Taking pity on him, she turned to the girls to say, “Shall we be off?”

Within moments, they had piled into the Allendale coach and were on their way to Bond Street, where they were to spend much of their afternoon. Of course, getting there was much easier said than done in the crush of carriages and shoppers. As the coach crept along, Juliana quieted, pressing her nose to the window to watch the bustling activity in the street beyond: scores of aristocrats moving in and out of shops; footmen loading carriages with boxes and packages; gentlemen tipping their hats as they passed clusters of chattering ladies. There was nothing quite like Bond Street at the start of the season. Callie could imagine that Juliana would find the entire experience of shopping alongside the ton rather daunting. Frankly, she couldn’t blame her for it.

Mariana seemed to sense the other girl’s nerves and chattered brightly. “We shall begin, of course, with Madame Hebert.” She placed her hand on Juliana’s, leaning across the carriage to whisper excitedly, “She’s French, of course, and the finest dressmaker in London. Everyone wants her…but she’s very particular about her clientele. In her creations, you’ll be the talk of the season!”

Juliana turned wide eyes on Mariana, and said, “If she is, as you say, particular, why would she accept me as a patron? I have no title.”

“Oh, she shall accept you without question! First, she’s designing my entire trousseau—so she will not be able to turn away a friend of mine. And, if that weren’t enough,” she added, matter-of-factly, “Ralston is a marquess and rich as Croesus. She won’t turn him down.”

“Mariana!” Callie exclaimed in outrage.

Mariana gave Callie a frank look. “Well, it’s true!”

“Nevertheless! It is vulgar to discuss the marquess’s finances.”

“Oh, posh, Callie. Everyone does it among friends.” Mariana waved a hand in dismissal and flashed a grin at Juliana. “It’s true. I’d imagine he’s outfitted several mistresses there.”

“Mariana!” Callie’s voice turned shrill. Juliana laughed, drawing a warning look from Callie. “Don’t encourage her!”

The carriage pulled to a stop, and Mariana adjusted the bow of her bonnet, tying it at a jaunty angle under her chin. She winked impishly at Juliana before hopping down from the carriage to the street below, calling back, “It’s true!”

And, with another laugh, Juliana joined her and the pair rushed ahead, into the modiste’s shop.

Callie followed them, amused. Mari had been the perfect addition to the outing—her natural exuberance was a match for Juliana’s—and Callie was rather proud of herself for making such a wonderful match. Ralston would be happy to hear that his sister had become fast friends with the future Duchess of Rivington; there was no question that such an alliance would smooth Juliana’s entry into society. Assuming, of course, that he never discovered that Mariana was more than willing to discuss his private affairs—all of them, evidently—without a care for discretion. Callie could only hope that the marquess’s own sister was slightly more careful with her words.

Mari was, of course, correct. Most men of London society kept their mistresses well housed and well dressed. Ralston would be no different. At the thought, a memory flashed in Callie’s mind—Ralston in his darkened chamber on that first night, when everything had begun, listing off the things that he had given his mistress at the end of their relationship. You retain the house, the jewels, the clothes. The vision chilled her. She shouldn’t be surprised, of course, but…the pang of jealousy she felt at the thought of his buying clothing for another woman was sharp.

How many had there been?

“Lady Calpurnia!”

The words startled her from her morbid reverie, and she turned to find Baron Oxford approaching from the opposite side of the street. His snug buckskin breeches and dark blue topcoat were offset by his crimson waistcoat, which was perfectly matched to the knob on his cane and the heels of his boots—the brilliance of which was rivaled only by his wide, white smile. Oxford was the height of fashion.

Aside, of course, from the fact that he just bellowed at me from halfway across London.

“Lady Calpurnia!” he repeated as he bounded out of the street to join her on the steps to Madame Hebert. “What tremendous good luck! Why, I was just considering paying a visit to Allendale House…and here you are!”

“Indeed,” Callie said, resisting the urge to ask the baron why he would be at all interested in visiting Allendale House, “here I am!” When Oxford continued to smile at her without speaking, she added, “It is a lovely day for shopping.”

“Only made lovelier by your being here.”

Callie’s eyebrows snapped together. “Oh. Well. Thank you, my lord.”

“Perhaps I could tempt you to forgo your shopping for a fruit ice?”

Was he pursuing her?

“Oh, I couldn’t…You see, my sister is inside.” She waved a hand to indicate the modiste’s shop. “She will be waiting for me.”

“I’m sure she would understand.” He offered one arm to her and, with a wide smile, winked at her.

Callie froze at the gesture. He was most definitely pursuing her.

Why?

“Callie!” Startled, Callie spun toward Mariana, who had popped her head out of the door to the shop to look for her sister. Taking in the scene before her with a look of utter confusion, Mari added, “Oh, hello, Baron Oxford.”

Oxford dipped into an extravagantly low bow, pointing one red-heeled boot in Mariana’s direction. “Lady Mariana, a pleasure, as ever.”

Callie lifted one gloved hand to her lips to cover the smile that escaped at the bizarre interaction. Lips twitching, Mari added, “Yes, well. You will not mind if I steal my sister away, will you?”

Oxford straightened and smiled broadly, “Not at all! Indeed this turn of events will only serve to make it more imperative that I call upon Lady Calpurnia at Allendale House.”

“That would be lovely, my lord.” Callie added in a tone that any but the baron would have noted as too bright. Seizing the opportunity for escape, she hurried up the stairs to Mariana, turning back to wave briefly at Oxford before following her sister into the shop.

“I cannot believe that he kept you waiting in the street! Do you think there is anything in that man’s head at all?” Mari asked under her breath.

Callie grinned. “Aside from teeth?”

The sisters laughed loudly as they approached Juliana, who had already waylaid Madame Hebert. The modiste had clearly decided, as Mariana had predicted, that designing an entire wardrobe for Juliana would be good for business.

Soon, they were surrounded by a gaggle of seamstresses, several of whom had already started measuring the girl, while others scrambled to collect bolts of fabric in every imaginable color and material. One small, bespectacled young woman perched on a nearby stool, taking notes as Mariana joined the conversation.

“She’ll need at least six dinner dresses to start…six day dresses, three riding habits, a dozen morning gowns, five walking dresses…” She paused, allowing the dressmaker’s assistant to catch up with her scribbling. “Oh! And three ball gowns…no, four. They must be stunning, of course,” Mariana said, giving a meaningful look at Madame Hebert. “She must take London by storm.”