May adjusted her spectacles with a thoughtful expression. "I still think red would suit you. There's something about your coloring that?—"
"No," June interrupted firmly.
"Perhaps just a shawl with red accents?" April suggested, pulling one from a nearby display.
June groaned. "I am neither a debutante nor a courtesan. What possible occasion would warrant such an array of finery?"
"The garden party tomorrow, for one," April said. "And the musicale next week. And the assembly in the village. And?—"
"I take your point," June interrupted. "Though I fail to see how these extravagances will improve my circumstances."
May and April exchanged one of their mysterious twin glances that always made June feel like an outsider to some private conversation.
"It isn't about improving circumstances," May said carefully. "It's about allowing others to see you as we do."
June raised an eyebrow. "As a victim of your sartorial torture?"
"As a woman of remarkable beauty and character," April corrected, her voice softening. "One who deserves to be seen."
The unexpected sincerity caught June off guard, rendering her momentarily speechless. She was saved from having to form a response by the modiste, who appeared with yet another box.
"The gloves you requested, Your Grace," the woman said to April with a curtsy. "And the ribbons for Lady June's evening dress."
"Excellent," April said, accepting the package. "What do you think, June? Shall we add them to the blue dress or the green?"
June opened her mouth to answer, but the gentle tinkling of the shop bell interrupted her. She turned toward the door, then froze in mortification.
No. Not now. Not like this.
But fate, it seemed, had a particularly cruel sense of humor. For there in the doorway stood Theodore Roth and, beside him—looking unfairly handsome in a perfectly tailored coat—Duke of Icemere.
His blue eyes swept the shop, landing on June with such precision that she wondered if he'd known exactly where to find her. A slow smile spread across his face—not the practiced charm he bestowed on others, but something sharper, more genuine, and infinitely more dangerous.
"Well," he said, his voice carrying easily across the shop, "I see we've interrupted something rather... extraordinary."
Theo, catching sight of his wife, offered a bow. "April, my dear. We were on our way to the gunsmith and thought we might inquire if you ladies required a carriage back to the house."
"How thoughtful," April replied, moving to greet her husband with a kiss on the cheek.
June stood frozen, acutely aware of how ridiculous she must appear. She clutched the orange dress to her chest as if it might somehow shield her from Dominic's amused gaze.
"Lady June," Dominic said, approaching her with deliberate slowness. "I must say, you've embraced country fashion with remarkable... enthusiasm."
June felt heat creep up her neck. "This is not—I was merely?—"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted, his eyes dancing with mischief. "The combination is quite inspired. Particularly the shoes. Most ladies content themselves with matching pairs, but you've pioneered an entirely new approach."
She glanced down at her mismatched footwear and curled her toes in embarrassment. "I was in the process of trying different styles."
"Simultaneously? How efficient of you." He circled her, studying her ensemble with exaggerated interest. "And the bonnet is a masterpiece. I'm particularly fond of that aggressive feather that seems intent on claiming your eye as its territory."
June reached up and yanked the offending headpiece from her head, sending several feathers floating to the floor. "I was not planning on purchasing it," she said stiffly.
"A pity. It had such character." He plucked one of the fallen feathers from the ground and twirled it between his fingers. "Though I suppose one must draw the line somewhere. Even fashion has its limits."
June began gathering the items strewn about her, desperate to restore some semblance of dignity. "If you'll excuse me, Your Grace, I should change into something more appropriate."
"Please, don't on my account." His smile widened. "I find this unguarded version of Lady June Vestiere quite refreshing."
