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Catlike, Lady Ashbourne had smiled. “Why, I was just thinking that I would like to stop by Madame Claudette’s shop this afternoon. Shall you come with me, Miss Bingley? I can have my carriage take you to your brother’s house afterwards.”

Caroline was too thrilled to be acknowledged by the Viscountess Ashbourne, future Countess of Matlock (and everything she herself desired to be), to consider that she was being used. Had she done so, she probably would not have cared.

Lady Alameda made her farewells with practiced politeness, though she caught Mr. Darcy’s look of suspicion when he noticed Miss Bingley trailing in her wake like a desperately loyal poodle.

When they arrived at the modista’s, Alameda had done little more than prompt her faithful follower.

Miss Bingley was more than happy to repeat her attack on the Bennets, embroidering here and there so as to best please her audience.

When she began repeating herself, the Viscountess had cleared her throat slightly.

Meeting Madame Claudette’s eyes, Alameda did not bother to hide her amusement.

“As Miss Darcy shall be bringing the Miss Bennets to visit your establishment tomorrow, Miss Bingley thought that you might wish to know a bit about their background... so as to best judge what sort of fashions they will be most… comfortable in, of course.”

Claudette smiled. She might not particularly like Lady Ashbourne, but one had to respect her skill.

Should any gossip made its way back to the Darcys, Fitzwilliams, or Bennets, it would be blamed upon Caroline’s loose tongue.

With a wink at the Viscountess, she turned toward the younger woman.

“Thank you, Miss Bingley; I have some fabrics and patterns that I believe shall suit these ladies perfectly.”

As a result, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was standing in Madame Claudette’s shop, watching the Frenchwoman override Jane’s timid demurrals with a loud voice and commanding attitude.

The sisters had been pleased to accept Georgiana’s eager offer to introduce them to her own modista.

Now, however, that pleasure was quickly evaporating while she watched poor Jane being pressed to accept a pattern that revealed far too much skin for comfort and an expensive, embroidered brocade which, though exquisite, did nothing to compliment Miss Bennet’s natural beauty.

Lizzy’s suspicion that the dressmaker was attempting to press her most expensive wares on na?ve rubes who would not know any better was furthered when a frustrated Jane corrected Madame Claudette with uncharacteristic sharpness.

“No, Madame. You are mistaken; I am marrying Mr. Bingley. It is my sister here who is to wed Mr. Darcy and will become Miss Darcy’s new sister. ”

The Frenchwoman had eyed the two ladies, clearly comparing the pair and questioning Mr. Darcy’s judgment.

Then, with hardly a blink, she had summoned an assistant for Miss Bennet and turned her attentions on Elizabeth.

When she began pressing the same fabrics on her as “just the thing to brighten up your coloring,” Lizzy could barely refrain from rolling her eyes, particularly as she rather thought that such a particular flavor of greenish yellow would make her look quite bilious; only the covetous look in Georgiana’s eye kept her from saying so directly.

Instead, after sharing a look with Mrs. Gardiner, she had demurred with a “perhaps” and turned Madame Claudette’s energy toward recommending patterns.

In the end, the Miss Bennets were at Madame Claudette’s for more than three hours before escaping back into the sunlight.

Much to the modista’s chagrin, her customers had departed without making a single order, although her spirits were revived somewhat when Miss Darcy shyly indicated that she would return later in the week to select a new gown to wear to her brother’s wedding.

After sending Georgiana off in the carriage so that she would be home in time for her music lesson, the other three ladies had wandered around the square, enjoying the fresh air for some minutes until Elizabeth spied a chocolate house and urged the others to stop for a bit of refreshment.

It was not long before the three were enjoying the steaming beverages and giggling over Madame Claudette’s misjudgments.

“What on Earth was she thinking, trying to dress you in that chartreuse brocade, Lizzy? It made you look positively ill!” huffed Mrs. Gardiner.

“I rather suspect that she had paid too high a price for the fabric herself and had not yet been able to foist it upon anyone else,” responded Elizabeth. “Jane, I believe that even Mama would have been taken aback by the cut of that evening gown.”

Miss Bennet actually blushed over the memory of the plunging décolletage.

“Madame seemed very certain that such cuts are the current fashion, but I believe I would prefer to be considered old-fashioned if that is the style. Do ladies in London really wear such necklines? Without even a lace tucker?”

Mrs. Gardiner patted her niece’s hand reassuringly.

“Perhaps a few, my dear, but don’t worry about it.

You and Elizabeth both have excellent taste; trust your instincts and you shall be admired and respected wherever you go.

I can only guess that Mr. Darcy made it very clear that his sister was to be dressed conservatively, so Madame Claudette does not dare press her more…

extreme… fashions on the girl. I fear to think of who she does dress in such creations! ”

Elizabeth looked like the cat that got the cream and it took little encouragement from the others for her to admit that she had spoken with one of Madame Claudette’s underlings while the modista herself was focused on Jane. “Apparently Miss Bingley is one of her most devoted patrons.”

“How odd; Miss Darcy is always so well-dressed.” It took Jane a moment to realize why the others were laughing at her. “I didn’t mean to say that Caroline is not… just that… her style is rather… different. Oh, Lizzy! Do stop laughing at me—I’m trying to be kind!”

Despite her reproof, Jane’s giggles soon joined the others’, for all three ladies recognized that Miss Bingley’s fashions were certainly “different” from their own tastes.

“And the prices she was charging for those fabrics! Jane, that yellow satin she tried to press on you had obvious flaws in the weaving, but she acted as if it was fit for the Queen herself!” cried Mrs. Gardiner.

Elizabeth smiled, her irritation evaporating as the humor of the situation began to be apparent. “Well, to be fair, Aunt, you are accustomed to having access to the contents of my uncle’s warehouses, at cost.”

Madeline considered this and began to look rather smug. “I suppose I hadn’t realized quite how much the fabrics were marked up before reaching the haut ton ’s closets. ”

“So really, all we need to do is find a dressmaker whose designs we can tolerate!” announced Lizzy triumphantly.

At just that instant, a bell tinkled, signaling the entrance of another patron. Elizabeth glanced up and nodded in recognition of one of the few girls at Madame Claudette’s who had actually attempted to help her find something to her taste until the modista had shooed her away.

Encouraged by the lady’s pleasant look, the seamstress said something to the man behind the counter and then approached their table.

Although she looked hardly more than a girl herself, a boy of about four held tightly to her hand.

Their relationship was obvious when both turned dark, intense eyes upon Elizabeth.

“Mademoiselle… ah… Miss Bennet. Pardon, my anglaise is still very poor.”

“Not at all; it is rather self-centered of us to expect that the rest of the world will all learn English to suit our convenience.” Elizabeth made the lady welcome, even encouraging her to sit at one of the empty chairs and introducing her to Jane and Mrs. Gardiner.

“I am called Isabelle Lavoisier and this is my son, Laurent.” Despite the linguistic barrier, the slight but energetic young woman managed to explain that she had been a dressmaker in Paris but had been forced to flee after her husband had been imprisoned and later executed during the White Terror.

Her sister’s husband owned the chocolate house and she was working there temporarily, but desired to find work that allowed her to use her talent with chalk and needle.

She had been at Madame Claudette’s to apply for a position, but had not been impressed by the woman.

In a few minutes, Madame Lavoisier’s portfolio had been opened and her designs passed around.

In contrast to the other modista, she offered them only as examples of dresses she had produced for past clients, assuring them that she would be pleased to design gowns specifically to flatter the ladies.

Each page was covered with sketches of a dress from different angles, with certain details enlarged and swatches of fabric, lace, and ribbons pinned to the sheet to document the materials.

“Oh Lizzy—look at this one!” Jane sounded positively breathless and Elizabeth smiled at the way her sister touched the sketch of a sapphire blue ball gown with near reverence.

Noting that her aunt was equally impressed, Elizabeth turned to the Frenchwoman with a smile.

“You are extremely talented, Madame Lavoisier. My sister and I both will be marrying on the fifteenth of September, and we have quite a bit of sewing to be done. In addition to new gowns to wear for the wedding itself, there are several dinners to celebrate our engagement, including one hosted by the Earl of Matlock next Wednesday. Would you be able to take on such a challenge?”

The small woman fairly vibrated with pleasure. “ Mais oui! I mean, yes, mademoiselle . Already I have ideas for such designs… they shall show you and Mademoiselle Bennet to be the most beautiful ladies in all England!”