Page 39 of Duke in Darkness

Lilian nearly laughed at the mix of excitement and panic on the modiste’s face. To create an entire wardrobe for a young duchess would put her skill and creativity on prominent display, elevate her standing no end, and bring in countless new customers. Probably pay off her indenture and even allow her to open her own shop. But if Lilian wanted every item as soon as possible…

“Don’t worry. The ball gown would be required at once, but the rest when you are able.”

“Right you are, ma’am,” said Daisy, her relief palpable. “Shall we get started, then? We’ve got in some lovely new fashion plates, and the latest La Belle Assemblée and Ackermann’s Repository. Anything you like, I can make. Then I’ll take your measurements to ensure a perfect fit. Would you like tea?”

“That would be most welcome,” Lilian said, as she and Dawn followed the modiste into a curtained off private area especially for the highest ranking customers.

Soon they were settled on a chaise and surrounded by fashion plates, with steaming cups of tea sitting on a low table in front of them. Dawn had been her maid long enough to know her taste, so also perused plates to help the decision-making go faster. They had to be back at Exton House for the ledger meeting with Mr. Fairlie at three o’clock, and absolutely could not be late this time.

It was difficult to choose when there were so many options, though. And she wanted a style that Exton would admire, but she also liked. Daisy wasn’t the only person excited at the thought of a whole new wardrobe. To know, in future, she could open her armoire and see colors and fabrics and trims that she had chosen rather than Grandmother, was heady indeed. No, more than heady. Liberating, like a caterpillar escaping a cocoon to become a butterfly.

But first she had to have a ball gown. The armor of a faultless ensemble to help her navigate her first public outing as Duchess of Exton, for the ton tabbies were probably already sharpening their claws in anticipation. Quick, private weddings were always gossiped about, yet this had the added spice of a mysterious, reclusive, ex-army duke who also happened to be her late fiancé’s cousin.

Lilian shivered. Perhaps actual armor would be better. And a sword.

“What are you thinking, ma’am?”

She glanced up at Dawn and smiled ruefully. “I’m thinking this gown has to be impossibly perfect.”

Her maid sniffed. “Don’t know why you hold yourself to such standards. You’ll never please everyone, no matter how hard you try.”

“I’m not trying to please everyone,” she said too-sharply, stung.

Dawn took a sip of her tea. “Mmmm. Nice and hot. My bones will be glad when the weather is warmer, and that’s a fact.”

Lilian rolled her eyes at the unsubtle change of subject, and returned to her pile of fashion plates. After an hour of assessing and discarding, she wanted to wail in frustration. Not one plate had everything she needed, and mostly the necklines were to blame. Some were so low her nipples would barely be covered. Others had a wide band of Brussels lace that she knew from experience would itch. More than a few boasted the kind of high, excessively modest necklines that Grandmother would heartily approve of and Exton would hate. And the last lot were gowns with flounces so pronounced at the bodice, sleeves and hem, that she would resemble a walking, talking set of drapes.

Just when she thought to concede defeat, she saw it.

Picking up the fashion plate, Lilian sighed in reverence. The ball gown could be made in any color, but the one in this sketch was sapphire-blue and absolutely beautiful. The sleeves were short and only slightly puffed, the neckline square and trimmed with lace to draw the eye to a lady’s bosom yet only reveal the very top, and a narrow fitted gold sash rested just beneath. The gown fell to ankle length, as appropriate for dancing, but the overlay of lace had a glorious pattern of small flowers, and each flower had a tiny cluster of paste gems at the center that would shimmer when she moved. “This one. In silk.”

Dawn looked over and her face lit up. “Ooooh, yes, ma’am. You’ll look a treat.”

“Daisy!” Lilian called out, and seconds later, the modiste ducked around the curtain.

“You’ve found something?”

“I have. I do hope it can be done, because it is the gown of my dreams.”

The modiste grinned. “Of course it can be done, Your Grace. I’ll work day and night if need be. What is your choice?”

Lilian handed over the plate, and Daisy nodded thoughtfully. “Silk? What colors would you like the gown?”

“Silk, yes. As a matter of fact, I love the blue.”

“Just like your eyes, ma’am. It will look lovely. Elbow-length gloves, your hair up with sapphire combs, satin slippers…”

Dawn sighed in rapture. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Getting to her feet, Lilian shook out the skirts of her green gown. After looking at a fashion plate like that, it seemed a crime to be wearing something so ugly and ill-fitting. No wonder Exton hated it so. “Well then, let us take some measurements. I must return home for a meeting, but I shall look forward to coming back for fittings.”

Soon she stood in only her chemise and stays atop a low, padded footstool. Daisy whipped out a tape measure and a small notebook and pencil, and began taking notes. “Excellent figure, ma’am. Very easy to sew for.”

“That is a relief,” said Lilian, smiling, and when Daisy had finished, she stepped down from the stool and Dawn helped her back into the green gown. “Please send a note to Grosvenor Square when you are ready to begin.”

“Of course.”

Lilian nearly twirled as they walked away from the shop. She would be wearing the perfect gown to the Castlereagh ball, and Exton would surely like it. But even better, she had set to rights that dreadful incident at Rundells, and hopefully ensured that her husband would never experience such bad behavior there again.