Juliana Read Free

from the Foundling Hospital. “So you need to make thirty frocks?”
    “Yes.” The girl was articulate and good with arithmetic. “And thirty caps, thirty nightshirts, ten mantles, ten coats, ten petticoats, twenty blankets, and a hundred clouts. All within a month, before the next reception day.”
    Juliana set the list on her dressing table. Upside down, so it would stop taunting her. Whatever had she got herself into? She’d been thrilled when the Governors accepted her offer to provide clothing for the next intake of infants—until she’d realized just how many clothes she’d need to make.
    She wasn’t worried about the cost of the materials, because she could easily cajole Griffin into paying for whatever her allowance wouldn’t cover. But the mere idea of making so many items was daunting. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”
    Emily frowned. “I’m not very good with a needle.”
    “You can hem blankets and sew clouts. That’s not difficult, and it will be good practice.” Reaching over the girl’s snake, Juliana wiped a few spice cake crumbs off her delicate chin. “I’m going to invite my sisters to help, too. We’ll have a lovely sewing party.” She dipped a finger into the lip pomade. “But I think you’ll need to leave Herman at home.”
    “I told you, he’s not dangerous.”
    “His danger, or lack thereof,” she told the child, watching her in the dressing table’s mirror as she slicked pomade on her lips, “is not the point. Ladies do not keep company with snakes.”
    Emily’s chin went into the air. “I do.” She adjusted the reptile’s position around her neck, the better to reach for another spice cake. “What are these cakes supposed to do again?”
    “Help me choose the right gentleman to wed.”
    “All the gentlemen will want to wed you. You always look beautiful,” Emily said with a wistful sigh.
    Juliana lifted a pot of rouge. “You’ll look beautiful when you’re grown up.”
    It was true. Other than her unfortunate taste in neckwear, the child was a model of femininity. She always wore pink. Her cascading blond hair and large, luminous gray eyes held much promise, and she was tall for her age. Since Juliana was small in stature, Emily was nearly her height already.
    “I’m certain you’ll be wildly popular,” she assured the girl, “if only you’ll get rid of the snake.”
    “I’ll not give him up. Mama would be so disappointed.”
    Juliana sighed. When Emily was four years old, she and her mother had stumbled upon baby Herman while playing in their garden. Her mother had suggested they keep the critter and watch him grow; then, the very next day, she took ill, and she’d faded away very quickly. Emily had clung to Herman ever since.
    Having lost her own mother less than three years prior, Juliana felt for the girl deeply. But she also felt that her pretty little neighbor’s alarming companion was beginning to cause a disturbance, especially among those who would turn their noses up at such unconventional behavior.
    Thank goodness Juliana was here to take the situation in hand.
    “Your mother would understand,” she told her gently. “Surely she only intended to keep Herman while he was small. Why, he must be five feet long now, much too big to stay cooped up inside the house all day—much less carried about on your shoulders. Don’t you think the poor creature would be happier outside?”
    “Herman isn’t a creature. He’s a pet .”
    “A cuddly kitten is a pet. A rambunctious dog is a pet. A snake is a—”
    “Are you ready yet?” Corinna arrived in the doorway and smirked. “A Lady of Distinction doesn’t hold with wearing rouge.”
    Juliana’s threw a sour glance to the book on her bedside table, The Mirror of the Graces by A Lady of Distinction. Their brother had given each of his sisters a copy, hoping that learning fashionable manners would help them secure husbands.
    “A Lady of Distinction can keep her sallow cheeks,” Juliana