Before Bronwynner could say anything, the assistants rushed in and removed the dress borrowed from Countess Windell—her original clothes had been deeply hidden in the closet as her employer hated them terribly.

The scene itself wasn’t unfamiliar, as Baroness Bingham occasionally summoned a dressmaker to fit a new evening gown.

However, experiencing it herself was utterly embarrassing. Suddenly reduced to wearing only a corset and petticoat, Bronwynner surrendered herself to the coordinated hands of the three women.

One assistant clicked her tongue while measuring Bronwynner’s chest with a tape measure.

“My goodness, that dress must have made it hard for you to breathe.”

The fact that Countess Windell didn’t react to this comment showed that the countess was a born lady. With Maude constantly circling around and interfering, Bronwynner became even more flustered.

“Is Lady Devon’s waist even smaller than this, Madame Floss?”

“Is Lady Celestine’s bosom really that amazing?”

“Maude, you shouldn’t say such things.”

Countess Windell, looking mortified, admonished her. Madame Floss was surprisingly unconcerned.

“My job is to highlight my clients’ charms and hide their weaknesses. When Lady Maude Lovedale comes to me for a dress, I’ll make her a sparrow-colored herringbone dress.”

That meant Maude was as cute and noisy as a sparrow. The indignant girl asked,

“If I’m a sparrow, what about Miss Pemberton?”

“……A parrot?”

When Bronwynner questioned back, the women chuckled.

“Miss Pemberton is a poppy.”

“I was thinking of a May rose.”

That comment came because of her bright red hair. When Madame Floss untied the ribbon holding her hair, her long, curly locks flowed down over her white shoulders, arms, and slender back.

“This needs some trimming.”

“Should we cut it?”

Bronwynner asked. Her voluminous hair was difficult to secure when twisted up due to its thickness.

“No!”

Maude screamed. The madame also shook her head.

“Don’t cut it. Cutting such glossy and luscious hair would be a sin.”

After the assistants had meticulously measured the length and circumference of her neck, shoulders, chest, waist, hips, and limbs, they helped her dress again.

“Is it all over now……?”

The madame gave a light snort. Just as Bronwynner was about to ask what that meant—

From outside the door, Seth announced,

“Ladies, Lord Crimsworth has arrived.”

* * *

The moment the door opened, conversation stopped abruptly and tension descended.

Jeremy walked unconcernedly into the center of the inner room.

Normally, employees don’t appreciate their employer barging in while they’re working. But one shouldn’t neglect the role of an employer just to please them. That was his principle.

“Lady Havilland.”

He first greeted Countess Windell politely.

“Miss Pemberton.”

Next, he spoke to Maude.

“Maude, Miss Jenkins was looking for you.”

Miss Jenkins was Maude’s governess who had recently also become Bronwynner’s etiquette teacher. Maude didn’t seem to want to leave, but knowing she couldn’t win against her brother, she finally gave a prim greeting and withdrew.

He sat down crookedly in a chair.

“Madame Floss. Please continue with what you were doing.”

The madame bowed her head and had her assistants bring the fabrics and dress samples piled in one corner of the room. One assistant presented a catalog to him with both hands.

When he decided to send a woman with a nanny background to a place like the Whitman Bride Training School, he had a plan in place. The qualities of a noble young lady that Bronwynner was so concerned about could be learned with time. More important and harder to acquire were the innate elegance and graceful bearing that came from childhood—even those could be covered to some extent by means at his disposal.

Meanwhile, Bronwynner stood still, staring intently over his shoulder. She seemed uncomfortable meeting his gaze directly.

“Miss Pemberton.”

The olive-colored eyes turned toward him.

“……Yes.”

“How are the preparations for entering the school coming along?”

She opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. Then she looked toward Countess Windell. The countess answered on her behalf.

“Thanks to you, they’re going very well, Lord Crimsworth. Miss Pemberton has a remarkable talent for singing. You should come see her music lessons sometime.”

This wasn’t particularly surprising. A nanny would have to sing lullabies to children; if she made sounds like a squealing pig, she wouldn’t qualify as a nanny.

“I’ll do that.”

He replied to Countess Windell. Bronwynner was doing reasonably well at following his instruction to smile quietly as if minimal knowledge and refinement were her only pride.

……No, ‘barely’.

He immediately revised his assessment of her job performance. As soon as the brief conversation ended, she erased the forced smile she had put on and returned to her stiff, businesslike attitude.

One assistant held a dress sample up to Bronwynner.

“This is an outdoor dress made of velvet. It comes as a set with this bonnet.”

Madame Floss explained.

“Deep green would suit Miss Pemberton.”

The madame held the deep green velvet under Bronwynner’s face. This deepened the color of her olive eyes, and a creamy luster appeared on her previously pale skin.

Next came samples of day dresses and fabric with black and beige stripes. The color suited her well, but the pattern didn’t appeal to Jeremy. She was already thin, and wearing something like that would make her look like a bare branch.

“Lord Crimsworth, doesn’t it please you? This is the latest fashion.”

Madame Floss perceptively asked. He addressed Bronwynner again.

“How does it look to you, Miss Pemberton?”

Bronwynner lowered her eyes.

“If it pleases Lord Crimsworth, I’ll take this one.”

Countess Windell looked satisfied. It was the model answer.

However, he felt somehow displeased. Bronwynner hadn’t smiled, and her tone didn’t sound like that of a young lady who had seized a great fortune. If this woman couldn’t properly act the part of the Duke of Crimsworth’s ward, he had no reason to spend that money to employ her.

“Miss Pemberton. I think you’re misunderstanding something.”

He put down the catalog.

“I am your guardian, not your fiancé.”

Her face flushed. This looked better. Although he had instructed Mrs. Langley to ensure that Miss Pemberton ate three proper meals a day, she still looked pale.

“I know that too.”

“If you know, then give a better answer.”

She tried to take a deep breath discreetly, but it was impossible while wearing Countess Windell’s dress that fit tightly around the chest.

“……Would you kindly share your esteemed opinion, Lord Crimsworth?”

He turned his gaze toward the window. The inner room’s window faced the side of the mansion rather than the front, and through the glass, only barren rose bushes without even new buds could be seen. His lips opened.

“If you wore that and stood over there, you’d be perfectly camouflaged.”

Madame Floss quickly moved the striped fabric out of his sight.

Bronwynner said,

“Then you should keep your windows well closed at night, Lord Crimsworth.”

“Windows……?”

“If that pattern is the latest fashion, someone in camouflage might soon target Your Grace’s life from outside the window.”

Now she didn’t avoid his gaze, and her previously hunched shoulders were straight. It was a remarkably witty response for a pretty fool. But it didn’t matter since fools wouldn’t properly understand anyway.

So when the assistants draped ivory muslin around her, Jeremy nodded without even looking properly. Seeing him smile, Madame Floss made another fuss.

“White muslin is popular because it makes the face look clean, but this color can only be pulled off by someone with such fine skin.”

If it had been white, Bronwynner’s face would have been the brightest among women who chose white muslin. The ivory color, on the other hand, not only highlighted her fine skin but also harmonized well with her red hair, giving her a slightly warmer glow than before—like the color of white rose petals in full bloom under the midday summer sun.

Satin, silk, lace, chiffon, and pearl gauze wrapped around Bronwynner in succession and then fell away. He could see her becoming increasingly overwhelmed, and as she did, the madame’s praise grew more extravagant.

This is the only boutique in all of Lennox that can prepare the finest products suitable for such a pretty young lady in just two days; the large sum His Grace the Duke paid would be equivalent to the cost of holding a royal banquet for three days, but it will be well worth it; the tears of young ladies who couldn’t become debutantes this season because their reservations were delayed due to Miss Pemberton’s seventeen new dresses would flow like a river in front of Whittingham Palace…..

Finally, even Jeremy was tired of her verbal torrent.

Hearing about the cost, Bronwynner’s face lost its vitality again. He already anticipated what she was about to say.

“Lord Crimsworth, this is too generous for me—”

“What did I say earlier?”

Whether it’s elegance or vulgar habits, what becomes ingrained in a person shows on the outside. Unless one goes around n*ked, the body where character is ingrained would be clothed. And in this world, there were far more people who equated excellent character with high-quality clothing than those who could distinguish between them.

When one wears overwhelmingly splendid and expensive clothes compared to others, the person also appears more precious.

Camouflage isn’t only worn when hiding among rose bushes to target His Grace the Duke’s life. The expensive clothes from Floss that he had invested in were precisely the camouflage that Bronwynner Howard would always wear at the Whitman Bride Training School.

Indeed, Bronwynner was a clever woman.

“Your Grace is not my fiancé but my guardian.”

“Then, what should Miss Pemberton say?”

For the time being, it would be enough for her to play the role of a pretty fool in fancy clothes, but a clever woman who knew how to pretend to be a pretty fool would be even better.

He rested his chin on the armrest and listened to Bronwynner’s greeting.

“……I am grateful for Lord Crimsworth’s generosity.”

“Generosity, nonsense.”

He smiled.

“Only by stripping away that cheap look can I save face as the Duke of Crimsworth.”

Whittingham society was as fierce and ruthless as a battlefield, and the former Marchioness Whitman had once been a hero on that battlefield. The Bride Training School she had established to pass on the hero’s position to her granddaughter Devon would inevitably be a microcosm of Whittingham society.

Therefore, a woman who tears up over something like this doesn’t deserve to enter that school. That was what he thought as he saw the barely visible moisture in those olive eyes.

Nevertheless, the woman who bit her lip and managed to force out an answer had considerable tenacity.

“I’ll try to shed that cheap look as soon as possible, Lord Crimsworth.”

* * *