Serena shrank from her even while Madame Roxana greeted her with toothy smiles and oily flattery.
Only the gowns fashioned by Yvette’s clever fingers were some compensation for those uncomfortable moments, and Serena knew that the latest creation, which she would wear this evening as instructed, transformed her.
There were silver stars on the gauze that covered the pale satin of the underskirt and there was a silver star in her hair. As she entered the drawing room, Serena saw several people glance at her and the Marchioness made a commanding gesture for her to come to her side.
There was a man standing beside her and Serena felt her heart sink. Here, she supposed, was yet another person who had been told about her money, yet another prospective suitor in the eyes of the Marchioness. Wi
