Turning to the modiste, Callie spoke up, “Spencers, pelisses, cloaks, and shawls to go with everything, as necessary…and she’ll need undergarments for all, of course. And night rails.”

Juliana spoke for the first time. “I do not see why I need new night rails. Mine are perfectly acceptable.”

“You need them because your brother is willing to buy them for you,” Mariana pointed out, matter-of-factly. “Why not have them?”

Juliana looked to Callie. “It is too much. I am only here for seven weeks.”

Callie shook her head sympathetically, immediately understanding the younger woman’s discomfort. She had barely met Ralston, and now she was ordering a fortune in clothing on his account. Callie moved closer to Juliana, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. Softly, so no one but Juliana could hear, Callie said, “He wants to do this for you. It was his idea. I know it seems too extravagant…” She met the young woman’s clear, worried gaze. “Let him play the elder brother today.”

After a moment, Juliana gave a little nod. “Bene. However, I should like the dresses to be in a more…Italian style.”

Madame Hebert overheard from her place nearby and scoffed, “You think I would take a wild lily and trim it to appear an English rose? You shall meet the ton as a bright Italian star.”

Callie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Capital. Shall we choose some fabrics?”

The words sent the cluster of women around them into a flurry, rolling out yards of muslins and satins, jaconet and crepe, velvet and gros de Naples in every imaginable color and pattern.

“Which do you like?” Callie asked.

Juliana turned her attention to the pile of fabrics, a bemused smile on her face. Mariana approached and locked their arms together. Leaning close, she said, “I adore that mulberry crepe. It would go beautifully with your hair.” Turning to Callie she said, “And you, sister?”

Callie cocked her head in the direction of a willow green satin, and said, “If you don’t leave here with an evening dress in that satin, I shall be very disappointed.”

Juliana laughed. “Well, then I shall have to have it! And I do like that rose muslin.”

Madame Hebert lifted the bolt and passed it to a seamstress. “Excellent choice, signorina. May I suggest the gold satin as well? For evening, of course.”

Mariana squeezed Juliana’s arm, and said brightly, “This is fun, isn’t it?” sending Juliana, nodding, into a fit of laughter. Ralston’s sister warmed quickly to the process, and within an hour she had selected colors and fabrics for all of her gowns. She and Mariana were taking tea and discussing hems and waists as Callie found herself fingering an aethereal blue satin that had caught her eye several times since she entered the shop. For the first time in a very long time, Callie was drawn to the idea of having a gown made. For herself.

“The fabric, it has been calling to you, non?” The deeply accented words of the modiste drew Callie from her thoughts. “It would make a beautiful gown. For your next ball. This satin, it is made for waltzing.”

“It is gorgeous!” Mariana had materialized beside her as the dressmaker had spoken.

“Indeed! You must have it!” Juliana added.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Thank you, but I have no need of a gown like that.”

Madame Hebert’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You do not attend the balls?”

“Oh, I do…” Callie struggled for the words. “But I do not dance.”

“Perhaps you do not have the right gown, my lady. May I say…if I were to design you a gown of that fabric, you would most certainly dance.” Throwing an excess of the fabric out onto her table, the Frenchwoman worked several moments, pleating and folding. Stepping back, she allowed Callie a look at her work, which barely hinted at being a gown. It was gorgeous.

“We shall lower the line of the neck to show you off, the waist as well. You hide yourself among these flounces and frill—like so many other Englishwomen,” Madame Hebert spat the last words out as if they had a foul taste. “You need the French design. The French, they celebrate the woman’s shape!”

Callie blushed at the dressmaker’s bold speech, but she was tempted by it, nonetheless. Meeting the little Frenchwoman’s gaze, she said, “All right. Yes.”

Mariana and Juliana let out little exclamations of delight.

Madame Hebert nodded, all business. “Valerie,” she said sharply, calling to her assistant, “take Lady Calpurnia’s measurements. She will have the aethereal blue satin. She will also need a cloak.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

The modiste did not look at Callie, instead pushing forward as though she hadn’t spoken. “The midnight satin. We shall line it with chinchilla. And then the aethereal comes off the shelf. The fabric belongs only to this lady.”

At the words, the girls around the shop tittered. Callie looked to Mariana in confusion. Her sister whispered, “Madame Hebert only removes fabric from sale when she constructs a gown without the help of her staff! Callie! How exciting!”

Callie swallowed audibly. What had she gotten herself into?

Madame Hebert turned back to Callie. “Three weeks.”

She nodded in understanding. “And Juliana’s?”

“The same. We shall send them to her as they are finished.”

“She will need the gold evening gown on Wednesday,” Mariana said, “for the opera.”

Juliana, who had been idly stroking a lavender muslin that was to become one of her new walking dresses, looked up in surprise.