Nye, Jody Lynn - Everything to Order

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Everything to Order

Jody Lynn Nye

The bell rang precisely at the appointed hour of eleven. As the porter swung wide the door, Miss Violet

Carr peered out at the three well-dressed women standing on the steps half-clad in darkness. At first she

was cross with the porter for not lighting enough lamps, but she realized that the visitors were hanging

back in the folds of the thick fog that wrapped around the London night. Miss Carr curtsied and dipped

her beautifully coiffed head with the deferential half-bow she reserved for members of the titled class.

They all wore heavy coats of velvet lined with the most expensive sables, with more furs wrapping them

to the ears. Their hats were also black fur, from which depended thick black silk veils. The outfits must

have been sweltering on an August night. "Welcome to the House of Feldon, ladies," Miss Carr said,

with deference and cordiality. Silently, the shrouded figures slipped one by one over the threshold. Once

inside, they lifted their veils. Miss Carr scanned the faces and hesitated slightly, conscious of the

possibility of making a dreadful faux pas and starting the evening out on the wrong foot. "I… I beg your

pardon for asking—which of you is Countess Dracula?"

"We all are," the eldest said. She gave Miss Carr a smile as curiously undefinable as her accent. She

didn't seem to be very much older than the youngest, who seemed as though she could boast the same

number of years as Miss Carr herself, twenty-four.

Violet Carr was young for a vendeuse, but was grateful for the opportunity that the owner of the House

of Feldon had bestowed upon her, to oversee showings of the house line to clients, to take orders, and to

supervise fittings of the chosen garments. It was a position of trust, and she already had two—two!—

titled clients who asked particularly for her when they came to the House of Feldon. She hoped to

increase her status this very evening, if it meant she had to stay up until dawn.

"We must thank you for your indulgence in allowing us to come to you so very late," the eldest countess

said. "We keep late hours. It is not an English custom. All of your shops are closed before sunset. How

are we to make our purchases? Other houses of fashion of whom we made this little request were unable

to accommodate us. It is most inconvenient."

"We endeavor to please," Miss Carr said, pleased for Mrs. Feldon-Jacobs's sake. It surely would be

worthwhile having remained. These ladies were possessed of fabulous wealth. The necklace about the

neck of the youngest countess was composed of real diamonds, each stone the size of Miss Carr's thumb

tip. Such jewels had to be worth the value of a steamship. Those other couturiers would regret having

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Everything to Order

refused, and Mrs. Feldon-Jacobs would have reason to be smug.

Her eagerness must have showed upon her face, because the eldest countess smiled. She had a most

interesting face. It spoke to Miss Carr of high breeding and quality. The cheekbones were particularly

beautiful, not too protruberant, yet with a piquant shadow beneath. Her nose was high-bridged, narrow

as a hawk's beak, and she had large, deep brown eyes that seemed to be a blend of black and red, and

black-brown hair swept up into sleek folds around her head. She wore black velvet sewn with jet beads

and fringe that swayed gently as she moved. The second lady was very much like her, the lineaments of

her dark-complected face spare as a sculpture, with large dark eyes. Her dress, also of velvet, was blood

red, trimmed in jet and garnets. The third lady, clad in heavy blue velvet, was equally striking, lovely in

a more English manner, with masses of blonde hair, fair skin, and large, luminously blue eyes. At least

their beauty would be more pleasant if these ladies had the bloom of health upon them. They were all so

very pale. Perhaps in Rumania ladies of quality were not permitted or encouraged to take the air very

often. It was on the tip of Miss Carr's tongue to ask, but good manners took over. It was not a question

she would ever ask of an Englishwoman. She must not allow her training to desert her even though these

were only foreigners.

Pages, yawning openly due to the late hour, assisted the countesses in removing their coats and hats, and

vanished with the garments to the cloakroom. Miss Carr took the lead, escorting her visitors into the

salon. She heard a murmur of approval from behind her as she stepped aside to allow them to enter the

chamber ahead of her. The room, the most superior of the five that Mrs. Feldon-Jacobs maintained, had

walls covered in Regency-striped oyster silk with dark wood trim and doors. A vase of lilies stood on

one occasional table, and a vase of ostrich feathers adorned the other. She was pleased to see that the

porter had raised a good fire in the marble-lined grate, and begged the visitors to make themselves at

home. The second-eldest countess took the most comfortable chair, a luxuriously padded, chestnut-

coloured upholstered leather armchair with mahogany legs that sat at one side of the fireplace, and was

chased from thence by a glance from her senior. Strangely, the eldest did not sit down in it herself, but

left it for their fair-haired junior, who sank into it with the grace of a queen.

"How may our establishment assist you?" Miss Carr asked, standing before them a trifle nervously. In

light of the byplay she had just witnessed, she did not quite know which one to address.

"We do not wish anything that has been worn before by anyone else," the eldest said, settling herself at

one end of the bottle-green velvet couch at the other side of the hearth. "We are here for haute couture,

nothing less. This house has produced handsome wares in the past. That is what we wish."

"Made-to-measure, then," Miss Carr said, inwardly jubilant. Bespoke gowns were worth to the

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