock to examine it.
    "Off!" he exclaimed. "All off. Eet eez too much."
    Rosie experienced a moment of panic. What if he cut off all her hair and it looked horrible? Her desire to look fashionable would be thwarted, and there would be no time to grow it back. She chewed on her lower lip and considered the matter.
    "You refuse to cut eet?" Monsieur Julien said, his voice raising in outrage. "Zen I leave. I cannot work weeth zeez... zeez mess."
    "Please, Monsieur," Aunt Fanny said in her most charming tone, "do not be hasty. It is a big decision to cut off so much hair, is it not? You must be patient with Miss Lacey. She needs your skill with the scissors. I am certain she is willing to put herself in your hands, are you not, my dear?"
    In for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes, of course. Please do what you think best, Monsieur."
    "Eet eez best to cut eet off," he said, and led her to a chair. "Eet eez too 'eavy and your face eez too narrow."
    He draped a cloth about her shoulders, and within minutes the floor was thick with Rosie's hair. He continued to cut, using smaller scissors once the length had been chopped off. Rosie had worn her hair long all her life. The sudden absence of its weight, the cool air upon her neck, was positively liberating. She had no idea how it would look, but it felt wonderful.
    Monsieur Julien stepped back and studied his work. " Et voil à ." he said. " Parfait ."
    Rosie glanced at her aunt who smiled and nodded her head. "It is wonderful," she said. "See for yourself."
    Rosie took a deep breath before looking in the hand mirror she'd been given. When she did look, she almost failed to recognize the face in the reflection. Soft curls framed her cheeks and brow. Curls?
    Monsieur's deft fingers primped and fluffed at his creation while Rosie continued to stare in disbelief. "Where did all these curls come from? You did not use an iron."
    "Ze iron eez not necessaire . Ze curls are naturelle , Mademoiselle. Ze too long hair eez too 'eavy. Eet stretch ze curl straight. But Monsieur Julien make parfait , non ?"
    Rosie tilted her head from side to side as she admired her new look in the mirror. She could not keep the smile from her face. "Yes. It is indeed perfect. Thank you so much, Monsieur."
    The Frenchman smiled and turned to Aunt Fanny. "She eez beautiful, non ?"
    "She is indeed."
    And Rosie felt beautiful. Or close enough. Her nose was still too long and her mouth too wide and her cheeks too thin, but she felt almost beautiful for the first time in her life.
    The next day, when she had dressed in one of her new evening frocks in preparation for Lady Wadsworth's rout, Rosie stared at her reflection in the pier glass and was pleased with what she saw. The dress was claret-colored crepe worn over a pink gossamer satin slip. The sleeves were short and full, composed of alternating panels of claret and pink, gathered into lattice-patterned bands of the same colors. A similar lattice band encircled the high waist. The bodice dipped shockingly low and revealed so much bosom that Rosie felt almost naked.
    She could hardly believe the woman in the mirror was the same one who had left Devon only a week ago. That Rosie would never have dreamed of