Page 26 of A Foolish Flirtation

As for the full skirt, it was already a bell shape with its stiffened petticoats, and she did not want further rows upon rows of frills to make it even bigger. Madame was disappointed but Emmie was resolute.

This time around, she would not be forced into silhouettes that did not suit her. She wanted clothes that would flatter her and make her feel pretty, not a spectacle. Quite frankly, she did not care if she was wearing the latest fashion or not.

“Will it truly be ready for two weeks’ time?” Emmie asked doubtfully as Madame had her assistants carry the bolts of fabric away.

“Most assuredly. I have hired extra hands on his lordship’s instruction. You must come back every day at the same time until that time.”

“Every day?” Emmie was startled and not pleasurably so.

Madame nodded emphatically. “Tomorrow we will look at fitting the bodice toile. We have the measurements now to start the calico pattern and will make any necessary adjustments tomorrow. The team is sat in the back room now, starting work on your gown.”

Emmie was impressed if not a little intimidated by this efficiency. As a reward, after the appointment, she and Pinky went for a very nice meal and made the most of it. Emmie’s mood veered wildly over the three courses, from grimly determined to cautiously optimistic and back again.

It would be so nice not to have to worry about money ever again! It wore on one so and tainted almost every experience when you never knew if you would be able to afford next month’s rent.

Of course, these days she had other concerns lurking at the back of her brain. Namely what manner of bridegroom she had agreed to marry, but she refused to let herself dwell on this overlong. She had done what she needed to do, that was all. Accepting Lord Faris’s suit had been a necessary evil, nothing more.

Over the next two weeks, their days were full and busy. Colfax called every morning and on the third morning, he returned their formerly pawned items. He was apologetic when informing Emmie that her gold bracelet had been sold, for the six-month waiting period had passed. Emmie bore the loss stoically, for she had sold pieces she had liked far better.

The morning after that, they received a hamper of sugar, eggs, jam, and pastries piled high and tied up with a ribbon, sent with the compliments of Master Teddy. Pinky was quite overcome. “So thoughtful!” she exclaimed. “Really, quite a dear little boy.”

“He’s hanging out for another invitation to breakfast,” Emmie laughed. “But we are far too busy to entertain at present, and besides, we have half-packed boxes and trunks lying open in every room.”

They started attaching labels to the various pieces of furniture on the second week. Any item Emmie thought she could live without would send Pinky into flat despair. “Oh, you surely cannot part with that, Emmie!” she would protest, her eyes filling with tears. “It is so grand, and do you not remember how handsome it used to look in the sitting room at Porchester Square?” It seemed Pinky could only bear to part with the cheaper items they had bought in recent years to fit into smaller spaces.

In the end, Emmie simply resigned herself to the fact they were taking several unwieldy pieces and devoutly hoped Vance Park could accommodate them. Thinking of Lord Faris’s luxurious carriage and immaculate clothes, she felt some misgivings on the subject. If his home was half as smart as he was, then he would take a poor view of having to house several out-of-date pieces of furniture.

Emmie eyed the comfortable, if rather shabby, mismatched armchairs and wondered if Pinky would have a room of her own large enough to contain them. She knew housekeepers often had their own sitting rooms. Would Lord Faris’s generosity extend to such a thing for his governess? She could but hope.

Every afternoon Emmie was collected by Viscount Faris’s crested carriage and taken to Jerwin Street where she had pattern pieces pinned to her. Once they were satisfied with the fit of her bridal gown, then more sketches were brought forth for walking gowns, day dresses, house dresses, frilly wrappers, and elaborate evening gowns.

“But Madame,” Emmie objected. “There is surely not enough time for all of these gowns to be made up.”

“No,” she agreed with alacrity. “But if we get the pattern pieces fitted to you, then the finished gowns can be sent on afterward to Vance Park.”

Emmie supposed she could see the sense in that. Madame was quick to veto Emmie’s habitual shades of green, navy, and brown. “It is spring, and you are a bride, mademoiselle. You must pick out the pretty colors.”

She was encouraged instead to pick from a bewildering variety of pinks and pale blues. “I have not worn such colors for years,” Emmie admitted. Practical considerations such as how things would wash, and durability had been prioritized of late.

“You were in mourning,” Pinky agreed. “And then…” They exchanged a look which said, And then money became tight, but neither of them voiced this thought aloud. “Oh, this would look so pretty on you, Emmie!” Pinky exclaimed, leaning forward to touch a bolt of delicate material. “You always looked so well in shades of pink.”

“You do not think it might be a little too…young for me?” Emmie prevaricated.

But Madame de Flores would not hear of this and by the end of the session, Emmie had completely lost track of precisely what garments were being made, let alone how many of them. She would simply have to keep to her daily appointments and leave the rest to providence.

It was on the twelfth day that Madame de Flores announced the dress was ready and they were to have a full-dress rehearsal. To Emmeline’s astonishment, they had a girl ready to dress her hair as well as the regular attendants. Silk stockings, long gloves, and embroidered slippers which matched her veil were all laid out ready for her.

“I had not realized we were doing this today,” she protested as the team of young women carried her off to be dressed and pampered. Even Pinky did not escape their attention, for when Emmeline emerged in her finery, her friend was trying on a selection of bonnets which had been brought out for her inspection. This seemed quite odd for the establishment was not a millinery.

“I hardly know,” Pinky was dithering. “I am sure I have plenty of wear left in my black crepe. Oh, Emmie!” Pinky cried, catching sight of her, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, don’t you look a picture!”

“Do you think so?” Emmie asked self-consciously. “You don’t think it is, well, a little too much?”

“Oh no!” Pinky said earnestly. “You look like a fairy-tale princess.”

This was not exactly reassuring. At eighteen, Emmie would have been delighted to hear this, but at twenty-eight… She hastened toward the full-length mirror to gape at her dazzling reflection. “I’m not sure about this veil now my hair has been dressed in all these fancy hair pins. When I picked out this elaborate one, I thought my hair would be quite plain, not all swept about and dressed like this.”

“But the pins are so pretty!” Pinky enthused. “Why, when they catch the light, they glitter like diamonds!”