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As the modiste pointed out potential dresses, she suggested, “Since Your Grace does not have a specific style preference in mind, you can simply peruse and see if you can find a gown you like. If there are any issues, I will alter it to suit your taste,”.

“That sounds wonderful,” Juliet said in relief, already feeling a little overwhelmed by the process.

Before she’d passed, her mother loved buying Juliet dresses. She’d possessed a remarkable sense of style and had a sophisticated taste. There had been no need for such finery in the nunnery. Most of the girls had learned to sew clothing for themselves and for others. Juliet was thus unsure what suited her taste.

The modiste left her to her devices, and she began to explore the shop’s dresses, fascinated by some colors and styles and horrified by others.

She was still browsing and paid no attention as the store’s bell jingled softly, signaling the arrival of a new customer, until someone ran up to her and embraced her.

“Juliet!”

Juliet jumped then smiled as she looked down and saw her half-sister.

“Isabella,” the Duchess grinned, happy to see the younger girl again. “What a lovely surprise! How are you?”

“I am well, and so are my brothers. We have missed you. I have been asking Mama if we can visit you, but she says we are not to disturb newlyweds.” The girl pouted.

“I would not have minded. We will be staying in London for a little while, so you are welcome to visit any time you wish,” Juliet told her earnestly, unable to keep herself from smiling when the girl beamed.

“Isabella, I’ve told you not to…oh,” Dinah paused as she saw Juliet. “Juliet! What brings you here? Or would you prefer ‘Your Grace’?”

Juliet did not appreciate the sneer in her tone and wanted to put this woman in her place.

“Your Grace is fine. It is important to maintain one’s manners in public, especially in front of children as they are so impressionable. You would not wish to accidentally teach them rude habits,” Juliet spoke sweetly.

Dinah was clearly unhappy with what she heard.

“Of course, Your Grace,” she said with a mock bow.

Juliet ignored her and picked a few dresses that had caught her eye, leaving to address the modiste.

“Is it all right if I try these ones on?”

“Of course,” Francesca nodded, gesturing to a door to her left. “The dressing room is behind that door.”

“Thank you,” Juliet said politely, waving over Leila who had been lingering at the front of the store. “I will only be a moment.”

“Take as much time as you wish, Your Grace.” The modiste smiled kindly.

Juliet went into the dressing room with Leila, enlisting her maid’s help to remove her dress and try on the new ones.

Although some of the dresses did not seem quite right, she did like one made of a deep emerald green chiffon, but it felt like she liked the color and material more than the dress itself.

“You truly are the spitting image of your mother,” Dinah stated suddenly from her left. “Although it has been years since her passing, I still remember her clearly, and you are growing to look more like her every day.”

Something about the tone of Dinah’s voice disconcerted Juliet. She did not dignify Dinah’s comment with a response.

Isabella, ever curious and well-meaning, asked, “Did you know Juliet’s mother, Mama?”

“I did,” Dinah nodded.

“Were you friends?”

“Oh, heavens, no,” Dinah gasped as though her daughter had asked her to confess to a grave sin. “We were not close, but I did know her…because of how…sick she was. Everyone knew about it.”

Juliet gritted her teeth and forced herself to decide if she liked how the dress sleeves fell or if they made her want to rip them off, rather than addressing how Dinah was speaking about her mother.

“She was ill? How?” Isabella asked, blinking up at her mother with a frown.