“She looks beautiful. No one will outshine her. Should we get this one?”
Harriet nodded, smiling. “Yes. Please.”
“That takes care of one. Let’s try the other, and then you can look at other designs from Paris,” Mrs. Dubois said. Her dark-brown hair was pinned up in a bun at the back of her head. She dressed simply, and for comfort for all the hours she spent on her feet. “In fact, while you’re changing I’ll go get the drawings and have some tea brought.”
“Thank you,” Harriet replied lowly.
When she stepped into the pale-pink gown all Harriet could do was stare at herself. How could her mother not have known what colors flattered her? Her dressmaker did her a huge disservice by not advising her mother to the correct shades.
That was part of her past now, and she would not be going back there ever again. The upcoming season was going to be her best and most successful. She just needed to overcome her shyness. She didn’t need to become the most talkative among her peers; she just needed to be able to contribute to conversations, not stand around like a mute person. Men wanted a woman they could carry on a conversation with, and Harriet wanted a man who didn’t treat her as though she didn’t have a brain.
She was roused from her daydream by Daphne. “Are you ready to go? Mrs. DuBois will have the gowns ready for a fitting next week.”
The modiste was across the room going over fabric with a striking young woman with hair that reminded Harriet of sunshine. Her gaze moved back to Daphne. “Yes, I think so.”
“Excellent. I thought if you’d like we could stop at Gunther’s and have tea and an ice.”
“That would be wonderful. I’ve never been but have always wanted to go.”
Just as Daphne was about to reply to Harriet, Mrs. DuBois came across the room to where they were standing.
“I will see you both next week.”
“I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Harriet said.
The modiste noticed the packages Daphne and she were carrying. Daphne had picked up some undergarments and included Harriet to pick up some. “Let Eloise take these to your footman.”
Harriet wasn’t sure, but when Daphne gave in and handed both of these packages to the young lady, she knew not to argue with Mrs. DuBois. The lady’s customers were quite important to her and she wanted them to have the best experience when they visited her shop.
Gunther’s wasn’t that far a ride through the streets of London. They probably could have walked, but the weather looked intimidating, as a storm lingered nearby.
“Do you think we’ll have to wait long for a table?” Harriet asked as the carriage pulled up outside the shop.
“I shall have a footman find out,” Daphne replied.
When he came back and told Daphne there were a couple of tables open, the two women exited the carriage and walked right in. They were immediately escorted to a table that was off to one side out of the path of people. It would not only give themsome privacy but also would allow them to carry on conversation without having to speak loudly.
“What do you recommend?” Harriet asked, glancing around the room at other diners.
“I was thinking a pot of tea with one of their variety plates. Once we finish that, we’ll each try an ice.”
“I hear their lavender ice is wonderful.”
“It is. Arthur brought me here before we were married and that was what I got. It was divine.”
Harriet smiled. “Why don’t we each get a different flavor so we can both try them?”
“Excellent idea, Harriet!”
Daphne ordered for them both while Harriet looked outside a nearby window. The black clouds were slowly moving over them. She imagined soon the rain would come and it would be heavy. She turned her attention back to Daphne only to find her watching her.
“We’re in for a storm,” Harriet announced.
“Yes, we are, and by the look of those clouds a bad one.”
“I can’t believe we were at the modiste for three hours. We were lucky to leave before the storm sets in.”
“I was surprised we weren’t in there longer with all the dresses she’s going to have to make,” Daphne replied.
