Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 01] by Desperately Seeking a Duke

“Miss Millbury, if you will please ascend?” He took her hand and placed her on the round raised dais, standing her there like a reluctant doll. Pushed back from the platform stood a number of tall mirrors, currently shrouded in white cloth.
    “I do not wish to be distracted by reflections,” Lementeur said when he saw her looking over her shoulder at them. “Now be still.”
    Phoebe stood as straight and still as possible, suddenly horribly aware of every possible flaw in her appearance.
    Lementeur circled her, murmuring. “Yes, yes, the bosom is very good, the waist divine … the hips, heaven help us … not to worry, not to worry … there are ways …”
    Since he was obviously not speaking to her, Phoebe worried plenty. Her hips? She’d never given them a thought! She suppressed the desire to run her hands over herself, to see if larger hips had mysteriously materialized. Perhaps she ought to skip that second crumpet at tea …
    He came around to the front of her and peered into her face. “Marvelous skin. You’ve been most diligent with your bonnet.” He pondered her for a long moment, tapping one finger against his lips. “What colors … ?”
    Tessa spoke up from across the room, where Phoebe became aware that they had all been watching with extreme fascination, even Sophie. “Mr. Lementeur, I believe Brookhaven prefers blue.”
    Lementeur sent Phoebe a long-suffering look. Phoebe sympathized completely. Without turning his head, he
raised his voice to answer Tessa. “Everyone knows that Brookhaven prefers blue , my lady. Yet which blue is best? Cerulean? Lapis? The color of Turkish stone? The deepest royal blue?” He shot one scathing look over his shoulder. “Do let me think, if you please?”
    He turned back to Phoebe with a small smile on his lips that told her he’d enjoyed that. “Now, my dear, tell me—for we must appeal to more than his lordship’s sense of color—what, in your perception, led him to focus his attentions solely on you?”
    “I—I haven’t the foggiest notion.” She looked away. “I never met the man before the engagement … but I know it was on his brother’s recommendation that he chose me.” A rather humiliating admission.
    Lementeur raised a brow. “ Really? Marbrook, eh?” The other brow joined the first. “Actually, that does make …” The murmured thought trailed off and he clapped his hands together and smiled. “Yes. Yes, I have it. I have something that will do for this evening. It was meant for Lady Reardon, but she’ll understand when I tell her. She believes in true love, you see.” His eyes twinkled.
    True love? The marquis was a respectable man, but that was overstating the case. Then again, what did it matter what people thought?
    “I’ll have it sent over as soon as I have it hemmed, along with a few other things. Now go. Begone. Come back in two days for your first fitting.”
    “Two days?” Phoebe hadn’t had many gowns made in her life but she knew it generally took longer than that.
    “I do not get paid by the hour like some lowly seamstress!” He shooed her off the dais with both hands. “Leave. All of you. I must work.”
    Phoebe shooed, hopping off the dais and rejoining the others. Tessa gazed at Lementeur in bewilderment. “Leave? But what of our—”

    Lementeur crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Cabot!”
    The beautiful young man appeared from nowhere to escort them all from the room. Once the door was closed, he deigned to offer them a chilly smile.
    “The master’s eye does not require such props as measuring tapes. Miss Millbury, your trousseau will be ready to fit in two days. There will never be another fitting required, unless your figure changes.” He nodded to the others, not quite a bow, but more respectful than before.
    Tessa sputtered. “But I must consult as to color and style—”
    Cabot’s gaze became absolutely glacial. “My lady, if you desire an ordinary gown, perhaps you wish to go