this afternoon you shall see one of my salons,’ he stated. ‘I think you will find it most interesting, n’est-ce pas? Here we do not have the same sales techniques as you have in England, but we shall see, eh?’
When they got back to the salon, he spoke for some moments to one of the women, then turned back to his guests.
‘My assistant informs me that there is presently a customer in the salon, so you shall please come with me and see how we sell gowns in Paris.’
Leading them to a second, velvet-draped doorway, he stood politely aside and ushered them into what he referred to as ‘the salon’.
Amy stared around in awe. A raised platform ran along one wall, and in front of it were dotted elegant little settees with dainty gilded legs.
On one of them was seated an immaculately dressed elderly lady, with a large plumed hat on her head, and a much younger, but equally beautifully dressed woman at her side.
The older woman raised her eyes imperiously at their entrance, but then as the heavy curtains at the end of the platform parted she turned her attention back to the show. A very attractive young woman appeared, dressed in a stunning sapphire-blue ballgown, and walked slowly up and down the platform with her hand on her hip, twirling this way and that so that the gown was shown to its best advantage. The moment she disappeared, another equally confident young woman swept through the curtains in a totally different style of gown.
‘In Paris, this is how we display our gowns to our customers,’ whispered Monsieur Laroque. ‘Two models parade in the gowns until the customer sees one that they like. Only then do they order a copy and give their measurements.’
Amy sat entranced as the two models, with smiles seemingly painted on their faces, came and went.
‘You approve of our designs, yes?’ Monsieur Laroque enquired. He leaned forward and went on in a hushed voice, ‘My salons are frequented by the very elite of Paris society, so they expect to be … how do you say … pampered?’
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly as Monsieur Laroque gave them a tour of his fashion house. He took them upstairs to meet the seamstresses and some of his designers who worked in a separate room.
That evening, as Amy and the Forresters enjoyed a leisurely dinner together in the hotel dining room, she could talk of little else. She and Josephine retired, tired but content, leaving Mr Forrester to partake of a nightcap with some other gentlemen in the bar.
After hastily washing, Amy pulled on her nightgown and took the pins from her hair, She then brushed it until it shone before leaping into the huge comfortable bed where she snuggled down and slept like a baby.
The following day passed much as the first. Monsieur Laroque took them to visit another, if possible even grander one of his salons, situated on the other side of the River Seine – known as the Left Bank – near the Palais du Luxembourg. While they were there, he left some of Amy’s designs with his head designer to peruse.
During the afternoon, as they rattled back to the hotel over the Pont Neuf, heading once more for the rue de Rivoli, he enquired politely, ‘Please to tell me. Have you made any arrangements for this evening?’
Still struggling to understand his deep accent, Amy was relieved when Mr Forrester answered for them. ‘No, monsieur, I think we were intending to stay in at the hotel.’
‘Ah, good, good. Then may I ask if you would care to join my family and myself for dinner at our home – the Château de Chêne. Le chêne is an oak tree – I believe you British have the hearts of oak, n’est-ce pas?’ He beamed at them. ‘My wife, Edwige, and my son and daughter, François and Adeline, are most eager to meet you.’
Amy’s eyes danced with excitement at the prospect as she glanced towards Mr Forrester to see what his reply would be.
‘That is most kind of you, monsieur. My wife and Miss Ernshaw and I would be delighted to accept your invitation.’
‘Then that is settled,’ said their host. ‘My carriage shall call for you at seven o’clock. I trust that will give you both time to prepare?’
Amy hugged herself in anticipation. Oh, what a lot she was going to have to tell Molly and Toby when she got home. They were never going to believe