Free Why Dukes Say I Do by Manda Collins

and preparing for the excitement of her first season. Instead she was stuck here in the country. And if their guests that morning were any indication, there was little enough to recommend the local society hereabouts. “Why shouldn’t you?”
    “For one thing,” Eleanor said glumly, “Trevor would never let me wear something so daring. He doesn’t even like it when I wear my hair up. Though I have tried to tell him that I am no longer a child.”
    “Like me,” Belinda said matter-of-factly. “She thinks it’s ever so lowering to be childish. But I think it’s lovely.”
    Isabella suppressed a laugh. “Why is that?”
    “Because I don’t have to do grown-up things. Like dress for dinner and visit with those horrid ladies from the village. I’d much rather spend my time with Flossie and her kittens.”
    “That’s because you are still a child, Belinda,” her sister said haughtily. “You’ll understand when you’re my age.”
    “I doubt it,” Belinda said, spinning around on the vanity stool.
    “Your brother is likely right about that particular gown,” Isabella said, indicating the deep blue silk that Eleanor was admiring. “But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to try one of the others. Sanders is quite handy with a needle. I’m a good bit taller than you, but otherwise we are of a size, I think. She should be able to alter it to fit.”
    Whirling, Eleanor stared at Isabella, her eyes wide. “Do you mean it? I should love that above all things! And do you suppose she would dress my hair for me?”
    Feeling like a fairy godmother, Isabella grinned. “I think that could be arranged.”
    “But what about our painting?” Belinda demanded. “I know precisely what vista I wish to capture.”
    Both Eleanor and Isabella turned guiltily to the younger girl.
    “What if I promise that we will spend tomorrow painting outdoors?” Isabella asked, seeing Eleanor’s guilty look. Clearly she’d forgotten about the original reason for going to Isabella’s rooms.
    Belinda heaved a sigh. “I suppose that would be acceptable. But only if you both agree to the location I choose for our expedition.”
    Suspecting that she would regret the promise, Isabella did so anyway. As did Eleanor.
    “Thank you, Bel.” She gave her sister an impulsive hug. “You are a good sister.”
    “I am an excellent sister,” the younger girl said with asperity. “Now, let’s look at these gowns.”
    The three began sorting through Isabella’s wardrobe, searching for which gowns best suited Eleanor’s fair hair and skin. And more than once Isabella had to steer her away from gowns that were either far too immodest or far too daring in color for so young a lady. Isabella would hardly miss the gowns, given that she bought far more each season than she could ever wear, but even she knew that there were some risks that young ladies should steer clear of. Especially while buried in the country. What might pass for fashionable in London could sometimes be seen as inappropriate among the more sedate fashions of a country village.
    Finally they settled on three dresses that were modest enough to keep from scandalizing the local ladies but fashionable enough to suit the inclinations of Eleanor to throw off her childhood frocks and dress her age. The first was a primrose muslin that Isabella had never quite felt right wearing. It seemed far too young for a widow, and when she saw Eleanor in it she knew that she’d been right. Its puffed sleeves and sweetheart neckline were perfection on the younger lady, and Isabella was pleased to note that it looked far better on Eleanor than it ever had on her.
    “This one, definitely,” she pronounced as the girl spun before the mirror. “It needs only to be hemmed a bit and it will be just right for you.”
    “You look like a fairy princess, Ellie!” Belinda, who had not been particularly interested in their quest for gowns, had slowly been won over as she saw her sister’s