My Bratty Wife

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the window as Madame Helena meticulously took Suzy’s measurements. Swathes of silks and satins lay draped across the chaise lounge, whispering promises of elegance and grandeur.

Finally, after a flurry of measuring and sketching, Madame Helena straightened up, a satisfied glint in her eyes. "There, Duchess," she said, her voice a purr of confidence. "I believe I have a good understanding of your vision. Tell me, do you have a particular color or style in mind for your ball gown?"

Suzy pondered for a moment, picturing herself amidst the whirling lights and festive ambience of the ball. "Something that reflects the spirit of the season," she mused aloud. "Perhaps a vibrant emerald green, with a touch of flowing elegance that allows for movement."

Madame Helena nodded in agreement. "Emerald green, excellent," she declared. "It will complement your complexion beautifully. As for the style, I’m thinking something with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt, perhaps with a hint of cascading ruffles."

Suzy felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her. Madame Helena’s words painted a picture that surpassed even her own imagination. "That sounds perfect, Madame Helena," she agreed, her voice brimming with anticipation.

With a flurry of activity, Madame Helena gathered her tools and sketches. "Then consider it settled, Duchess," she said crisply. "I’ll work through the night, and your gown will be delivered first thing on the morning of the third day."

Suzy expressed her gratitude profusely. Having Madame Helena’s expertise at her disposal was a weight lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you, Madame Helena," she said sincerely. "You’re a lifesaver."

The modiste smiled, a rare expression on her usually serious face. "It’s my pleasure, Duchess," she replied. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must return to my work and ensure your vision is brought to life."

With that, Madame Helena swept out of the room, leaving Suzy alone with Doris, who had been a silent observer throughout the whole ordeal. Suzy let out a relieved sigh, sinking onto the chaise lounge.

Doris stepped forward, a subtle question lurking in her eyes. "Dinner, Milady?" she inquired, her brow furrowed. "Would you prefer to dine in your chambers or the dining room?"

Suzy, momentarily distracted by the flurry of activity of the day, hadn’t even considered dinner. "The dining room," she began, then hesitated. "Actually, Doris," she continued, "will the Duke be joining me?"