“He's a good man,” Cassandra reminded her. “You must not forget that.”
The door opened, halting their conversation. Mary's mother stepped into the room and waved a card vigorously about. “We've been invited to dine at Camberly House tomorrow evening. Goodness, Mary. Can you believe it?” Her enthusiasm poured from every pore. “We are to be admitted into one of the finest homes in London. Oh, we must consider what to wear.” She shifted her gaze to Cassandra and Emily. “You are to come as well. It is all so exciting.”
“Would it be terribly wrong to liken your mother to a bee who buzzes in with a flutter and leaves before we've had time to adjust?” Emily asked as soon as the door closed behind Mrs. Clemens.
Mary laughed. “Not at all. I rather think the description suits her.”
“She is right to be thrilled on your family's behalf though,” Cassandra said. “The duke and his mother have officially accepted you and your parents as social equals.” She pursed her lips and shrank back a little in her seat. “Not to sound high in the instep, but for a tradesman and his wife, that is something of a coup.”
“I am aware,” Mary said. “The gossips will accuse them of being social climbing imposters. They will say the same about me, just as they did five years ago.”
“Or,” Emily interjected, “they might say nothing. After all, your sister did marry a baron, so one would think thetonhas accustomed itself to your family joining its ranks by now.”
Mary blinked. She'd been gone so long she forgot how everything had changed during her absence. Sarah had told her how difficult it had been the first weeks after her wedding, but then something else had happened to draw attention, and her marriage to Huntingham had become a footnote in that year's noteworthy events.
“I need something appropriate to wear.” For even if she and Caleb intended to live a simple life in a cottage, he was still a duke which meant that if she wished to marry him, she'd best start playing the part of the duchess.
“You must have something here, from before you left,” Emily suggested.
“There are a few gowns,” Mary said. “Mama had most of them refashioned to fit my sisters, but I’m sure I can find something suitable for all of us to wear tomorrow evening.”
“Don't forget,” Cassandra said, “it is not just the dinner but also the Christmas ball at your sister's home on Saturday.”
Mary gaped at her. She'd been so caught up in Caleb's courtship she'd completely forgotten to think of what to wear to the ball. Living in the country as she had, evening gowns had been the furthest thing from her mind. She had the one she always wore to fancier things like a dance at the assembly room, but she'd left that behind at Clearview.
“I cannot believe my mother neglected to mention that,” Mary remarked while going over her gowns in her mind. It did not make for uplifting contemplation. “What are the two of you intending to wear?”
Mary knew neither one had informed their families of their visit to Town. Emily insisted hers would be away until Parliament resumed in the spring, while Cassandra claimed she had no desire to see the people who'd once turned their back on her.
“We were actually planning a last minute excursion to the modiste shop once Peter and Penelope have decided which books they would like to borrow.”
“This one looks interesting,” Peter said, producing a volume with marvelous pictures of ships, drawn in stunning detail. Penelope, by contrast, picked a book about gardening because she liked the colorful illustrations of flowers.
Carrying their finds with them, they were taken upstairs to join Eliot, Bridget, and Daphne who were playing in the same nursery Mary had used when she was a child. It had since been turned into a private sitting room for her mother, but a few quick changes had made it appropriate for children once more.
“Shall we be off?” Cassandra asked when they’d ensured that the children would all be well looked after by one of the maids during their absence.
“Yes,” Emily said. “I have always loved shopping but was never permitted to choose the fabrics I wanted. This will be such a treat!”
Sympathizing, Mary followed her friend down the stairs. Although she’d been chased away from Society after her brief romance with Wrenwick, she’d had a happy life until then. The same could not be said about Emily, whose parents had been incredibly strict and demanding. Since her mother had been of the opinion that men fancied plump figures, she had fed her daughter continuously. Unfortunately, Mrs. Howard had also believed that orange and yellow would make her daughter stand out and had refused to let her wear anything else. The combined result of overeating and wearing unflattering gowns had been disastrous. So it was understandable why she was now eager to decide what she would wear to the Christmas ball.
“This is perfect for you, Mary,” Cassandra said when they stood in the shop and had spent a few minutes looking at muslins and silks. She had pulled out a shimmering emerald green satin and was holding it up to Mary’s face. “It really brings out your eyes.”
“You don’t think the color too bright?” Mary asked, allowing her fingers to slide across the slippery fabric.
“Not at all. You are a grown woman, remember? No one can fault you for dressing the part,” Cassandra assured her. Moving on to a red color, she asked her friends, “Is this too risqué.”
“Maybe,” Emily hedged, “although you are the scandalous mother of a girl born out of wedlock, so I am sure no one would be surprised to see you wear it. And it is a pretty color.”
“It really is,” Mary agreed. “It compliments your complexion immensely.”
“Then red it is,” Cassandra said with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I would hate to disappoint the gossips.”
“Oh, you mustn’t do that,” Emily said with a wide smile. She’d selected a turquoise blue silk for herself which went well with her dark brown hair. “Not when I have every intention of making them gape.”
Mary believed her friend would succeed very well in that regard. She’d lost so much weight since arriving at Clearview it would be difficult for people to recognize her. And with Emily’s new shapely figure dressed in the right kind of gown, Mary could not wait to see the shocked looks on the faces of all the men who’d lost their chance with her.
“Idon’t thinkI can continue with this,” Caleb told Griffin while the pair enjoyed a brandy in his study. Their mother would be down soon, and then the guests would arrive.
