But London was not the gem they had anticipated. Her sparkle had been dulled by the effects of an oncoming war, glued together with scrim tape and apprehension. Her shine was masked behind walls of sandbags and her soul unearthed to make way for shelters and trenches.

Such warnings were impossible to ignore.

In Drayton, where an attack was less likely, some preparations had been apparent. But there, the tape lining the windows had been idle amusement, and the greatest lurking fear was rationing rather than bombing. In London, such actions were done with blood-chilling necessity.

The evidence could be pushed aside temporarily, of course. Like when Grace and Viv entered Harrods for the first time and encountered the elaborate scrollwork along the ceilings, the Egyptian painted columns and exquisite fanning lights. The store went on as far as the fields in Drayton, each new department more exciting and elaborate than the last. There were silk scarves so fine, it felt like Grace was touching air, and perfumes set behind glittering glass counters that scented the air with an expensive musk.

The most fascinating by far was Pet Kingdom where Colin worked. The baby elephant he’d spent the night soothing now frolicked about in a pile of clean hay while a leopard cub raked its textured pink tongue over its pelt and watched them with curious green eyes.

“Imagine,” Grace said dreamily as they left the animals and drifted through the other departments. “You will soon work here as a shopper’s assistant.”

“And you’d be with me,” Viv whispered. “If you’d let me write you a letter of recommendation as well.”

Grace’s excitement wilted somewhat at the reminder of where she’d end up instead if Mr. Evans caved to Mrs. Weatherford. He seemed a brusque man in a store filled with wares she knew little about.

And yet she could not bring herself to present a false letter of recommendation. She’d never been good at lying, going all red about the face and tripping over her words. No doubt she’d fumble falsified information just as greatly. Still, she knew Viv wouldn’t let it drop unless given some sort of concession.

“Perhaps if no further opportunities are presented, I may reconsider,” Grace said slowly.

Viv’s face lit up. “Consider it done.”

“Only if no further opportunities are presented,” Grace repeated, suddenly hopeful Mrs. Weatherford might get her way with Mr. Evans.

But Viv had turned away to examine a pair of stockings and merely acknowledged Grace’s careful statement with a hum. Viv set the item aside, her hand splayed over its crinkly pink package.

“You know what we haven’t done yet?” She spun toward Grace with such enthusiasm, her green skirt flared out around her knees. “We haven’t gone to Hyde Park.”