“Sal’s not got a place for a lady to try on a dress,” she said. “And I know how to fit a dress better than he would!” She winked at Evangeline as Solly opened the dressmaker’s box and folded back the paper.
“Oh, my.” The words evaporated in her throat as Evangeline stared at the dress. It was brilliant, literally. The bodice and overskirt glowed like a garnet in the sunlight, deep and luscious. The blue underskirt was brighter, the brilliant blue of a late summer twilight. She’d never had such a colorful dress.
“Sal wanted to do it in parrot green and some shade of yellow.” Mrs. Hutchins made a face. “I told him, you’ll never! What that lady needs is blue, to make the most of her complexion. See!” She held up a scrap of the blue silk next to Evangeline’s face. “Don’t you think?” she appealed to Solly.
The other woman tilted her head and nodded. “Yes. I told her blue is a good color for her.”
Mrs. Hutchins nodded decisively. “So it is, and the red will give her a nice pink in the cheeks. And they go so well together, although I did have to make Sal order it. He had the blue already, on account of gentlemen wanting it for waistcoats and such, butthey’re not so much for this mulberry color, the gents. Sal’s got quite the eye for cut and silhouette, I’ll give him that, but his color sense...” She rolled her eyes.
Solly helped Evangeline out of her day dress and into the dazzling new creation. Evangeline hesitated to look at herself in the mirror, realizing it had been a long time since she’d done so with a real hope of being impressed. She was accustomed to straining seams, extra fabric in the skirt, and muted colors that somehow never looked as good on her as they did in the dressmaker’s sketchbook.
“Look, madam,” urged Solly, tugging the overskirt into place.
Slowly she turned and almost gasped aloud. The dress didn’t attempt to minimize her bosom or hips. If anything, it emphasized her curves. The intricate folds of the bodice settled low across her breasts without appearing strained, and the skirt skimmed closer to her waist and hips than more fashionable dresses did, making her appear... not slender, but more trim than before.
“You might have a petticoat made to fit it better,” noted Mrs. Hutchins, fussing over the bodice seams with a chalk. “Long and light until the height of a garter. Then add some fullness, to carry the hem.”
“Yes,” agreed Solly, inspecting the dress from the front. “And the stays as well.”
Mrs. Hutchins joined her and they studied Evangeline’s figure as if she were a mannequin of wood. “You’re right. Who made this corset?” she said, before checking herself and looking abashed. “None of my business.”
“Mrs. Tipton in St James’s Street,” murmured Evangeline, still staring at herself in the mirror. Her mother had always scolded her about her posture, so she did not slump, but this dress made her want to stand taller. Her neck looked elegant, rising from the jewel-bright fabric. Even the sleeves wereflattering, not the popular puffed sleeves but a closer fitting cap topped with delicately rippled silk, to give the same look without the volume.
Mrs. Hutchins scoffed. “Mrs. Tipton! She does fine work, if a body is a willowy reed. Well, you can’t stuff a stocking with apples and call it a sausage.” She nodded once. “Go to Louisa Turnbull, in Leicester Square. Not so fashionable as Mary Tipton, but she knows how to make a proper corset.”
“Very well,” said Evangeline, beginning to feel something like giddiness. “I will. And I’ll take another gown from Mr. Salvatore, along with four day dresses.”
“Four—? Truly, m’lady?” gasped Mrs. Hutchins, taken aback.
She nodded. “Send the sketches as soon as Mr. Salvatore can make them.”
As she went about her day, she thought about those dresses. Of course they were just clothes, and she already had plenty of clothes, most of the highest quality. But that gown had felt different. It looked nothing like the restrained, respectable garments filling her wardrobe, and she’d loved it. She’d felt at ease in it, not constricted or awkward. Even more, she’d felt beautiful.
She returned from her visit to Fanny to find a note from Richard. “He delivered it himself,” Solly told her. “And the picture of anxiety he was. He waited nearly an hour before saying he had to go, and begged me to give this to you at once when you returned.”
Evangeline paused before opening it. He’d dined with Allen and his friends the night before; who knew what those men might have told him? Then she shook herself for attributing her own fears to Richard, and broke the seal.
My dearest Evangeline-
My nephew has fallen ill while visiting his friend in Lyme Regis, and my sister is pleading with me to take her to him. I shall return as soon as she is delivered, and I must speak to you when I do. In the meantime, I beg you not to credit too fully any story you may hear about me or my actions at Lord Allen’s dinner. Please allow me to explain before you render judgment.
I remain, as ever, your servant?—
RC
She read it again, eyebrows raised. What had he done? And why was he worried what she would think of it?
Because it’s about you,whispered a nagging voice in her head.Somehow.
Oh Lord. She folded the letter and shoved it into her desk, out of sight. She didn’t want drama from Richard; he seemed so sensible, so even-tempered. She’d had more than her fair share of volatile men, including one man who pursued her with excessive zeal even after she refused his advances. That one had been rather terrifying. Her brother George had had to speak to the man before he turned his attentions elsewhere.
She sighed. It was her own fault, she supposed, for carrying on with men like that. Leaving aside the husbands, she’d only had two lovers. Other widows, she knew, had had more, and many were far more public in their relationships.
But for all that she’d tried to be discreet, both affairs had gone spectacularly wrong. One man had been charming until he lost a considerable sum at a gaming hell. Then he began hinting, before suggesting, and finally demanding she pay his debts. She had refused, and he had grown threatening and angry, calling her ugly names and snarling that she deserved to be lonely.
The other man... Well, things had begun well, but Evangeline had broken it off when she discovered he’d got hisparlormaid with child and turned the poor girl out. They’d had a blazing argument; he’d been annoyed that she cared, and she’d been incensed that he didn’t.
After that, she had told herself she was done with all men... until Richard. There had been no one else since he walked out of Lord Allen’s ball with her, not even in the four years he’d been away and she’d had no thought at all of there being any future contact.
