Page 34 of Taken By the Duke of Stone

"I am not asking for your permission, Lavinia," she sniffed, "Get dressed, I'll have the footmen get the carriage ready."

With that, she whirled around and left, leaving Lavinia feeling both immensely grateful and guilty. She decided that she would swallow her pride and accept her aunt's generous offer, but she would pay her back every dime as soon as she became the duchess and got some pin money or stipend.

With her mind made up about that, she changed into a striped blue and grey dress, tied on her bonnet and left the house.

The carriage stopped at one of the cheaper dressmaker's shops and they alighted.

"I'm thinking one or two ball gowns and day dresses, a new glove perhaps," Lady Hartfield nodded, "We can add a-"

"Lady Hartfield, Miss Proctor," someone called.

The women turned to see the dowager duchess of Wyld standing at the end of the street, her lips pursed.

They exchanged a glance before moving towards her.

"Your Grace," they curtsied.

"I saw you headed toward that shop," the words were spat out of her mouth with mild disdain, "That will not do, Miss Proctor, unless you plan on completely embarrassing my son. What would people think if they walked in there and saw you rifling through cheap fabric and plain designs."

Lavinia exchanged another glance with her aunt, "I'm afraid, Your Grace, that that is all we can afford."

"For someone whom thetonhas dubbed a fortune hunter, you are rather terrible at being one," the dowager duchess said,causing Lavinia's eyes to go comically wide, "Come along now, I booked the day with Madame Vandeleur and it's a good thing I did too."

They watched the woman walk away, head held high and spine straight as a ruler.

"Unless you plan on disobeying a direct order from your soon to be mother-in-law, let's go," Lady Hartfield said.

Shaking her head, she followed after her aunt.

The interior of the modiste shop looked like no other shop she had been in. It was very obvious that the place catered to people with much deeper pockets. The dowager Duchess had the position and money to not just shop at will from Madame Vandeleur, she could also book the shop for the whole day to avoid dealing with other people.

Madame Vandeleur was a very slender, pale woman with onyx dark hair tied into a severe bun at the base of her neck.

"This is Lady Hartfield and her niece, Miss Proctor," the dowager duchess announced as they stepped in, "Miss Proctor is to be married to my son."

Lavinia winced at the dowager duchess's tone that clearly implied what she thought about the match. Apparently, she didn't think much of it. At her side, her aunt stiffened and then squeezed her hand in support.

"Welcome," the modiste said in a deep French accent, "What would you like to get today?"

Lavinia opened her mouth to reply, but the dowager duchess beat her to it, "Three ball gowns, day dresses, riding garb and gloves."

At the younger woman's gaping look, she rolled her eyes, "Consider it an advance on your pin money. And if things do not work out between the both of you, then consider it a gift."

Lavinia shifted her shocked stare to the Frenchwoman who stood off to the side, nonplussed by the conversation.

The dowager waved her hand, "Do not worry about her. She's discreet."

"Well in that case," Lady Hartfield took her niece's hand, "I believe we will be leaving and you shall have to find some other people to belittle."

"Belittle? On the contrary, Lady Hartfield, what I'm doing is speaking my mind. So I shall be quite blunt with you, several people saw us walk in here together, if you insist on walking into that other shop, you may either ruin Madame Vandeleur's business or cause them to speculate that we are not on the good standing we have managed to convince them we are on."

"Take a seat, please," the modiste motioned to the sofa at the side.

The dowager's eyes narrowed at them, waiting to see what they would do. Lavinia knew she was right and it didn't matter that her opinion of them or rather her was poor, they couldn't afford to put the match between her and the Duke into more public scrutiny, especially as they had been doing so well in the public eye.

She gently urged her aunt into the seat.

Madame Vandeleur's assistants appeared one by one with bolts of fabric held out on their outstretched hands. With her aunt's help, she chose a few fabrics in pastel colors.

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