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Juliet smiled, feeling a sense of belonging she hadn’t expected to find. “Perhaps we can, Thomas. Perhaps we can.”

“Isn’t it lovely?” Isabella’s voice rang out as she entered the room, her eyes widening at Juliet standing before the mirror in a stunning white dress.

Juliet turned slightly and smiled at her half-sister. “Do you really think so?”

The modiste, a petite woman with a keen eye for detail, clucked her tongue approvingly. “Indeed, Lady Isabella. Your sister has exquisite taste. This gown beautifully accentuates her natural grace.”

Isabella nodded eagerly. “Yes, it is exquisite, Juliet. You look like a fairy tale princess.”

Young Isabella carefully ran her fingers along the fabric as Juliet giggled. “Thank you. I must admit, I do like it very much as well.”

Just then, the door creaked open, and the Countess entered.

Her brows were up with their usual air of superiority. She cast a critical eye over Juliet as she pursed her lips.

“The gown would be perfect if she had more flesh on her bones. Don’t you think so?” She turned to the modiste.

The modiste couldn’t find a reasonable response for the Lady. Instead, she focused on adjusting a flap on the gown.

Juliet’s smile faltered, but she held her composure. Like the modiste, she chose to ignore the rude comment. She focused on her reflection in the mirror, appreciating how the fabric draped elegantly over her curves. In truth, she wondered how she’d managed to fill out the dress so perfectly.

The fabric felt snug in all the right places, clinging to her body in a way that accentuated the curves she had never been keenly aware of before.

“Your mother was quite thin as well. Your father told me how much he worried for her and her health…even before her unfortunate demise,” Dinah added when it became obviousJuliet did not intend to respond. Juliet’s gaze wandered around the shop as though she was looking for something to pique her interest. “It is truly a shame that she could not bear witness to your marriage. If only she had not been so ill…”

“It is unfair to speak about my mother as though you knew her,” Juliet snapped, her heart beating tightly within a flurry of confused emotion. “She…she was beautiful. I had always thought she was beautiful, both inside and out, up until her very last moments.”

Dinah seemed surprised by Juliet’s cold response and wisely decided to move away wordlessly. As the modiste tried to show her some fabrics she might like, she wrinkled her nose haughtily.

Juliet stared at her reflection in the mirror, willing herself not to be consumed by the anger and hurt she felt brewing within her. She had suspected that the Countess did not like her, but she had never imagined that the woman would stoop so low as to dishonor someone who had long since passed.

Her heartless words reminded Juliet of one of the reasons why she had been so hesitant to return to London.

There was nothing left for her in London but grief. The pain of loss which had haunted her for a long time after her mother died. The pain of abandonment which still echoed in her very being when she recalled the callous way in which her father had left her at the nunnery. The pain of betrayal when he’d reappeared in her life eleven years later, only to pawn her off into a business deal driven marriage.

Even when she had resolved to be civil, others were still intent on getting under her skin and hurting her.

“I think you look very pretty,” Isabella said, still running her hands over the gown with an awestruck expression.

Dinah tutted in disapproval from where she stood. “What would a mere child know?”

“Beautiful, I must say.” Lord Campton walked into the dressing room, admiring his daughter.

“Father agrees as well!” Isabella cheered with childlike innocence.

The Countess flashed a warning glare at her daughter. “Never mind, my Moon. What brings you here?”

Algernon cleared his throat. “Ladies, if you would give us a moment, I need to speak with Juliet alone.”

The modiste quickly gathered her tools and curtsied, exiting the room with a promise to return later. Dinah followed suit with a final disparaging glance at her husband, dragging along a reluctant Isabella as she left the room.

Once the door had been closed, Algernon motioned towards the long settee. “You will be a lovely bride.”

Juliet took a seat at the far end, making it obvious that she held no desire to be close to her father. He cleared his throat nervously once he’d realized she was not going to speak.

“I…I am sorry. I know this is difficult for you, but it is in everyone’s best interests.” Algernon said.

Juliet remained silent, her eyes fixed on the floor. She was in no mood for another argument, but the lingering resentment she felt for her father chewed at her from the inside out.