She’d found herself in this lovely shop, wanting to thank the woman for the veil she’d worn on her wedding. Before she knew it, she also had a pair of new gloves, as hers were worn right through. “The veil was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was the most pleasant surprise, and I cannot thank you enough for having it ready for the wedding.” “That husband of yours paid me well to ensure it was the only concern this shop had. Also told me that it was important to you. Who am I to argue with a man in love?” the proprietress said with a teasing tone. “But my daughter should get more credit, no? She has a fine eye with lace and wanted it to be the best of her work.” The shop owner spoke with a slight accent—either she worked at covering it, or she’d been in England for a long time. She’d guess the woman to be French by the way she rolled her r’s when she addressed Amelia. The woman was older, maybe in her forties, with blonde hair that grayed at the temples and swept back into her chignon.
