Page 42 of Claimed By the Beastly Duke

“No. There is simply no love between us,” Ava countered.

“Or you are afraid to let yourself fall in love with him,” Lily added.

Ava felt a pang in her heart as she ruminated over her friend’s words.

What if Lily was right? What if she was doing everything she possibly could to push Edwin away because she knew she might fall in love with him if she let him get too close?

However, she did not quite have the time to truly think about it because the carriage driver chose that moment to open the door and help them down.

Her arrival was nothing short of a spectacle, as passersby all stopped to watch her. This was quite strange to Ava. After all, this was not her first visit to the modiste.

“Do not look so confused. You are a duchess now, after all,” Lily reminded her.

It was then that Ava finally grasped the meaning.

When she used to visit the modiste as the unmarried daughter of a viscount, she often arrived in a simple dress that reflected her station.

Now, however, she seemed to court attention in her elegant dress and parasol.

“I am not sure I enjoy the attention that comes with this,” she whispered to her friend.

Soon enough, they stepped into the modiste’s shop, and the familiar pleasant scent of silk and cherry tickled her senses.

“It is a pleasure to have you with us, Your Grace, Lady Lily,” the modiste, a robust woman with a kind face, greeted.

They were ushered deeper into the shop, and they were soon sifting through fabrics while assistants waited on them.

“Your Grace, you will find this fabric most pleasing,” the modiste said, handing her the most beautiful bolt of fabric she had ever seen.

It was most delicate—and almost transparent. And yet it was finely woven and embroidered.

“Lily, you must see this.” Ava held up the fabric for her friend.

“That is the famous Dhaka muslin,” Lily gasped. “Youhaveto buy it. It is by far more expensive than other muslins, but you will simply be the cynosure of all eyes if you buy it.”

“Lady Lily is right,” the modiste chimed in. “Only a handful of ladies in London have gotten their hands on it, since it is quite pricey. In fact, the Queen herself was rumored to wear it on her visit to Italy.”

“Now, you must buy it, Ava,” Lily insisted.

Ava did not need convincing. She loved the fabric, and yet she could not bring herself to buy it.

“What is the problem, Ava? Would you rather see another lady wear it for the masquerade ball?” Lily asked.

“It’s just so pricey,” Ava mumbled.

“Then you must get used to it—starting from now,” Lily urged. “Your husband is a duke and a wealthy businessman. I am certain he would rather his wife be dressed in the most expensive fabrics than cheap ones.”

Ava nodded as she considered her friend’s words. She knew that one of the reasons Edwin had taken a wife was to advance his business interests. Therefore, she had to do everything she could to represent him well, and if that required that she wear the most expensive dress at the ball, then so be it.

“And you must remember, this is your first ball since you got married. You must make an appearance,” Lily continued.

Not long after, Ava had chosen a dress with puffed sleeves and ruffles at the neck—her favorite style. Then, she stepped into a changing cabin for fittings and measurements.

The modiste fussed over her as she pinned and adjusted the dress. “You will be the belle of the ball, Your Grace,” she gushed.

“I certainly hope so.”

“The Marquess of Dorset has insisted on this fabric for his sister’s dress, but I shall ensure that yours is far more exquisite,” the modiste said as she took her measurements.

---