‘I appreciate that you want the very finest for me...but the thing is...although I am an heiress...truly... I don’t have any money yet, and I would hate to impose upon you further.’
Mantheria moved from her chair on the opposite side of the room to the one next to Louisa. She placed a lace-gloved hand on hers. ‘My dear Louisa, I trust that you will repay me whenever you can. I am not in any hurry. Besides, the bills will be sent to my unfaithful husband, and nothing would please me more than to spend thousands of pounds in his name.’
It was an obvious question, but Louisa couldn’t help but ask, ‘You aren’t happy in your marriage?’
The Duchess squeezed Louisa’s wrist. ‘Sometimes I forget that you haven’t been a part of the family for long. My marriage to the Duke of Glastonbury is not a happy one. He spends his nights and most of his days with his mistress, Lady Dutton. And, like a good little wife, I am supposed to smile and pretend in front of society that I do not know that he is with Cressida. My marriage is an elegant lie.’
Louisa gulped, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘His mistress couldn’t possibly be more beautiful than you.’
Mantheria’s grip on Louisa’s wrist tightened until it hurt. It was clear that the Duchess had already known a great deal of pain in her marriage. The Duke’s betrayal was even worse than her own aunt and uncle’s treatment of her.
‘Beauty has little to do with love.’ Mantheria released her hold on Louisa. ‘Do not be in too much of a hurry to marry, my dear. A lifetime can feel like an eternity with the wrong person at your side. Especially if your heart belongs to another.’
Louisa didn’t know if Mantheria was referring to herself or to the Duke. She worried about her own choices. Would any man love her if she didn’t have money or a title? She feared that Wick held more of her heart than was good for either of them. But he kept on making it abundantly clear that he would not be her suitor, and she couldn’t let her feelings for him stop her from making a suitable match.
‘I will do my best.’
Picking up the bell, Mantheria rang it. ‘That is all you can do.’
Madame Brunet came into the room, followed by three women wearing the most delicate and beautiful ball gowns Louisa had ever seen. She couldn’t stop herself from standing up and examining one more closely. The seams on the bodice of the gown formed a diamond shape in front. Walking behind the assistant, she saw that the sewing style made the back of the dress look very small, emphasising the oversleeves.
‘It’s called a tight back style,’ Madame Brunet said.
Glancing over her shoulder, Louisa saw the modiste standing there.
‘Do you sew, Lady Louisa?’
She bit her lower lip, nodding her head. ‘But nothing as fine as this.’
Madame Brunet smiled. ‘Non.It is all in the pattern, my lady. I am sure you could sew something just as fine. You see the inverted pleats at the centre of the back? They give the dress shape and fullness to the skirt. Some ladies add a small roll or pad to create a subtle roundness, but with your lovely shape no such tricks are needed.’
Louisa blushed as she looked at the next model’s gown. It was trimmed with festooned flounces and interspersed with puffs of net forming rosettes. The final assistant wore yellow crêpe embroidered with floral sprigs and applied shell designs that threw the hem into a three-dimensional relief. Every gown was a work of art. Louisa longed to run her fingers over the embroidery and the perfect little stitches. She wanted to untangle all the secrets of their sewing.
‘One of each gown would be perfect,’ Mantheria said from behind her, still sitting on her chair. ‘But I don’t think yellow would flatter Louisa. It would make her skin look rather sallow.’
Madame Brunet nodded her head vigorously. ‘Yes, yes... Yellow would quite wash out her glorious colouring. But a bright green would look divine on the lady.’
‘And blue,’ Louisa added. ‘Any shade.’
‘One of her dresses must be white,’ the young Duchess said. ‘Every debutante has to have a white dress, and that won’t clash with her red hair.’
Louisa would finally be a debutante. Something she’d always dreamed of being. She pinched herself to make sure that she was truly awake. She felt a brief stab of pain, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure. Wick would see her in these beautiful dresses. They might even dance. Her pulse quickened at the thought of being in his arms again.
‘Why don’t we get her light silk slips in white, pale blue and pink?’ Mantheria said, fiddling with the braided lace. ‘Then she can wear a white net gown or crêpelisséover them for a new look each time.’
Louisa clapped her hands. ‘Oh, I love that idea.’
She could mix and match and use her own skill with the needle to expand her wardrobe without costing the Duchess or her philandering husband any more money. She had no idea how long it would take for Wick to find her trustees, or for them to release to her the yearly allowance.
Mantheria cleared her throat. ‘And any partially finished gown you have on hand that can be altered quickly and sent to my home would be much appreciated,madame. Lady Louisa needs a wardrobe immediately.’
‘I am writing it down now, Your Grace,’ Madame Brunet said, scribbling into a small book. ‘I shall take down your entire order and then we can measuremademoiselleto ensure that each piece of clothing fits her form perfectly.’
Mantheria smiled. ‘Very good, Madame Brunet. Now, about a court gown... We will need it by the end of the week.’
The modiste shook her head. ‘I am afraid that a court gown would take several weeks to complete, Your Grace. Even if my seamstresses sewed through the night we could not complete it in time.’
‘Blast!’ the Duchess said, and exhaled loudly. ‘I have managed to weasel a spot at St James’s on Thursday evening by calling in a favour. Is there nothing you can do?’