Episode 12

After boarding the carriage and fastening the buttons on Juliet’s dress, Elouise looked up towards Marcus. He asked immediately,

“Is it better to coordinate the dress with the jewels, or the jewels with the dress?”

“…Excuse me?”

His radiant, assured smile was dazzling. His defined jawline, framed by soft brown hair, and his warm green eyes, all illuminated by the midday sun streaming into the carriage, made him look like a portrait come to life.

Elouise nearly lost herself for a moment, then finally replied. Logan added helpfully,

“Most people purchase the jewelry first, then coordinate the attire. Jewelry is the greater investment, after all.”

“But my late mother never concerned herself with such matters. My sister was the same. That’s why I’m asking—which do you prefer?”

Ah. So he meant—should they visit the dressmaker first or the jeweler?

As Elouise was still considering the question, Marcus pointed in either direction with a flick of his fingers.

“Dress shop? Or jeweler?”

Elouise offered a resigned smile.

“How much are you intending to buy…?”

“As much as I can. Excellent, let’s begin with the clothing. That will take more time anyway.”

The moment Marcus sensed Elouise might hesitate, he snapped his fingers and directed the coachman toward the dressmaker.

He truly was decisive. Efficient, even. Logan called out from the window,

“To the commercial district!”

The carriage began moving. Elouise rolled her eyes and asked Marcus,

“So you have a sister?”

“Yes. She’s married and doing well—two children, growing like weeds already.”

Marcus shrugged. Logan added,

“She’s not particularly fond of the young master.”

Elouise blinked. Discord between siblings wasn’t uncommon in noble families. Was it a matter of inheritance?

But the misunderstanding cleared quickly thanks to Marcus’s grumbling.

“If I don’t get married, all of House Hanger’s fortune goes to the Deveres family, so why is she always pestering me about settling down?”

“I doubt Lady Gloria’s household has any need of Hanger wealth,” Logan replied dryly. “But I suspect…”

“Don’t. You’re about to bring up Clarice again, aren’t you?”

Marcus waved his hand dismissively. Logan glanced at Elouise.

Elouise caught on instantly—it was an ex-girlfriend story—and gave a small smile.

“I don’t mind. We’re not even romantically involved. You can talk about other women in front of me all you like.”

“Ah.” Logan nodded, then continued.

“The young master used to date… well, Lady Gloria’s close friend.”

“Hey!”

“What? If not for Miss Clarice, Lady Gloria wouldn’t be so invested in your marital prospects. I told you—don’t go stirring up old embers if you don’t want to get burned.”

So this man, hopelessly susceptible to love, had stirred the embers of his sister’s social circle—and ended up scorched. Elouise suppressed a laugh. Marcus added sheepishly,

“Love is like that, isn’t it? Once you fall, everything else vanishes.”

“Fall in love, get hit in the face…”

“You little—”

Their bickering was cut short as the carriage stopped before the dress shop. Hearing that Marcus had arrived, the designer practically ran out barefoot to welcome him.

“Welcome, Young Master of House Hanger! How may I assist you today?”

“Oh, just pick out whatever you’ve newly completed for me. I’m here for the lady’s wardrobe.”

“The lady’s? Then Betty will be assisting you. Someone fetch Betty!”

Marcus winked.

Elouise felt a bit unmoored. She had purchased clothing before, of course, but never received service like this. In Maine, she always bought off-the-rack garments. Tailoring was an uncommon indulgence.

But the man beside her moved people with the flick of a finger. As she approached the stairs, Marcus naturally extended a hand to escort her.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

The designer, walking ahead, froze momentarily. The glance she gave them was unmistakable: So, he brought his lover this time. Elouise felt… off balance.

How many women had he brought here before?

She asked casually,

“How long have you been in Cliff?”

“About four months.”

Just as she began calculating how many women might’ve accompanied him in that time, Marcus glanced her way and smiled knowingly.

“I fell for Duchess Bellona the moment I arrived. So, practically speaking, no one else has come here with me.”

Caught red-handed, her face flushed.

They were ushered into a spacious fitting room—Elouise, Juliet, Marcus, and Logan. The room was awash in natural light, with a plush sofa at its center. As they situated themselves, a woman in her forties approached.

“Hello, I’m Betty.”

“Good to see you again, Betty. How have you been?”

“Quite well, Young Master. Are we outfitting the ladies today? For outings?”

“Oh, that reminds me.”

Marcus rubbed his forehead with a teasing grin—handsome even in mischief. Elouise nearly forgot to breathe. With a glint in his green eyes, Marcus said,

“Do everything.”

“Everything…?”

Elouise quickly interrupted.

“We need indoor wear first. For both myself and the child. Ready-to-wear is fine if it can be tailored. At least two gowns. And negligees—in quality fabric. Blouses, skirts, and blazers over dresses would be ideal.”

“Understood. I’ll have our ready-to-wear brought up. And?”

“We’ll also need dresses for outings. Hmm…”

Five? One for each day until the weekend? Seven? Perhaps go bold and order ten? As Elouise counted on her fingers, Marcus asked Betty,

“What’s in vogue this season? For women’s attire.”

“Well… since it’s spring, floral prints are quite popular. Ribbon embroidery is trending as well, but we’ve also been receiving imported fabric from Dublin—machine-woven, with extraordinarily fine threads and intricate patterns.”

“Is it in demand?”

“Oh, we can’t keep it in stock!”

“How many varieties?”

Betty beamed.

“If you’d like it, we’ll source it. At present, we carry over 40 types…”

Forty.

Elouise, who had been wavering between ten and twelve dresses, was stunned. In Maine, even the best shops carried perhaps four or five machine-made fabrics. They were costly and fragile.

And now I can choose ten kinds freely!

Perhaps twenty, counting Juliet’s wardrobe? Elation swelled in her chest. As Marcus noticed the glow on her face, he turned back and asked softly,

“Are they all floral?”

“There are many florals, yes, but we also offer polka dots, stripes—more playful designs that appeal to younger ladies. In a range of materials: satin, jacquard, twill…”

Satin! Elouise had always wanted to feel it but settled for muslin. Jacquard, twill—it was like something from a dream.

What to choose? Which lace would suit Juliet best? She had always wanted to see Juliet in a blue satin dress—was that possible now?

Just as she was about to ask with excitement, Marcus spoke first.

“What do you like?”

“Mm… as I said earlier, I prefer blue tones…”

Betty interjected cheerfully.

“Ah! Blue fabrics are our specialty! We’ve dedicated an entire room to them, inspired by the coast of Cliff!”

“Oh, is that so?”

Betty smiled.

“Every year, at least one or two ladies visit after seeing the sea, asking for blue gowns.”

“I see. I do love blue. Then—”

Just then, Marcus raised his hand and cut in.

“Tailor one of everything from every fabric.”

“…Pardon?”

Elouise’s eyes widened. Even Betty looked taken aback. Marcus leaned back on the sofa and smiled. Betty clarified,

“Just our machine-made fabrics? Or all our outdoor fabrics? We carry over 120 types…”

“All of them. One garment per fabric—dresses, silk nightwear, whatever suits. It may be spring, but it’s still chilly. Do you have any fur?”

“…Marcus,”

Even as she said it, he didn’t avert his gaze. He smiled gently.

“El. Don’t protest. It’s a token of my sincerity.”

“This is excessive.”

“My dear El,”

Marcus leaned in, took her hand, and kissed it over the silk glove.

“Nothing is excessive for the bride of House Hanger.”

“But…”

Elouise faltered, but Marcus turned to Betty.

“Right, and bring out every style of glove you carry. Lambskin is ideal, but we don’t yet know her preference. Also parasols. Do you work with a bespoke shoemaker?”

“Yes, of course.”

Truly a consummate professional. Logan had already withdrawn the checkbook. While Elouise remained overwhelmed, Betty smiled radiantly and summoned other attendants to bring out all the gloves, then asked,

“Do you require hats as well?”

“Everything! Last I checked in the capital, the trend was layering large bird feathers. What’s the fashion here?”

“Oh, Cliff is just catching up! We have peacock, kingfisher, even ostrich feathers!”

“Excellent. Bring it all—everything except what you don’t have.”

Elouise was nearly dancing in a storm of anxiety.

A swift-footed attendant handed Juliet a cookie to keep her occupied, then began taking her measurements. Another assistant unfurled gloves in a rainbow of colors on a velvet board, knelt before Elouise, and presented them with reverence.

As Elouise sat frozen amid the extravagant service, Betty knelt in front of Marcus with a beaming smile.

“Young Master, I hope it’s not too bold to ask—but is this lady to become the bride of House Hanger?”

Marcus didn’t hesitate.

“Yes. Fortunately… the Queen of Spring has come to me.”

Before Elouise could even cringe at the melodramatic line, she tensed.

She’d heard countless times that dress shops were fertile grounds for social gossip.

Is this the moment my name starts circulating in Cliff’s society?

But that was a naïve thought. Betty clapped her hands and beamed.

“Oh my! Congratulations on your upcoming wedding! As luck would have it, we just received a single bolt of exquisitely delicate white crochet lace. It would be absolutely perfect for a wedding gown!”

She proved to be a true merchant, through and through.

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