Diana bit back a smile. “Go on then, Eliza.” As her sister and Mrs. Joyce went behind the screen, Diana said to Rosy, “This is as good a time as any to teach you about color. While you look radiant in white, my dear, so do many other young ladies. In a sea of white, you want to be the pretty pink shell or the vibrant blue fish. The gentlemen must first notice you if you want them to court you.”
Rosy nodded.
“So,” Diana went on, “to stand out from the other ladies, I recommend you insert color here and there in your ensemble—a border of embroidery at your hem and sleeve cuffs, a colorful silk shawl, a fichu-cravat perhaps, or even gloves, shoes, and hair ornaments that match each other. If you prefer, you might even wear a colored gown, perhaps one in a pale lavender or cool yellow. In spring, light pink is good as well, especially for a young lady of your coloring.”
Diana pulled out a gown from Rosy’s closet. “This one isn’t too bad. It’s the right shape for you and looks as if it would fit.” She put it back in the closet. “Ooh, this month’s La Belle Assemblée has a perfect gown for spring, and no one has seen it yet.”
“Since we know the editor,” Eliza said from behind the screen, “she shows us all the fashion plates before they go into the magazine. Thanks to her, we can order gowns for our clients that are new to everyone else. That puts them at the forefront of fashion instead of the hindside. It’s a good place to be if you’re striving to impress everyone.”
“The design of this particular gown gives you a bit of both worlds when it comes to having a flattering look,” Diana said. “You can have both a white underdress and a Pomona green overdress that would look delicious with your vibrant emerald eyes.”
“And that’s good?” Rosy asked. “Looking ‘delicious,’ I mean?”
“Of course. You want the men to eat you up, don’t you?”
“Not literally,” Rosy said, looking horrified.
Diana suppressed a laugh. “We aren’t advocating cannibalism, my dear.” She suddenly flashed on the expression of sheer hunger on Grenwood’s face when he’d first met her. Remembering how she’d shivered beneath the power of that all-encompassing stare, she shook her head. Really, she was behaving quite daft today. And over Almighty Grenwood, too. How absurd. “But men do have a way of . . . how do I explain it . . . devouring you with their eyes.”
“They’ve never done that to me,” Rosy said.
With a pat of her hand, Diana said, “They will, I assure you.”
At that moment, Eliza emerged from behind the screen. “Just as I said—it’s too small.” She twirled slowly to allow Diana and Rosy to see it in full.
Diana touched Rosy’s arm. “Look at Eliza now. What do you see?”
“She . . .” Rosy winced. “Forgive me, Mrs. Pierce, but you look as stout in that as I do.”
“Exactly,” Diana said, pleased that Rosy had made the connection. “The two of you are actually about the same girth and height. But Eliza’s own clothes are designed to minimize her flaws and maximize her virtues, so she looks as if she’s closer to the ideal female form that society prefers. Whereas in your gown, she . . . Well, that sash around the natural waist is too thin, so it looks as if Eliza is spilling over it, which makes her look plump. The bodice is too tight, which also exaggerates her already full bosom. And the length—”
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean!” Rosy said. “With her white stockings showing, she appears shorter than she actually is.” The young lady paled. “Is that how I look in it?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Always,” Rosy said.
“Then I’m afraid you do. It’s easier to tell these things on another person, especially when that person has the same shape as you. Also, whenever you look in the mirror, remember that you’re seeing only the one view.” Diana gestured to Eliza to stop twirling. “What about the trim? What do you notice about that?”
“The ruffles make her look childish, I’ll admit.” Rosy sighed. “The thing is, I like ruffles.”
“You can have ruffles, but let’s restrict them to your hems for now. Too many ruffles make the gown look fussy instead of elegant, like Eliza’s own gown, which has less adornment.”
Rosy stared at Diana wide-eyed. “So I can have dresses created that make me look elegant?”
“Not only will you look elegant, but you’ll look as beautiful to yourself as you do to your mother and brother. As beautiful as you truly are. There’s nothing wrong with being our shape. You just need gowns that display it best.”
Excitement lit Rosy’s face. “That would be nice for a change.”
A short while later, Diana and Rosy, along with her mother, who wanted some gowns made for herself, too, were off to Mrs. Ludgate’s, leaving Verity and Eliza behind to figure out ideas for decorations, music, and food.
So far, everything was going very well. Perhaps Diana should consider herself lucky that the duke hadn’t appeared. Why didn’t she?
Diana, Rosy, and Mrs. Brookhouse spent a very satisfying afternoon at the dressmaker’s. Diana had brought a few of Rosy’s more acceptable gowns to be altered so she would have dresses to wear until the others were made. Diana had also chosen to have made the gown she’d told Rosy about, but in different colors.
Every necessary part of Rosy and her mother had been measured, and then Diana had helped them pick fabrics. Mrs. Brookhouse had been limited to half-mourning colors—white, gray, and lavender. Rosy, on the other hand, had more choices, so she and Diana picked some colors for Rosy’s gowns that would complement her coloring.
By the time they left Mrs. Ludgate’s establishment, Mrs. Brookhouse and Rosy each had a fashion doll in their arms, with gowns and accessories to try on them so the ladies could better tell how the fabrics lay and how the colors appeared in various lights. That way they could determine what alterations they might like made to the designs.