Page 21 of A Touch of Charm (Miracles on Harley Street #3)

Two minutes earlier…

A ndre took a moment to absorb the scene at the shop. Behind Mary, a young assistant arranged a new shipment of French ribbons, their delicate patterns catching the light—the assistant’s quick, efficient movements spoke of experience and familiarity with the inventory. A large, gilt-framed mirror hung on the wall behind them, its reflection adding depth to the already elegant space.

While Thea had disappeared into the dressing rooms with a seamstress, Andre continued to look after Mary. The dressmaker had given her a little wicker basket with several cut-off ribbons. Indeed, they were leftovers from tailoring dresses and all the womanly trimmings of the gowns, but for the little girl, they were a treasure trove.

Andre remained near the counter, occasionally drifting to the dressing room, where Thea had disappeared with the two seamstresses.

Mary was happily occupied with the wicker basket filled with ribbons. She carefully deliberated about pulling out each piece, her face lighting up with every discovery. Andre watched her, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her innocent delight was infectious.

“Isn’t this lovely, Felicity?” Mary mumbled to herself, but Andre didn’t think much of it. She seemed content.

Andre’s mind drifted to Thea, the beautiful princess only a few feet away.

“Mother said that Miss Thea moves as if she always wore a petticoat and a ball gown,” Mary said.

“Your mother said that?” Andre tried not to betray the suspicion in his voice. If a lady thought that, she might ask why, and perhaps Thea’s cover as governess would be pierced. But Thea did indeed have a graceful manner of walking and moving. When she turned around, her hands stretched forward and down as if she were indeed ready to push a bustling dress down. And when she climbed stairs, she always lifted the front of her dress as if it were a much larger gown than the simple day dresses she wore.

Yes, she was a princess in every way—and indeed used to wearing elegant gowns every day at Bran Castle, where she and Stan grew up.

Hard to hide.

Impossible to resist.

Andre’s woolgathering was abruptly interrupted by Mary’s sudden gasp. “Oh no! I’ve lost my kitty!” Panic tinged her voice as she spun around, scanning the floor.

Andre crouched down to her level, confusion furrowing his brow. “Kitty? What kitty, Mary?”

“ My little kitty!” She twisted her hands together, her lower lip trembling. “It was right here…”

One of the seamstresses who’d been sorting fans on the counter overheard and immediately paled. “A cat in the shop?” Her eyes widened in horror. “It could climb onto the dresses and destroy the fabrics!”

Andre straightened up, trying to diffuse the situation. “I assure you, it’s not a real cat. Just a toy.”

But Miss Whitmore was already calling for backup. “Madame Duchon! Madame Duchon! We need help! There’s a cat loose in the shop!”

Another seamstress hurried over, her hands fluttering nervously. “A cat? Where?”

Andre could see the humor in the unfolding chaos though he composed his expression. “Really, it’s just a toy,” he repeated, trying to calm the flustered women. “It’s made of carved wood.”

Mary, looking guilty and worried, held up her empty hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make everyone upset.”

The scene drew a chuckle from Andre, despite himself. He glanced around the elegant store, filled with the mild pandemonium caused by a little girl’s imagination. He instantly understood why children didn’t usually come to such places. Yet, something was endearing about Mary’s disruption, a reminder of life’s simple joys even amid luxury.

Suddenly, a rustle of fabric caught his attention. He turned toward the dressing rooms, and his breath stilled. Thea emerged wearing a stunning ball gown. The dress was a deep, rich blue, the front adorned with intricate embroidery of large blossoms in red and gold thread. Her hair was half pinned up, the rest cascading over her bare back in soft curls. Andre knew from his own sister that there hadn’t been time to fuss over Thea’s hair. This was a haphazard upswept style and her natural, breathtaking beauty.

Andre’s senses sharpened, and every detail of the moment imprinted itself on his mind. The gown hugged her upper body perfectly, flowing gracefully with each step. The embroidery caught the light, shimmering subtly and drawing his eye to the masterful craftsmanship. The scent of the faint perfume she wore, created an intoxicating blend that seemed tailored to enchant him.

His gaze traveled from her delicate neckline, framed by her elegant updo, to the gentle curve of her waist and down to the gown’s hem, which just brushed the floor. The room seemed to fade around her, leaving only Thea in sharp focus. A warm flush crept up his neck, and his heartbeat was loud in his ears.

Thea met his eyes, a shy smile playing on her lips. “What do you think?”

“A cat is loose! Oh, the gowns, oh, the fabrics!” Madame Duchon wailed as she combed her hands through her hair and joined the panicked seamstresses. Mary squealed joyfully, probably thinking it was a game since she knew the cat was a toy.

Thea glanced at the chaos in the store and narrowed her eyes. But then Mary climbed on a chair and called out, “There!” All the wailing women darted in a direction. “No, there!” She pointed in another direction.

Thea sucked her upper lip in and suppressed a chuckle.

Andre began to shake in mirth.

“No, over there now! Quick!”

Thea covered her mouth with her hand and took a few steps back when a seamstress appeared from a back room with a tall ladder. “Over there?” she asked, setting the ladder against a tall shelf with neatly folded fabrics.

Mary nodded, her little mischievous eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

“I told them the cat is a toy,” Andre shrugged, and Thea giggled. He followed Thea to the secluded corridor leading to the fitting room. It looked like a lavishly outfitted ladies’ parlor room with various accessories on display that he didn’t know half the names of. There were gloves and fans and a velvet-upholstered board with sparkling pins.

But he only had eyes for the sparkling beauty beside him.

“What do you think of my dress?”

For a moment, words failed him. His mouth went dry, and he had to swallow before responding.

*

“You look… breathtaking.” The sincerity in his voice mirrored the awe in his gaze.

Thea’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She glanced down, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in her gown. “Thank you, Andre.”

Mary, sensing the shift in atmosphere, clapped her hands and whispered, “See, you are a prince! And Thea is a princess!”

Well, he wasn’t, that was the problem. But Andre laughed softly, the sound easing the lingering tension in his chest. He extended his hand to Thea, his fingers barely brushing hers.

Thea placed her hand in his, her touch sending a pleasant tingle through him. They stood there, surrounded by luxurious fabrics and the remnants of a child’s playful chaos. The moment was simple, a testament to life’s unexpected beauty.

In that instant, amid the laughter and elegance, Andre realized this was true happiness: unplanned, unrestrained, and utterly natural.

“Aaaahhhh!”

A crash.