Page 41 of The Lyon Returns
Amelia’s genial smile and conspicuous silence said she quite agreed.
In a matter of minutes, Amelia bustled Gwen into her carriage, and off they went to Bond Street.
Throughout the drive, Lady Amelia explained how everything from the choice of a gown’s fabric, to its color, cut, and sleeve length made a statement, not to mention the time of day one wore a gown also played a role in which type one must choose.
“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, fascinated despite herself.
Amelia happily expounded. “There are round gowns for day wear, not to be confused with morning dresses, or walking dresses. There are evening gowns, ball gowns, and riding habits.”
“I knew about the riding habits,” Gwen assured her, hoping to allay any anxiety on Amelia’s part over having befriended a complete fashion dolt.
Amelia patted her hand. “Very good, dear. For best effect, the fabric of a woman’s gown must flow. Silk or finely woven muslin or lawn all work nicely, depending on the gown’s purpose.”
“And what of satin?” Gwen asked.
Amelia pursed her lips. “A silk satin works well for ball gowns and such. For day wear, never.”
She had known those gowns Reggie’s mother had chosen were inappropriate day dresses, despite her assertion to the contrary.Reggie will not want to let you out of his sight once he glimpses you in them.
In fact, Reggie had not seemed overly impressed by the low-cut, overly embellished, form-fitting dresses. Quite the opposite, if his arched brows and pinched lips were anything to go by after she modeled the first, though he’d done his best to cover. Reggie would not have wanted to hurt her feelings, or his mother’s, who had insisted on their shopping expedition.
His friend—and hers for a time, Mr. Landry—had very much enjoyed seeing her in them. She shook off the unpleasant memory as Amelia went on.
“All gowns should fall in an elegant drape, from the bodice down,” Amelia explained, with a sweep of her gloved hand. “As for the bodice, it must be wide and low, especially an evening gown.”
Here Amelia paused to eye Gwen’s current attire. Her expression said she did not care for the gray, high-necked, unadorned day dress any more than Gideon had. “Gwen, dear, do you actuallylikethis shade of gray?”
Gwen plucked at her skirts, feeling like a girl being tutored by her older sister in the ways of the world. “Not particularly. Why do you ask?”
Amelia smiled across the divide, her expression gentle. “Three of the last four times I’ve seen you, you’ve worn a gown in this exact shade. I would have thought it the same dress, save for the differing lengths of sleeves.”
Gwen smoothed her skirts. “I fear I do have several in this shade.”
“I see. Are you, perhaps, wearing the staid styles for a purpose? Say, because you feel you must?”
“I don’t follow.”
“If you are dressing for mourning, I must point out—”
“Oh, that. I’m not.” She bit her lip. “I chose this particular style because…” She broke off, neither wanting to lie, nor to discuss the unfortunate incident that precipitated the change in style.
She opted to share a truth, if not the whole truth. “For the last several years, aside from a period of deep mourning, I spent the bulk of my time working with my father. I didn’t see the need to purchase new gowns for which I had no use.”
“You must have loved your husband very much,” she said gently.
For the second time that day, Gwen’s eyes stung. She nodded.
Amelia sent Gwen a brilliant smile. “You are very brave, starting anew, Gwen.”
With effort, Gwen pulled her mouth into an answering grin. “It helps to have friends. I haven’t had many, you know. Little Giddingford is vast, but sparsely populated. Reggie’s family owned most of the land. My parents purchased the only other manor house in the vicinity. As he and I were both only children, we had just each other for company much of the time.”
Amelia reached for her hand and squeezed. “I understand more than you can imagine. I, too, treasure the friendships I’ve made at the Ladies’ Literary Society.”
After a moment, Amelia released her hand and glanced out the small window. “Now then, as we are almost arrived at Madame Eloise’s shop, let us discuss your most pressing need. For a meeting with the Duke of Ashwood, we must dress you to the nines. We’ll need a gown, slippers, and something to showcase your lovely hair.”
Gwen flushed. “All that?”
“Would I tell you how to edit a manuscript, madam? Fashion is one of my fortés.”
