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Rosaline stayed perfectly still. It was such a contrast to the words that Chloe had uttered, Rosaline was rather wrong-footed. She said nothing for a minute but stared down at the picture she had drawn of the gown, rather wishing she could turn back the clock to that night.
What would I give to be dancing with Lord Gloucester again while wearing that gown?
“Rose, please.” Alfred’s nickname urged her to return her focus to him. “Do not have hope where there is none.”
“Yes, of course, father.” She nodded, feeling her spine slump and her shoulders begin to round.
Perhaps he is right? I have not seen Lord Gloucester since, after all, and I have no reason to, do I? It is not as if I will be invited to an event held by the ton again.
“Now, this seamstress . . .” Alfred paused and looked at the drawing.
“This modiste, now,” Rosaline reminded her father. “Her shop is to open very soon.”
“When?”
“I do not know when. I think she is waiting until the shop is sorted. That is why I have come to you.” She gestured to her father, making him flinch in surprise. “Chloe is keen to have some advice from someone experienced in the field. I thought perhaps that you could meet with her?”
“Meet with her? Oh, I regret that will not be possible.” Alfred neatly folded the pencil drawing in two and laid it down on the counter in front of him. “I am much too busy with my own shop and designs at present. I will not be able to see her any time soon.”
“That is a shame.” Rosaline felt her spine slump further. “Well, Chloe did say that a letter could suffice. Father, perhaps you could put together some advice? Write down anything you have learned from your experience? It could be invaluable to my friend.”
“I suppose I could.” Alfred shifted between his feet, before nodding. “Yes, very well. I will write something down for her.”
“Wonderful, thank you, father.” Rosaline jumped down from the stool, about to leave when her father lifted another sheet of paper.
“Rosaline, do you remember any other of your friend’s designs?”
“A few. Why?” she asked uncertainly as he pressed the pencil into her hand.
“I am merely intrigued to see the work of this new modiste. It is admirable to see someone who can capture the attention of the ton by storm in such a way. Please, show me more of her designs. I’d be glad of it.” Alfred urged Rosaline to focus on the paper.
Rosaline could remember a few of them and spent some minutes drawing the designs out. A few were better than others, and they were all of the gowns that had been worn at the ball.
“The duchess wore this, is it not stunning?” Rosaline said, pointing to the first one on the page. “And this one . . .” She hovered her pencil over a Pomona green gown. “It was worn by Chloe herself.”
“She attended?”
“Yes, father. Of course, she did.” To Rosaline’s surprise, the paper was snatched up again. Alfred spent a few minutes with his eyes darting between the gowns. In particular, he tarried on the green dress, staring at it for some minutes together. “So, what do you think? When will you be able to put together some advice for my friend?”
“Within the next few days,” Alfred said distractedly.
“That is excellent news! I cannot wait to tell Chloe.” Rosaline clasped her hands together. The sudden sound made Alfred look up from his perusal of the designs.
“Rosaline, you do not intend to go to any more of these events, do you?”
“Events? No, father. It was a special occasion. No other mention has been made of such a thing.”
“Good. Very good. I think it for the best. You should stop thinking of Lord Gloucester, Rose. For your own sake.” He slowly folded up the second sheet of paper and laid it on top of the first. With that movement, their conversation seemed to have drawn to a close.
Rosaline sat hunched on the chair, no longer humming, and no longer letting her imagination wander.
Perhaps my father is right. It does no good to think too much of Lord Gloucester.
Chapter 13
Chloe
“At some point, you will need to stop fidgeting.”
