Madame Hebert spoke in clipped tones. “I am sorry, Miss Kritikos. The fabric is no longer available.”

Nastasia gave Callie a frank appraisal, from head to toe. “Well, then, it appears you are making a habit of receiving those things that I desire, Lady Calpurnia.” She offered a small smile. “May you have better luck than I. That dress will certainly help.”

Callie dipped her head in acknowledgment of Nastasia’s words. “Thank you, Miss Kritikos. And, may I say, I think you are a brilliant talent.”

Nastasia stepped from her platform and sank into a deep, gracious curtsy, finally acknowledging Callie’s social position. “You are too kind, my lady.” With that, she and Valerie exited to a side dressing room, where Callie could only imagine there were other garments for Nastasia to consider. She watched the other woman leave, surprised and saddened by the direction of their conversation.

Returning her attention to the curious dressmaker, Callie offered her a small, watery smile. She knew what Madame Hebert was thinking. What could an opera singer and the sister of an earl possibly have to say to each other?

The modiste had been running her salon for too long to risk insulting her patrons with questions about their personal lives, however, and her business acumen forced her to turn her focus to Callie’s hem.

Madame Hebert adjusted the length of Callie’s skirt, then issued instructions to the young apprentice and left the room. The girl began to pin Callie’s dress in silence, and Callie played the conversation with Nastasia over in her mind. The singer’s words had been powerful; Callie had felt them like a blow. She had known the truth, of course, that Ralston would never be able to love her the way she desired, but hearing Nastasia’s story—sensing its truth—had intensified Callie’s sadness from earlier in the day.

She watched her reflection in the mirror as her tears blurred it. She could be as beautiful as the woman in the mirror every day, but it would not make Ralston love her. And, perhaps, if he were anyone else—someone whom she loved less, or not at all—she would have embraced his offer of marriage and accepted. But she had dreamed of being his for too long. He had quite ruined her for a marriage of convenience. She wanted everything from him: his mind, his body, his name and, most of all, his heart.

Perhaps refusing him had been a mistake. Perhaps she should have jumped at the opportunity to be his marchioness. To be the mother of his children. Callie’s heart clenched at the idea of little dark-haired, blue-eyed babies clinging to her skirts. But it seemed that Nastasia was right. The worst misery would come not from being without him but being without all of him.

Callie heaved a little sigh, willing her morbid thoughts away for this moment, as she discovered this newer, lovelier version of herself. A burst of familiar laughter came from the front of the shop, and she forced herself to smile as Juliana and Mariana hurried through the curtain, stopping short at the sight of Callie.

“Oh, Callie…” Mariana said in a hushed, reverent voice. “You look beautiful.”

Callie dipped her head at the compliment, so uncommon. “No.”

Juliana nodded her head eagerly. “It is true. You are beautiful!”

Callie’s cheeks reddened. “Thank you.”

Mari walked a slow circle around her sister. “It’s a stunning gown, Callie…but there’s more…there’s something…” She paused, looking up into her sister’s big, brown eyes. “You feel beautiful, don’t you?”

The words brought a smile to Callie’s eyes. “I rather think I do, actually.”

Juliana laughed. “Brava! It is time you feel beautiful, Callie.” When Mariana nodded encouragingly, Juliana continued, “I have thought you were lovely from the beginning of our acquaintance, of course. But, now, with this dress…you must wear it to the ball. Dovete! You must.” Three nights hence marked the Salisbury Ball, when Juliana would make her official debut to the ton. The young woman clapped her hands, excitedly. “We shall have our coming out together! With new dresses! Although I cannot imagine that any of mine will be anything so beautiful as this one!”

Mariana nodded her agreement, and Callie looked from one girl to the other, overwhelmed. “Oh, I do not imagine this dress will be ready by the ball. It must be hemmed, and I’m certain that Madame Hebert has much more important customers than I.”

“If you need it for the ball, my lady, you shall have it for the ball.” The words came from the modiste, who had reentered the room to check on the progress of her assistant. “I shall hem it myself and have it delivered first thing in the morning on one condition.” She leaned in close to Callie, and said, “You must promise that you will dance every waltz.”

Callie smiled, shaking her head. “I am afraid that is not my decision to make, Madame.”

“Nonsense,” the dressmaker scoffed. “In this dress, you shall be leaving hearts in your wake. The men, they shall be chasing after you.”

Callie laughed at the unlikely image the words painted, only to discover that none of the other women found the idea remotely amusing. Her laughter died away, and Mariana spoke. “They shall, indeed!”

Juliana smiled a thoughtful smile, cocking her head as she took Callie in. “I agree. I cannot wait to see Gabriel’s response to this! You are a vision!”

Mariana looked to her friend and spoke matter-of-factly. “Oh, Ralston is a foregone conclusion, I’d venture to guess.”

Callie sputtered at the bold, inappropriate conversation, a blush flooding her cheeks. Were her feelings for Ralston that obvious? Had Juliana said anything to her brother?