Daisy grinned at him. “Then if you say so, so be it. I don’t know much about fashion, either, and will be guided by you.”

The earl sat back, looking pleased. The viscount’s midnight blue eyes were half shuttered. He looked bored, but then, Daisy thought, he usually did.

The blue gown and the silver one that came out after it were deemed suitable. The coral walking dress was roundly approved, but the green gown was frowned at. Though Daisy had loved it, she held her tongue. But when the model came out in the gold gown, Daisy actually sighed aloud, in appreciation. The gold cloth was sleek and tissue thin; every curve, every indentation on the model’s slender body showed. It was shocking, but even though the girl looked sensual, she also looked elegant, sophisticated, classical, like a Greek statue dipped in gold.

Daisy smiled when the earl said, “Why, that color ought to look good on you, Daisy!”

Before she could agree, the viscount spoke. “Yellow for Mrs. Tanner would work, yes,” he said lazily. “Not gold. And not in such thin ply. Much too daring for her. You don’t want to lie about her background, of course. But do you want to flaunt it?”

Daisy spun around to stare at him. She was insulted and indignant, even though she realized what he said might be true. Insult won out. “But if Geoff, I mean, if the earl likes it,” she declared, “it’s good enough for me. I’ll take it.”

Leland shrugged a shoulder.

“Really, Daisy, he’s the expert,” Geoff said.

“Well, if you think I’d look bad in it,” she said, “then I’ll change my mind.”

The earl’s face turned ruddy, but he nevertheless looked flattered. “I liked it, yes. Still, what do I know?”

“Enough for me,” she said firmly.

Leland’s eyebrow went up, but he mimed a slight bow to Daisy from where he sat. “Of course. Opinion’s a relative matter,” he said negligently. “The most important opinion is that of the person who’ll be wearing the gown; a dress made of spun silver would look bad if she didn’t believe in it. But if you believe your figure and your confidence is firm enough for the gold, why not? If you want it, Mrs. Tanner, so be it.”

Daisy didn’t answer. The mention of silver and gold turned her thoughts in unpleasant directions. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d ordered up four gowns, and yet hadn’t been told the price of one. That was bad trading, poor practice, and very foolish of her. Even her father would have frowned. Tanner would have… well, it was best not to think what he’d have done. Bad enough that realizing what she’d done took the joy out of the morning for her.

She’d been having a wonderful time until now. Mrs. Masters had told her to wear one of her best gowns to go to the dressmaker’s shop, and she’d laughed, thinking it ridiculous. But she was paying for that kind of knowledge and so had put on a tasteful long-sleeved violet walking dress she’d had made up especially for the trip to England.

She was glad she had after she got to the dressmaker’s shop. It didn’t even look like one. It was so luxurious, she felt more like she was paying a morning call on a fashionable lady of the ton than ordering new gowns. The place was furnished like a sitting room; the dressmaker was called a modiste and spoke with a French accent. There were comfortable couches to sit on, and she was given a little cup of dark coffee to drink. There were patterns to muse over; and lovely young women came out modeling the gowns for sale. And there hadn’t even been a sign above the door!

Everything had started off well this morning. The earl had complimented her on her good looks when he’d come to call for her in his elegant carriage. He’d met Helena Masters and roundly approved of her, Daisy could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Even the viscount had seemed impressed by her choice of companion.

Daisy had even found the viscount amusing, at first-until he’d turned dictatorial. She’d had enough of men ordering her around. In truth, she realized now, she’d been getting so angry at his increasingly domineering attitude that she’d have insisted on buying a dress made of paper if she’d seen one, if he’d disapproved.

She’d been lulled by all the luxury, but now worried, wondering if she could afford her new wardrobe, at least enough for her peace of mind.

“You know?” she said in a bright, tight, little voice. “I think I’ve bought enough for one day. So I won’t take the gold gown, after all. My goodness! I’ve never had so many new ones at once.”

“Oh?” the viscount purred. “So you don’t intend to go into Society?”

She stared at him.

“You’ve bought enough for one morning visit, one afternoon’s walk, one afternoon tea, and an evening soirée,” he explained. “That will do for one day. No one ever wears the same garment twice in a week.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, whispering in a fierce under voice, keeping one eye on the modiste to be sure the woman wouldn’t hear. “But do we have to get them all at the same place? I mean, we should shop around, see if there are some for sale at a better price… and perhaps,” she added, seeing his surprise and trying to make it sound like she meant something else all along, “we could find better styles as well.”

“Better than at Madame Bertrand’s?” he asked, amazed.

Mrs. Masters’s eyes widened. Daisy realized she’d made a mistake.

“I think,” the earl said, “what Daisy means is that she’s not used to buying so much, and certainly not at one place, without comparing prices. She’s just in the habit of being frugal.”

“Yes,” Daisy said in relief. “That’s it exactly.”

“Not a bad habit, either,” Leland said. “But not one we’re used to here in London.”

“Does that mean I have to squander my money to be accepted?” she asked angrily.

“It means you must never talk about money,” he said, holding up one long finger the way a teacher would if he called for silence. “But I will talk about money now, if only to tell you that many of the ladies who buy here don’t pay their bills for years, if ever. No one in the ton does.”

“Except you, Lee,” the earl said, smiling, “and me. Me, because I never want to be in debt for any reason. I’ve seen too many poor souls in prison because of it. And you, because you love to be contrary.”

“Thank you for noticing,” the viscount said, as he got to his feet and slowly uncoiled his long body. “I do try. But I also know that too many merchants who cater to the rich have to run their businesses like gamblers, and too often lose because of it. They think serving the nobility is good advertising, but what good does it do them if they only attract more rich spongers? The upper classes can be debtors because of the ever-present promise of their money, at least as shown by their inherited properties. But I think they really can do it because of all their friends in high places. If you own the legal system, you’re not likely to be bitten by it.”

“Very republican talk for a nobleman,” the earl commented, suppressing a smile.

“Yes, good that I’m not from across the Channel, isn’t it?” Leland agreed. “I’d have taken my last ride in a tumbrel years ago.”

“Of course,” the earl commented to a wide-eyed Daisy, “you know he may say the opposite tomorrow if it amuses him.”

“So I may,” Leland agreed. “Now, I’ll just have a word with madame, and then we’ll have luncheon, shall we?”

“Yes,” the earl said, “and tell her to have at least one gown made up and ready to go by tomorrow evening.”

Leland stopped and looked at his friend curiously.

“We want to take Daisy to the theater, don’t we?” the earl asked.

“Do we?” Leland answered, as though fascinated.

“Well, I do,” the earl said. “Sad stuff to sit around a hotel room while all London is amusing itself outside your window, but you don’t know the city enough to venture out on your own. In Daisy’s case, it’s even worse, because she can’t go anywhere at night by herself.”

“Indeed,” Leland said expressionlessly. “I’m to be included in all this merrymaking, am I?”

“If you’d be so kind,” the earl said. “You know London better than I do.”

“So I do,” Leland said, bowed, and strolled away.

Daisy watched as he sauntered over to talk with the dressmaker. He was so tall and thin, she’d have thought he’d be awkward, but he moved with the same lazy, effortless grace he spoke with. Today he was dressed in black and dark gray, except for a splash of crimson in his waistcoat. The gentlemen she’d seen in fashion plates were tidy men, neat and precise. He was much too tall, thin, and careless for fashion, but he was Fashion. It still amazed her.

He spoke with the modiste, and Daisy’s eyes narrowed as she saw him amble over to the model wearing the gold gown she’d wanted. He stopped and smiled down at the woman. For one mad moment, Daisy thought he was going to arrange to buy the gown for her, as an apology for how disagreeable he’d been about it.

The model was tall and slender, but she still had to look up at the viscount. She was striking, with classical features. Her sleek black hair was pulled back tightly in a bun, as all the models’ were, so as not to interfere with the presentation of the gown, or so the viscount had said.

The earl rose to his feet, too, so Daisy did as well, but she kept her eyes on the viscount. As she watched, she saw him lift one long white hand and run the back of it lightly across the model’s cheek in a careless caress as he whispered to her. He’d been right. The material of the gold gown was thin. Daisy couldn’t help but notice that the nipples on the model’s small, pointed breasts rose in peaks when he touched her cheek. She’d bet they weren’t talking about his purchasing the gown.

She was confused. It wasn’t really an intimate gesture; it couldn’t be, especially coming from a man like Viscount Haye. But it suddenly seemed like one. She frowned.