“Yes,” Emm said. “And we need time to order clothes. George will need a wedding dress.”

“And the rest,” Aunt Agatha added. “A trousseau fit for a duchess.”

George didn’t like the sound of that.

“I’ll speak to my dressmaker, Hortense—” Aunt Agatha continued.

“No,” George said. She’d met Hortense once, and hadn’t liked her a bit. Toplofty, more snobbish even than Aunt Agatha, and her clothes might be very elegant but in George’s opinion they were old lady clothes. “I’ll get everything I need from Miss Chance.” Daisy Chance was nice, and George felt comfortable with her. And Daisy had a way of making clothes that exactly suited their wearer.

When George had first come to London, she’d been still getting used to wearing dresses. The idea of ball dresses and morning dresses and carriage dresses and evening dresses and all the other kind of dresses was quite overwhelming to a girl who hadn’t even owned a dress until a few months before. But Miss Chance had understood, and had even made her some special breeches that George could wear under her dresses so that she didn’t feel so naked and exposed. Dresses were drafty.

Aunt Agatha sniffed. “That common little Cockney can’t possibly outfit a duchess. She would have no idea where to start.”

“She can practice on me, then—”

“Don’t be ridic—”

“Miss Chance has done very well by all of us,” Emm interjected calmly. “I see no reason why George should not continue to patronize her for her wedding dress and trousseau. So that’s settled.”

Aunt Agatha looked as though she’d swallowed a lemon, but she didn’t argue. One didn’t argue with the woman about to give birth to the Ashendon Heir.

Lord help Emm if she had a girl.

“I’ll come with you to see Miss Chance, dear,” Aunt Dottie offered. “I have a mind to order some garments from her too. Something a little special. We’ll have fun together, won’t we, George?”

George grinned. “Thanks, Aunt Dottie, that’d be lovely.”

George could see Aunt Agatha was wrestling with herself. She’d rather sit in a puddle than be seen entering the House of Chance, but she also didn’t want to hand over the serious business of Clothing a Future Duchess to her frivolous younger sister. Anyone who would describe such an important task as “fun” was clearly not to be trusted.

Emm settled it. “Thank you, Aunt Dottie. That will be perfect. It’s a shame that Lily and Rose are both out of town at the moment. I know they’d love to go shopping with you. I wish I could go myself, but . . .” She gestured to her swollen belly and sighed. “I hope it won’t be long now. I’m so sick of feeling like a caged elephant.”