The Worldly Widow Read Free

bound to be slight. She moved in only the highest reaches of London society. This was Paris. And she had made up her mind to meet with Miss Dupres in her own setting. So be it. Still, her fingers trembled alarmingly.
    A very proper and demure maid accepted her card and showed her into a small waiting room. Only then did Annabelle begin to relax. Within a few minutes, the door opened to admit a strikingly pretty girl who looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her hair was dark auburn, a hue that was perfectly acceptable to Annabelle ' s sense of aesthetics. Her eyes were large and dark and clearly registered all the shock she was feeling at see ing a lady of quality in such a setting.
    "How do you do? " said Annabelle, rising to her feet and extending her hand in a friendly gesture. "I am Mrs. Jocelyn. You must be Monique Dupres. I have come to make you an offer for the manuscript you so kindly wrote to us about. I must say that the opening pages of your memoir s were highly… diverting. "
    The girl came slowly into the room and eyed Annabelle in astonishment. "You are from…"
    "Yes. I ' m here as a representative of Bailey ' s Press. " Annabelle was used to taking charge of conversations and did so automatically. "May we sit down? "
    Miss Dupres obediently seated herself.
    "I ' ve no wish to inconvenience you during working hours …" said Annabelle, and came to a sudden halt when the infelicity of her remark occurred to her.
    "No, no, " disclaimed Miss Dupres, tying the belt of her almost transparent robe more securely around her waist, "I don ' t start work till ten, unless by special appointment. "
    It was years since Annabelle Jocelyn, nee Summers, had blushed. She felt a small rise in temperature under her skin. By sheer strength of will, she forced the unwanted heat across her cheekbones to cool to a more acceptable degree.
    "Excellent, " she said, and would have slumped with relief, except that Annabelle never allowed herself to give way to slumping or to any other outward show which might betray that a crack had developed in her habitual ironclad composure. She gave a small self-deprecating smile. "I beg your pardon for descending on you uninvited. I know the arrangement was that we should meet on neutral ground. But I was curious, you see. "
    Truth to tell, it was more than curiosity which had brought Annabelle in person across the English Channel and to this particular establishment. She had no wish to buy a pig in a poke. If Monique Dupres was not who and what she represented herself to be, there would be, could be, no question of publishing her memoirs. Annabelle ' s object was solely to verify the girl ' s identity. Both ladies knew it.
    "The reason I wished to meet with you on neutral ground, " murmured Miss Dupres meaningfully, "must be very evident to you now. "
    Annabelle ' s smile was a trifle thin. "I apologize for misjudging you. If I had known what I was getting myself into, you may be sure, I would never have stepped over your threshold. If I ' ve caused you any embarrassment, I ' m sorry for it. "
    " Ç a ne fait rien, " responded the girl with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. "Think nothing of it. If you don ' t mind, why should I? And I assure you, when you leave, I shall forget that you were ever here. "
    "Thank you, " said Annabelle, and meant it from the bottom of her heart. "My one consolation is that I ' m not like to encounter any gentleman to whom I might be introduced in a London drawing room. "
    Though Annabelle had not thought of saying anything humorous, her words produced a spate of laughter in the other girl.
    She waited till the laughter had subsided and gently prodded, "Did I say something funny? "
    "Oh assuré ment, " said the brunette airily. "In this establishment, we get only the crè me de la crè me of masculine society, whether English, French, Prussian, or Russian. You ' ll find them all here, " and she rattled off a string of titles which any hostess on either side of the English