“I would be delighted to help, Mr. Dunkirk.” The shop grew almost unbearably warm. “Though, I must assure you that Madame Beaulieu is a modiste of excellent merit. Miss Dunkirk is in safe hands, you may be certain.”

He nodded and looked somehow disappointed, so Jane continued, “But of course I shall be happy to share my own feeble opinions as well.”

“Thank you.” He gave a short bow. “I do not like to impose, but I would like for Beth’s first ball to be all that it may.”

“Her first ball?” Jane felt the enormity of the task all the more. “Is she not out yet?”

Mr. Dunkirk looked so grave for a moment that Jane quailed, wondering at her trespass. “No, Miss Ellsworth. This is to be her coming out. My mother has—” Here he broke off. “I beg your pardon. I do not wish to tire you with my family history.”

“No. The apology is mine. I should not have been so indelicate in my question. It hardly matters if a girl is out or not. I abhor the custom myself, but . . . well, let us consider what dress might suit her, shall we?”

During all of this conversation, Miss Elizabeth Dunkirk stood behind her brother, listening with silent attention. Her dark eyes were serious beyond her years, sharing some of the reserve of her brother. On her, the high forehead, which seemed so representative of nobility in Mr. Dunkirk, ended in the same glossy black mane, but curved in a more delicate manner, as if her thoughts were tempered by her femininity. Her bones were delicate and her skin as fair as the moon, with blue veins beating at her temples. There was about her an air of sadness, which left Jane most curious. And to be “not out” in a family of such consequence as the Dunkirks! It was most odd, but Jane would not pry for all the world by word or deed.

She offered Miss Dunkirk her arm and led her to a bolt of white lawn, the fabric most appropriate to a debutante. Then Jane suggested a deep green velvet which she thought might set off Miss Dunkirk’s hair to advantage. Jane tried to affect the graceful, easy carriage of her sister, but could scarcely be at ease, so conscious was she of Mr. Dunkirk’s presence. How had he come to have a good opinion of her taste? In the two years since Mr. Dunkirk had settled in the estate at Robinsford Abbey, she had never felt his notice of her to be beyond that of a neighbour, save for that one afternoon when she had been alone with him in their drawing room.

Jane held her breath as Miss Dunkirk fingered the rich cloth. When the girl agreed that it was very fine, some of the tension left Jane’s body. Between the two of them, they selected a lace which complemented the cloth as well. Jane found it much easier to imagine a dress for someone else than for herself. By the time Madame Beaulieu disengaged from her other customers to see to Miss Dunkirk, Jane had sketched out a plan for a gown which pleased the girl greatly.