Within moments, she had gently ushered out the other patrons. The ladies departed with curious glances, and all Alethea could do was offer them a timid smile in return.
"There was no need for that," she whispered to Oliver as the ladies cleared out.
Oliver scoffed, waving his hand in the air. "Of course there was. I want to make this entire experience as comfortable for you as possible."
Alethea pondered over it for a few moments. The idea of others watching her did make her uneasy. "Thank you for the consideration then," she muttered softly.
Oliver gave her a reassuring half-smile as the madame returned to them. "Now, let us choose the fabrics. Perhaps a silk? I believe that a pale blue would suit your complexion well."
The madame draped a pale blue fabric over Alethea's shoulder, observing it closely from behind her bespectacled eyes before swapping it out for an olive green swatch.
"Or perhaps this?"
Alethea gingerly touched fabric. It felt cool underneath her fingers, and more elegant than any of the fabrics that she had a chance to work with before in her life.
"It's beautiful," she admitted softly. "But it must be expensive."
Oliver stepped nearer, inspecting the fabric over her shoulder.
"We'll have that one," he says decisively, "and the pale blue as well. Do you have any other options?"
It dawned on Alethea that he did not even bother with asking for the price.
"Superb choices, Your Grace," the madame beamed, "Perhaps a rich velvet too. I have some options in burgundy."
Alethea's eyes widened. Was she hearing them correctly? Three gowns. She did not even want to begin to fathom what the costs would come out to.
"Your Grace, really, I think one would suffice," she tried to argue.
He met her gaze.
"Nonsense. A duchess needs a full wardrobe,'" he said, and then noticing the mildly horrified expression on her face, softened his tone. "Indulge me, Alethea. I promise it's no trouble at all."
"All right. You are too generous, truly."
"We'll take the velvet as well," Oliver turned to the madame. "And perhaps one gown in ivory silk for a special occasion. Or even two."
The madame looked elated. It must not be every day that a customer walked in and made such a large order.
"Lovely, lovely," she wrung her hands in front of her. "I assure you, we will make something quite spectacular for your Duchess." She motioned to her assistant. "Marie, let us get Her Grace's measurements and do a quick fitting for the bodice."
The assistant hastened, bringing over a measuring tape. She guided Alethea over to a small pedestal that was surrounded by mirrors. Oliver was only a few steps behind her, watching Alethea.
"Oh, you have a lovely figure," the madame exclaimed, overlooking her assistant who carefully taking various measurements at the bust, waist, and hips.
Alethea felt her cheeks redden, knowing that Oliver was in the room and overhearing everything. It felt strangely intimate to be measured for a fitting when her husband was only a few meters away.
As though reading her mind, Oliver moved back a few paces, giving her a respectful distance while still observing.
Madame Beaulieu wrapped the tape around Alethea's waist. "Yes, I can already imagine that the gowns will suit you perfectly."
Alethea flushed at the compliment. It felt undeserved, as no one before had said anything of the sort to her before. She caught Oliver's eyes in the mirror for an instant. He was still looking at her.
Her blush deepened.
"Now, if you could try this on…" Marie held up a half-finished muslin gown, a plain mock-up used for fitting. Alethea slipped behind a silk screen to quickly change out of her day dress. She re-emerged in the muslin gown, its back open and sides loosely pinned.
Oliver's gaze lifted to meet hers in the reflection.
