''Nonsense, Miss. I hope you will believe me when I tell you that you are the most beautiful young lady I have had the pleasure of fitting. Now, off with your clothes.''
Mrs. Richardson had changed from the nice motherly figure Isabella had thought her to be, into an ogre. Isabella didn't want to stand naked before her, but it seemed she had no choice. Slowly she peeled off layer upon layer of loose fitting clothing, until eventually she stood as naked as the moment she was born. She crossed her arms over her breasts and bent her pelvis back, hoping Mrs. Richardson didn't look at her most secret place.
''Really, Miss, I have no idea why you made such a fuss. Look at you, perfect. You have a great bust and such a tiny waist. I will be able to show you off as never before. Your bottom is delicate yet full and this gown will hug you and show you off perfectly. You seem to lack confidence, Miss Isabella, but you needn't. I have seen more naked women than I care to remember, probably well into the thousands, and you are in the top ten when it comes to figure shape. Now just stand there while I put this over your head.''
Harriet sat in the shop, watching people pass by the window. When Mrs. Richardson appeared, Harriet looked round eagerly. Isabella put her head around the door and looked to see if there was anybody else in the shop. When she saw there wasn't, she walked out of the fitting room and stood a couple of yards from Harriet.
''Oh, heavens. I'm going to cry,'' Harriet exclaimed. ''Mrs. Richardson, you are a genius. Isabella, you look stunning. Please do not wear those horrible baggy clothes ever again. In fact, Mrs. Richardson, please put the clothes she arrived here in today, into the dustbin. As well as this gown for the ball, we will take another two dresses for day wear.''
''But, Harriet, I can't possibly aff0rd...''
''Mrs. Richardson put all of them on my account please.''
''But, Harriet....''
''Do not argue. Now let me have a proper look at you.'' Harriet walked around Isabella and made her feel like a tailor's dummy. What Harriet saw was indeed a miraculous transformation. The gown was from satin and deep red. It was remarkably daring, and Harriet knew her brother's jaw would drop when he saw it. It had the shortest of sleeves, giving it the appearance of being sleeveless, and a décolleté that plunged into the deep valley between Isabella's breasts. Lower, the dress hugged her bottom, showing it to perfection, before blossoming into to a fuller shape. ''I really am going to weep,'' Harriet reaffirmed. ''It is more than stunning. When we get some jewelry on you, you will be a very dangerous woman indeed.''
Isabella smiled awkwardly. The dress made her feel strange. On the one hand feminine and seductive, on the other hand vulnerable.
****
''Harriet,'' the Duke shouted from his study, as he heard her giggling.
''Yes my Lord.'' Harriet went in to his study, stood next to his desk and stroked the dog that wandered up to her.
''Tell me, what has happened to Isabella?''
''What do you mean?''
''She looks different somehow. More like a young lady, less like an old aunt.''
''Ah,'' Harriet uttered. ''Isabella has been quite saddened recently by the fate of her father. I believe she fell into something of a depression and wore some less than flattering clothes for a period. It seems what you did for her father has improved her mood, no end. She obviously feels able to be her old self again. She does have the most amazing figure, doesn't she?'' Harriet smiled as she waited for her brother's answer.
''Yes, indeed she does. Quite a remarkable difference, I must say.''
Now Harriet was more convinced than ever her plan would work. Isabella much less so when she again saw the Duke with Miss Victoria. This time actually holding hands, not just walking arm in arm. Isabella prayed once again, that evening. This time she asked that her feelings would become more tolerable and that she'd be given the courage to wear the red gown with the dignity it commanded.
****
''Isabella, thank you for coming to help me. As you can see there are a number of options to choose from,'' the Duke said as Isabella looked down at the suits covering the sofa in his study.
''Indeed, there are a number of options, my Lord. Let me see, which one do you tend towards?''
''No idea,'' the Duke said unhelpfully.