“I, too, just got off a ship! My husband and I are returning from Turkey. We have been traveling for almost a year, and I returned without a garment to my back.” The duchess turned to Madame Carême with a smile. “That is why, dear Madame, I ventured to visit you without an appointment. I was desperate!”

She turned back to Gabby. “Please forgive me for interrupting your engagement with Madame, Miss Jerningham. Tell me, how are you finding London?”

Gabby responded despite herself to the duchess’s merry blue eyes. “I like it very much,” she said. “Although I have seen little of the city so far.”

“Why don’t we take a brief walk down Bond Street after your appointment is concluded? That is, if you do not have other plans.”

Peter was stricken by the suggestion. Gabby could see that. He didn’t want her to be seen around London until Madame Carême supplied her with better clothing.

“It seems I am to be Madame Carême’s latest creation,” Gabby said lightly. “I would not wish to ruin her reputation by being seen in this gown before she has had a chance to transform me.”

Peter groaned silently, and Madame’s eyebrows flew up. “There is little chance that anyone would mistake your gown for one of mine,” she pointed out.

But the duchess looked understanding. “Surely it would not be amiss to take a brief drive in the park? If only because I have always had a foolish desire to see Calcutta, and I would love to hear your description of it.”

For Her Grace, it seemed, anything was possible—except the appearance of Gabby’s white dress in public. Within seconds Gabby had been whisked off to the inner recesses of Madame Carême’s establishment and stripped of her clothing by Madame’s assistants. They appeared to be somewhat surprised by Gabby’s lack of a corset.

“My father doesn’t believe in corsets,” Gabby explained. “He thinks that women ought be able to dress themselves.”

Madame shuddered at the thought. She stared at Gabby in the mirror. “We will try whalebones. I shall do my best,” she said rather despondently.

“I am certain that you will turn me into a pink of the ton,” Gabby said reassuringly.

“Nonsense—only gentlemen are pinks,” Madame responded. But she seemed to cheer up, and then she cocked her head and said, “Of course!” With a snap of her fingers she sent away a girl, who returned with a flimsy dress in a dusky-orange color.

“I made it for the countess of Redingale,” she confided. “But the silly girl is over a month late in requesting it. I believe that she overspent her allowance again. Giving the gown to you will teach her that she cannot trifle with the top modiste in London.”