“Oh please, you are stunning too.” But Mary had to admit that looking at those three women of rank and beauty—they were breathtaking. Lady Levermarch was blond, the other two dark.
“They are natured similar also,” Beth added. “Gabe said society is not ready for the three of them and their vicious tongues to be friends, however, he fears there is little he can do about it, as like-minded people tend to find each other eventually.”
Mary laughed.
“Come, let us explore trimmings and fabrics,” Beth said, taking Mary’s arm.
“Hello, Mary,” Lady Levermarch said as they approached her, Dimity, and the Duchess of Raven. “I hear that finally I can get my hands on you.”
“Phoebe.” The duchess sighed. “You at least need to try to pretend you don’t own this place. It really isn’t done, you know.”
“Oops,” Lady Levermarch said with no remorse. “Now, I have plans for you, my dear.”
“My mother said a single dress, my lady,” Mary said.
“Oh posh to that,” Dimity said. “Don’t worry about anything. Gabe and I will take care of it.”
“You will not,” Mary said, horrified. “My father will—”
“Yes, yes, no need to worry, Mary,” the duchess said. “Now, this is Phoebe, I am Eden, and we don’t stand on ceremony in here.”
“You would think she was the owner the way she carries on,” Phoebe said. The duchess simply smiled.
“Come along, we need to remove that offensive garment at once,” Phoebe said, taking Mary by the arm.
She was stripped and then draped in fabrics. The curtain was thrown open, and she faced Eden, Dimity, Beth, Freya, and Ruby while Phoebe made suggestions. Mary should’ve really been horrified at being exposed in such a way. No one usually saw her in her chemise. What she was, however, was excited.
“Excellent, we have what we need, and I will get those gowns made up for you,” Phoebe said, picking up her dress.
“Where are you going with that? I need to put it back on,” Mary said.
“You will never wear such a revolting fashion disaster as long as there is air in my lungs,” Phoebe said dramatically. Mary could see why she and Dimity were friends. The countess spoke in exactly that manner often.
“But, Phoebe, I cannot wander the streets of London in my chemise. I am not someone people notice, but still—”
“Mary, the first step toward being the person you want to be, if you want to be noticed that is, must be changing the way you think of yourself.”
“I know what I am, Phoebe,” Mary said. Standing here with one of the most beautiful women she’d ever met made her feel like a stalk of cow parsley.
Phoebe dropped Mary’s dress to the floor and then gripped her shoulders. “You are beautiful and have a magnificent body. I would give my husband away for your breasts alone.”
“Phoebe!” Mary giggled.
“It’s true. You are quite stunning, Mary. You’ve just been hiding due to your mother’s complete lack of fashion sense,” Eden said, joining the conversation by wedging herself into the small fitting room.
“We have great plans for her and Zach,” Dimity said over her shoulder as she could not manage to squeeze in also.
“Dimity, that will do!” Mary said, desperate for this conversation not to continue.
“I have often wondered about you and Zachariel, Mary,” Eden said. “Warwick is quite convinced there is more to your animosity, and as he is Zachariel’s best friend, I’d say he’d know a thing or two about the man.”
“No,” Mary said. “There will never be anything between us, and I have no wish to continue this discussion.”
“She gets that line there”—Dimity reached over the duchess’s shoulder and jabbed her finger into Mary’s forehead—“when she’s annoyed.”
“Ouch!”
“Yes, well, enough said on that for now. We shall dress you befitting the stunning woman you are, and the rest will follow, or it won’t,” Phoebe said, nudging the others from the small space. “Now, I have some dresses put aside for just such an occasion as this. I will get one.”
