“The dining room has been the focus of my staff. This floor is little used, and this room, never.”
“But these gowns are not old. By the style and the condition, I should say just a few weeks. Whom did they belong to?”
“They belong to me. I bought them,” he answered with a snap, “and they have been here for six months if you must know.”
Harriet thinned her lips. “I was asking out of curiosity only. For a man who must playact at being affianced, you have a well-stocked lady's wardrobe. As a married man would. It is natural that I would ask.”
He held up his left hand to show the absence of a wedding band.
“Unmarried and with no interest in entering such a state. I will let you choose a suitable dress now. I have matters to attend to.”
With that, he strode from the room. Harriet stamped her foot and stuck out her tongue at his back.
“I will not put up with his prickly demeanor. Freedom is not worth it!”
With an infuriated sigh, she began taking out the dresses, laying them over the dressing table, one atop the other. The fabrics felt soft and supple under her fingers, and the colors were radiant. The truth was that deep down, she felt that freedom was worth it.
When did Ralph ever treat me to a new dress? Twice since my debut. When have I been privileged with the opportunity to wear a new gown? I cannot even recall for certain…
A knock came at the door then, and a young maid stepped inside. Dark hair framed a round, dimpled face, wide eyes the same deep shade. Harriet judged her no more than eighteen—perhaps younger by a year or two.
“His Grace sent me to help you dress, milady,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
“Yes, I must find something more suitable than this before dinner,” Harriet groused back. “Oh, and please, let us not partake in honorifics during my short stay here. My name is Harriet Tisdale. What is your name?”
“…Oh! Dorothy, milady,” the girl curtsied clumsily.
“Right, Dorothy. I have narrowed down my choices, but would welcome your thoughts.”
“Well...Harriet,” the maid began tentatively, skimming the fabrics over with a critical eye. “I was a dressmaker's apprentice before I entered service, and I think the first two would flatter your figure far less than the third.”
Harriet considered the two dresses that Dorothy had identified. She had liked the look of both based on their colors, but Dorothy went on to point out how the woman they had been crafted forhad a fuller bust than Harriet, with a touch more accentuated hips.
“Whereas this one,” the girl continued, gaining confidence, “has a more forgiving cut. It will disguise those differences and look as though it were crafted for you alone.” She drew the gown from the wardrobe, holding it up for inspection.
It was plainer than the other two Harriet had selected, but with her mundane knowledge on fashion, she rather trusted the confidence in the maid’s manner.
“Very well. I shall choose this one,” she finally declared.
“I think the dark green would complement your eyes.”
Harriet smiled brightly. “Done. I feel fortunate that the Duke employs such an expert to furnish his wardrobes.”
Dorothy blushed. “I was employed because His Grace wished to flatter a lady who preferred lovely gowns. He learned that my employer had gone out of business and that I needed employment.”
“That was kind of him. Who was this busty, hippy lady?” Harriet asked, keeping her tone light but actually keen to know.
It should not matter to me. It does not matter to me. I shall be Jeremy's fiancée for a month, and after that shall probably never see him again.
That thought brought a pang to her that she tried to ignore, dismissing it as pure foolishness.
“They were engaged… I think. Leastways, that’s the feeling I got. Why else buy so many gowns? Oh—heavens, I’m running my mouth again. Please excuse me, milady—um,Harriet. I always speak before I think, and I’d hate for you to think me a gossip.”
Harriet had turned to let the maid unbutton her dress and now looked back over her shoulder at the tone of panic that suddenly filled the young girl’s voice.
“Do not worry. You’ve not overstepped, and I’ll not breathe a word of it to the Duke,” she said gently.
“Thank you. That is kind of you.”
