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.
“She must be at the opera on Wednesday, Callie,” Mariana repeated, then said to Juliana, “You will come with us, of course.”
Of course, Mariana was right. Wednesday was opening night at the Theatre Royal and the perfect event at which to launch Juliana into society. She would be introduced as delicately as possible, only having to interact with the ton before and after the opera, and during its intermission.
Callie nodded her agreement. “Wednesday is, of course, the perfect day.”
The modiste, who had remained quiet through the conversation, finally spoke. “It is Monday, my ladies. I can finish the gown for Wednesday, but not without having my girls work through the night.” The meaning was clear.
Callie smiled. Ralston had put her in charge. And he had said money was no object. “Her brother is the Marquess of Ralston. I am certain he will approve the charge.”
Madame Hebert did not press the issue and sharply ordered two of her girls to begin the dress immediately.
Once outside, the trio began a whirlwind tour of the shops of Bond Street and beyond. After visiting the milliner, they made their way down a small, narrow street, and Juliana stopped to gaze through a bookshop window. Turning back to her companions, she said, “Would you mind terribly if we went in? I should like to purchase something for my brothers. To thank them for their kindness.”