life, Fancy,” Bea went on. “After I was scarred, they turned their backs on me, even those who professed to be my closest friends. None of them showed your goodness, loyalty, or heart. Any man who deserves you will see that: will see you for the jewel that you are.”
Fancy was touched by her friend’s words. Yet if she were a jewel, she would be a diamond in the rough compared to the sparkling perfection of Imogen, Countess of Cardiff. Being born a duke’s daughter, Bea didn’t understand certain things…and perhaps couldn’t. Even when the winds of Fate had been cruel, she’d had wealth and privilege to buffer her.
Not having those things, Fancy would have to rely on her skills to win her husband’s heart.
“Even a jewel needs the right setting and polishing up,” she said lightly. “Speaking o’ which, Aunt Esther is taking me shopping this afternoon.”
“I wish I could come with you,” Bea said, “but Wick is taking me to look at rings.”
The glow of happiness on Bea’s face warmed Fancy inside and out. They moved on to discuss the plans for Bea’s wedding ceremony, and Fancy offered to help however she could. Listening to her once-jaded chum wax on about flowers and decorations, she felt her resolve and courage strengthen.
Love was everything, and she would fight for it in her own marriage.
21
That afternoon, Fancy followed Aunt Esther into a shop on Bond Street. The establishment’s exclusivity was such that its name was not advertised. There was only a discreet sign in the window that read, “By Appointment Only.”
The sparkling plate glass windows and royal blue awning piped with gold set the tone for the elegantly spartan interior. Gleaming rosewood counters and cabinets lined the shop’s perimeter. Chairs upholstered in dark blue velvet were clustered next to small tables laid with gilt-rimmed teacups.
“Bienvenue, ladies.” A dressmaker’s assistant came to greet them with a diffident curtsy. “Madame Rousseau is finishing up with a client and will be with you shortly. Please have a seat.”
Following Aunt Esther’s lead, Fancy settled into one of the chairs, and before long they had tea and a plate of bite-sized pastries to enjoy as they waited.
Fancy peered at her surroundings with awe. “This is a grand shop, ain’t it?”
“It is an exclusive establishment.” Aunt Esther’s blue-grey eyes were stern over the rim of teacup. “Elocution and grammar lessons begin tomorrow morning, but you might as well start reforming your speech now, Francesca.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Fancy didn’t mind being corrected; as far as she was concerned, she needed all the help she could get to become a lady. “I’ll try my best to speak proper-like.”
“Properly. And don’t try, gel.” Aunt Esther sipped her tea. “Simply do it.”
“Yes, aunt.” Lowering her voice, Fancy said, “Do you think Madame Rousseau will be able to ’elp me look like a duchess?”
“Madame Rousseau is the most sought after modiste in London. Her patrons represent the crème de la crème of Society and include royalty.” Aunt Esther did not whisper. “If she cannot help you, no one can. She only accepts clients by referral, and it takes months to get a booking with her. You are only getting in because I am giving you my appointment.”
“That is kind o’ you,” Fancy said earnestly. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
Aunt Esther set down her cup. “I am not doing it for you, gel. I am doing it for the family.”
“I know. But I’m still grateful for your ’elp. And for all you’ve done for Knight.”
“What do you know about that?” the lady asked, her thin black brows arching.
“I know that you championed ’im when a cousin contested ’is legitimacy and right to the title. I know you supported ’im when you could ’ave looked the other way. And I know that you’re one o’ the few people in Knight’s life who ’as stood up for ’im,” Fancy said with trembling sincerity. “For that, you’ll ’ave my gratitude always.”
“Knighton told you this?” Aunt Esther looked astonished. “He said that I championed him?”
He had not said that in so many words. But Fancy knew that he felt it.
She recalled how solitary Knight had seemed when they first met. And the way he had kept himself apart from her family and the Taylors, not because he was a snob but because, she suspected, he simply did not know how to be part of a family. She thought of his wry comments about his siblings’ dislike of him and his stark resignation when that introductory