The Dressmaker Read Online Free PDF Page B

are
the
Lady Duff Gordon, and everyone on this ship knows no other designer can touch you. Now calm down.”
    Only then did Lucile seem to remember Tess’s presence. “Sorry for this peek behind the veil, my dear,” she said. “Even the regal can get blindsided. There are always people out to get you in my business, something you might as well learn now as later. I’ve fought for what I have—” She glanced at Cosmo. “With the support of my dear husband, of course.”
    “My wife, as usual, is being a bit flamboyant,” he said evenly. “Really, dear, you are much too agitated.”
    It was as if they were exchanging familiar lines, like actors in a play, and Tess was their audience.
    “Of course. I’m a successful woman, with everything I’ve ever wanted. And I intend it to stay that way.”
    “Nicely said.” Cosmo put his pipe down in the ashtray. “Now I’m going to check and see if we are at the captain’s table tonight. That would please you, I’m sure.”
    Lucile gave him a bright smile. “Lovely, dear.”
    The tense atmosphere in the room was easing, and Tess felt that she could breathe again. She stood silently as Cosmo smiled in that serene, detached way of his, pecked his wife on the cheek, picked up his glasses, and left the room.
    “You have to humor them, you know.” Lucile sighed lightly as the door closed. “Men can be boring, but they are necessary. One needs to learn to work around them. Don’t you think so?”
    There was no casual answer, not with the gap between their stations. Tess stayed quiet.
    Lucile walked over to the dressing table, picked up her bracelet, and casually tossed it into her jewelry box. “You didn’t answer me,” she said.
    “I wouldn’t know, Madame,” Tess finally said.
    “Why not? Are you saying you’ve had no experience with men?”
    “Not much.”
    “Oh, come now, Tess. What about those village boys your mother warned you away from?” Lucile was opening a gold compact filled with powder, and Tess could see her hand shaking slightly.
    “I’m sorry about the other designer,” she said. “Surely she’s no threat to you.”
    “Everybody, at some point or another, is a threat,” Lucile said, patting powder lightly across her nose and cheekbones. “That’s why I must keep them all on their toes. It’s an act, Tess. And it has worked so far.” She looked up, her eyes suddenly almost watery. “I know what you want, and I’m going to try to help you get there. But it takes more than talent.”
    “Thank you,” Tess said.
    “So when will I get those references you promised?” Lucile asked abruptly, turning back to her dressing table, reaching now for a bottle of crimson nail polish.
    “References?” Tess could only imagine the anger of the mistress of the house she had fled in Cherbourg, who would certainly have nothing good to say about her. References? There were none. Surely Madame had sensed that.
    Lucile looked up from dabbing lacquer onto her nails and laughed. “You should see your face, Tess. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in references—I was just playing with you. Tell me more about your life. I’m curious—not many a young woman would have jumped to leave her country on a minute’s notice as fast as you did. Why?”
    “I actually planned it. For a long time.”
    “Were you running away from something?” Lucile asked lightly.
    “Just cleaning closets and toilets. And not getting paid for my real work.”
    “Any regrets?”
    “Absolutely none.” Tess said this with such fervor that Lucile laughed again.
    “Well, that’s good, because my brain is busy cutting you into pattern pieces. What do you think of that? We’re going to stitch a newTess Collins together. Maybe we’ll find a way to hone those sewing skills of yours.”
    “I will do my best, truly.”
    “I’m quite sure you will.” Lucile covered a yawn with her hand. “Now if you don’t mind, as soon as this polish dries I’m going to take a short