Daisy nodded. “I quite agree.”
Beatrice, if she were Granby, made much more sense as a wife. Her sense of superiority was firmly in place. She doubted Beatrice knew the names of her servants either and would never think of thanking a footman or maid for their assistance. Beatrice kept her true nature hidden beneath a veneer of modesty and ladylike decorum. She didn’t stride about trading insults with Granby. Beatrice would welcome Granby’s incredibly rigid existence in ways Romy could not.
When Granby had spoken of Italy, with more than a bit of longing, the complicated pieces of his life had started to come together for her. By all accounts, Granby’s father had been a bitter, controlling man. Granby hadn’t so much as traveled to Italy as he’descaped. Romy suspected the man he’d been in Italy was very different from the Duke of Granby. Bits of that man had followed him back to England, but not been allowed to flourish or take root.
A pity, since Granby’s current existence was choking him, as evidenced by the way he absently tugged at his collar, unaware of the habit. The gardens. His hair. The coat. Even Estwood was testament to a different existence. And yet, his duty kept him from embracing the truer version of himself.
Her eyes fluttered shut to keep the gathering tears from falling down her cheeks. How attuned she’d become to him in such a short time. The discomfort Romy caused Granby was real. The man he’d been in Italy wanted Romy, but the Duke of Granby did not. It was actually very simple once she accepted the truth.
Simple, indeed. But it brought her no peace.
* * *
“My lady, you look smashing.”Daisy’s pretty features smiled back at Romy in the oval of the mirror before bending to fluff out the bottom of the gown.
“I do, don’t I?” Romy touched a finger to one of the clips strategically placed in her coiffure.
“I am amazed by the things you create.” Daisy studied her hair. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think them alive and caught between your curls. Each butterfly is different.”
“I can’t take all the credit for the clips completely. I designed them, but Theo did the painting for me.” She turned sideways in the mirror, admiring the way the indigo-shot silk with butterflies embroidered along the hem, floated about her ankles. The skirts parted smoothly to reveal an underskirt also patterned with their beautiful wings. Every time Romy took a step, the gown gave the impression that butterflies were floating out from beneath her skirts.
There was a sharp knock at the door before Theo came through, stunning in a gown of palest pink. Romy had designed the gown so that the color faded from a light cream tinged with just a hint of color to a deep pink as it wrapped around Theo’s waist and bodice. The silk hugged her shoulders, showing a modest swath of skin. At each shoulder, the silk had been gathered to form a facsimile of a rose with a tiny bit of embroidery in green to represent a stem. Fresh roses dotted Theo’s hair.
“Lady Theo,” Daisy exclaimed. “You look like the bud of a rose about to open.”
“Don’t I?” Theo spun, letting her skirts flutter about her ankles. “Wait until Blythe sees my display of bosom.” She frowned a bit in Romy’s direction. “I thought we discussed cutting the bodice a bit deeper.”
“It wasn’t necessary.” Her sister was generously endowed, and a lower neckline would have been problematic. “I didn’t wish you to fall out at an inopportune moment.” Romy gazed down at her own less than generous bosom. There was little chance of such a thing happening to her.
“You’re a very talented artist, Theo. Daisy is amazed at how lifelike the butterflies appear. Perhaps you should showcase your artistic talent to Blythe rather than trying to entice him with only your bosom.”
Theo’s mouth parted, a calculating look crossing her face. “That’s brilliant. Oh, Romy. You are a genius.”
“I am?”
“You’ve just given me an idea of how I might entice Blythe into eventually offering for me. Thank you.”
Romy waited for an explanation, but Theo only smiled to herself and deftly changed the subject.
“Beatrice is going to hate it when the Barrington sisters outshine her, as we are certain to do,” Theo said. “Having made the acquaintance of Lord and Lady Foxwood, it is not hard to see where Beatrice’s manner stems from. I am grateful Mama is not thrustingustoward every eligible title.”
“We’re very fortunate.” Romy didn’t want to think about Beatrice tossing herself at Granby like a dinner roll, though she expected it wouldn’t be for much longer.
“Yes, we are. We both have the talents of the best modiste in London at our disposal.” She winked at Romy before looking over at Daisy, who had resumed packing.
“Don’t worry. Daisy knows. I’ve few secrets from her.” Romy thought about Beatrice’s comments at the picnic. “Rosalind has guessed. Do you think she’d tell anyone?”
Her sister shook her head. “At least not purposefully. And I know it isn’t a perfect situation, but I am glad you have reached an arrangement with Madame Dupree. At least you can practice your craft even if everyone thinks Madame Dupree has designed their wardrobe.”
Strangely enough, Romy had been so preoccupied with Granby, she’d barely spared a thought for Madame Dupree, their partnership, or the shop. The creativity which was such a part of her daily life had deserted her while at The Barrow.
“It is difficult, at times, knowing Madame Dupree will receive the credit, but there isn’t any other option. And it is a far more beneficial partnership than I could have hoped for, even if it must remain secret. I’ll have to tell Mama eventually. And Maggie. Leo won’t mind, though I will refuse to design any of his waistcoats. His color choices are atrocious. Tony may be the only one who will object.”
Theo gave her a hug. “He won’t. Our brother will think you clever for having found a solution to your problem. I’ve yet to make the same determination.” Her sister fluffed her skirts needlessly. “We should go down. I’ve promised my first dance to Blythe.”
“Theo.” Romy took her hand. “Has Blythe given any indication he means to call on you once we return to London? Or given you any indication of his further interest?”
“Don’t concern yourself.” Theo breezed out the door. “I’ve everything figured out. You’ll see.”
