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Honoria expected Lady Somerville to protest, but she just grumbled something under her breath, then smiled at Elise and caressed her cheek. “You pick out whatever you like, my dear.”

“Perhaps you’d like to see how those colors would look on you, Miss?” Madame Deville interjected.

“Yes, I’d like that.” Elise stood, and the modiste led her toward the back of the room, helping her up to the short pedestal before two mirrors.

“I will place a few fabrics on you, and you can tell me if you like the fabric or the color. If not, we move on, yes?”

“Yes, thank you.” Elise glanced back at her great-aunt and Honoria with a brilliant smile.

They watched as the modiste draped fabric after fabric over Elise, then showed her the fashion plates for comparison.

“This one is lovely,” Elise said as pale blue silk was pinned around her slender frame. Then she turned toward her great-aunt. “Don’t you agree?”

Lady Somerville tapped her cane against the polished floor. “The color is too insipid. She needs something with more character. Perhaps pastel green instead?”

Madame Deville nodded deferentially. “An excellent choice, my lady. The green would indeed complement Lady Elise’s coloring beautifully.”

Honoria cleared her throat. “If I might suggest, we try both. Elise will need more than one gown. Perhaps the pale blue will be for a calm walk in the park or a jaunt to a museum, while the pastel green would be perfect for the theater.” Lady Somerville’s sharp gaze swung to Honoria, a peculiar expression crossing her features. It was most likely the surprise of someone who was rarely contradicted. Honoria hastened to add, “However, if you think that the pale blue is still too dull, we can add a golden ribbon to line the edges, can we not? Or a lighter, shimmering blue gauze just like in that first fashion plate you set aside.”

“Fabulous, just fabulous!” Madame Deville hurried away to fetch the fabric.

“You have a surprisingly refined eye for fashion, Miss Hart,” Lady Somerville observed. “Unusual in a housekeeper.”

Honoria felt her cheeks warm. “Have you not talked to Mrs. Clarke then?” she said lightly. “Because she has a far superior eye for fashion than I.”

“Hm.” The marchioness let out a sniff. “If all housekeepers are like this, perhaps I should socialize with mine more. I might have been missing out on great fashion advice.”

“Well?” Madame Deville took Elise by her hand and twirled her around to showcase the fabrics pinned to her form, mimicking the beautiful gown it would one day become.

It was beautiful. She was beautiful. The colors, the design, all wonderful on their own were made better by the brilliant shine in Elise’s eyes.

“Gorgeous!” Lady Somerville exclaimed, a quizzing glass held to her eye. “It suits you rather well, my dear.”

Elise turned her questioning gaze toward Honoria, and she couldn’t help but smile. “You look beautiful.”

“C’est magnifique!” the modiste exclaimed, bustling around Elise once more. “One dress decided, a dozen more to go.”

“You seem to care a lot about the children,” Lady Somerville noted.

“Of course.” Honoria’s reply was immediate. She was almost offended it needed to be said at all.

“And the earl? Do you care about him as well?”

Honoria made a concentrated effort not to react to the strange question. “Of course. He is my employer.”

A pause. “Do you know why I insisted on Caldwell joining the ton now rather than later?” the dowager asked.

Honoria raised her eyes, searching the marchioness’s face, but finding no answers there. “Yes. His lordship said that your granddaughter is in a delicate condition, and you want to join her in Florence before her confinement. It must be very moving for you, becoming a great-grandmother.”

“Yes, yes, indeed it is,” Lady Somerville said, looking thoroughly pleased, like a cat who had gotten the cream.

“And you want to help him be reintroduced into society and reestablish social connections prior to Elise’s debut.”

“Pshaw!” Lady Somerville rolled her eyes a little bit. “He is an earl. He has powerful friends. He doesn’t need to reestablish a thing.”

Honoria frowned. “Then why did you insist that he return?” What was this for? Honoria wanted to shout. Yanking us away from the security and stability of our country home, bringing us—me—face-to-face with the society I am trying my best to avoid. For what?

“No. I did it because I want to see my nephew wed.”