Page 30 of His Haunted Duchess
“There are so very many people,” Lady Caroline said, moving closer to him. “I—I hardly know where to walk.”
He reached out his hand to her then pulled back. She could manage herself, surely. And yet?—
“We’re almost there, dear,” Esther called back over her shoulder. “It should be—there, now!”
A smartly dressed girl with pink ribbons in her hair bowed them into the shop.
“The modiste is waiting, Your Grace. She has been anticipating your arrival.”
Caroline stepped forward. Frederic’s eyes pulled to her face like a boat to the sea. Wonder flickered over it then delight, followed quickly by a blush of self-consciousness. He smiled.
“After you, my lady.” He gestured her forward. “After all, while I am tangentially involved, we are not necessarily here to purchase a gown on my account.”
“Mrs. Gray,” Esther led Caroline forward, “may I present the Lady Caroline, the Duke of Blackmore’s betrothed.”
The modiste’s eyebrows shot up like shutters. Frederic frowned. His mother, no doubt, had written of an engagement but had tactfully neglected to name the parties involved. He raised his chin. It wasn’t tactful to be ashamed of her future daughter-in-law. He stepped forward and placed Caroline’s hand on his arm.
“We are very grateful for your services, Mrs. Gray,” he said, bowing, “both in the past in service to my mother and now, in the present, in service to my wife.”
“Future wife,” Esther corrected. “But, I believe, Mrs. Gray—you said you had some pieces prepared.”
Mrs. Gray bowed. Despite her name, she was a young matron, perhaps not older than five and thirty, with crimpled brown hair and an easy, open face.
“After a busy three days, Your Grace, I have a gown, a manteau, and a pair of gloves, just as you asked. They aren’t quite finished yet, but they’re ready enough for a proper fitting.”
They stepped forward into a small sitting room, spanned on one side with a tall mirror set in a carved frame painted gold. On the other sat a small table and two chairs of hard, polished wood.
Mrs. Gray moved to a hook next to the mirror on which hung an ephemeral silk dress. Frederic squinted at it.
“The dress is silver lamé.” Mrs. Gray passed a quick hand over her creation. “It shines like a star when the light hits it.”
Caroline gently stroked the fabric as she might have a small kitten.
“It’s a very beautiful dress,” she said. “Thank you for going to so much trouble on my behalf. I couldn’t be more pleased.”
Mrs. Gray bowed. Esther smiled triumphantly.
“Would you like to try it on, dear?”
Caroline’s smile peeped out of her bonnet like a daisy through the snow. Frederic retired to one of the wooden chairs and sat down. If his mother’s habits were any indication, he had full opportunity to rest while Caroline disrobed and changed robes. He blinked. Changed into her gown, he meant.
In a surprisingly short time, she emerged. Frederic caught his breath. He couldn’t swear to the dress shining like starlight, but Lady Caroline certainly did.
“My compliments, Mrs. Gray. Your handiwork is even more exceptional than usual.”
Mrs. Gray bobbed a curtsey then turned back to Lady Caroline.
“There’s a manteau here, trimmed with point Brussels lace. It’s—if I say so humbly, your ladyship—one of the best pieces I’ve ever produced.”
She lifted another shimmering garment off an adjacent hook. The ladies touched it reverently.
“Oh, how I wish sometimes that my son Philip would have any use for a piece like this!” Esther breathed. “But perhaps I am yet to eager for him to be presented to the world.
“I’ll be sure to tell him you said so,” Frederic said. “He could wear this lovely manteau to his own wedding, perhaps?”
His mother scowled at him, but Lady Caroline laughed. Esther’s face softened.
“If you tuck your arms just so,” Mrs. Gray said, “no one will be able to see your hands.”
