Silk Is For Seduction Read Online Free PDF

occurred on the Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of the week preceding Easter. The weather, which had promised so well earlier in the week, had turned, bringing a chill wind. Nonetheless, all of Paris’s haut ton appeared, all dressed in the latest fashions, and showing off their fine horses and carriages. These went up the road on one side and down on the other. The center belonged to royal carriages and others of the highest ranks. But a great many attending, of both high and lower degree, traversed the parade on foot, as Clevedon had chosen to do, the better to study and eavesdrop on the audience as well as the participants.
    He’d forgotten how dense a crowd it was, far greater than Hyde Park at the fashionable hour. For a time he wondered how the devil he was supposed to find Madame Noirot. Everyone and her grandmother came to Longchamp.
    Mere minutes later, he was wondering how it would have been possible to miss her.
    She made a commotion, exactly as she’d done at the opera. Only more so. All he had to do was turn his gaze in the direction where the accidents happened, and there she was.
    People craned their necks to see her. Men drove their carriages into other carriages. Those on foot walked into lamp posts and each other.
    And she was enjoying herself thoroughly, of that he had no doubt.
    This time, because he viewed her from a distance, undistracted by the brilliant dark eyes and beckoning voice, he could take in the complete picture: the dress, the hat . . . and the way she walked. From a distance, he could pay attention to the ensemble: the straw bonnet trimmed with pale green ribbons and white lace, and the lilac coat that opened below the waist to display a pale green fluttery concoction underneath.
    He watched one fellow after another approach her. She would pause briefly, smile, say a few words, then walk on, leaving the men staring after her, all wearing the same dazed expression.
    He supposed that was what he’d looked like last night, after she’d taken her leave of him.
    He made his way through the crowd to her side. “Madame Noirot.”
    “Ah, there you are,” she said. “Exactly the man I wished to see.”
    “I should hope so,” he said, “considering you invited me.”
    “Was it an invitation?” she said. “I thought it was a broad hint.”
    “I wonder if you hinted the same to everyone at the Italian Opera. They all seem to be here.”
    “Oh, no,” she said. “I only wanted you. They’re here because it’s the place to be seen. Longchamp. Passion Week. Everyone comes on holy pilgrimage to see and be seen. And here am I, on display.”
    “A pretty display it is,” he said. “And exceedingly modish it must be, judging by the envious expressions on the women’s faces. The men are dazzled, naturally—but they’re no use to you, I daresay.”
    “It’s a delicate balance,” she said. “I must be agreeable to the men, who pay the bills. But it’s the ladies who wear my clothes. They won’t be eager to patronize my shop if they see me as a rival for the attentions of their beaux.”
    “Yet you dropped me a broad hint to come today and seek you out in this mob,” he said.
    “So I did,” she said. “I want you to pay some bills.”
    It was, yet again, the last thing he expected. This time he was not amused. His body tensed, and his temperature climbed and it had nothing to do with desire. “Whose bills?”
    “The ladies of your family,” she said.
    He could hardly believe his ears. He said, his jaw taut, “My aunts owe you money, and you came to Paris to dun me?”
    “Their ladyships your aunts have never set foot in my shop,” she said. “That’s the problem. Well, one of the problems. But they’re not the main issue. The main issue is your wife.”
    “I don’t have a wife,” he said.
    “But you will,” she said. “And I ought to be the one to dress her. I hope that’s obvious to you by now.”
    He needed a moment to take this in. Then he needed another