On Savile Row, Charlotte was busily working on her orders.
In the past, though there had been the occasional customer bringing in paper dolls to order custom outfits, the workload had never been as overwhelming as it was now. Overnight, it seemed as if everyone had discovered that paper doll clothes could be custom-made. After the dolls were marked with the name and address of Worth's Tailor Shop, carriage after carriage arrived on Savile Row, carrying ladies who poured into the shop as if they trusted no other place.
Naturally, Worth's couldn't handle such a massive volume of orders alone. As a result, small tailors like Charlotte got a chance to profit. While each order didn't yield much in the way of earnings, the sheer volume added up, and business had clearly improved. Driven by profit, the once loosely formed "Anti-Worth Tailors' Alliance" quickly collapsed. Though the tailors still grumbled, their actions betrayed their words—they headed straight to Worth's to pick up commissions.
After all, how could anyone turn away a paying job?
Having just finished her current work, Charlotte rushed to Worth's to hand it in and hopefully pick up a new order.
As soon as she entered the shop, she found it buzzing with ladies and excitement. The large illustration of a gown in the shop window caught everyone's attention, stopping passersby in their tracks.
The gown was breathtakingly beautiful, especially the sleeves that resembled blooming flower buds. Charlotte only needed a single glance to know that such craftsmanship was far beyond her capabilities. Not to mention the beadwork—each bead had to be hand-sewn, and there were so many that the fabric would be weighed down. Without high-quality material with strong support, the fabric would likely tear after a few wears.
Judging by the illustration, the fabric appeared to be tulle, which only added to the challenge. Everyone knew that gauzy materials were delicate and required extra care during production.
In any case, facing such a gown, Charlotte wouldn't dare accept a commission, no matter how bold she felt. Worth's Tailor Shop's capabilities were undeniable—tailoring was, after all, a craft based on skill.
Receiving a new order—more simple dress designs Charlotte was already adept at—she couldn't resist chatting with the staff member handing out commissions. "It's really lively in here today."
"It sure is," the staff member replied, clearly glad to take a break for a moment. "They all want the gown we've displayed in the window."
"Aren't they worried about showing up in the same dress?" another tailor asked curiously—a new face who seemed new to the scene. "That kind of gown must take forever to make. If they order now, won't it be too late to wear it?"
"They usually request slight customizations," the staff member answered with a polite smile. "Like changing the color or the pattern. They're obsessed with those sleeves, and as for the beading patterns—those can be customized too."
"And of course, if they order now, they won't get it right away," the staff sighed. "A gown like that would take at least a month to finish, especially with good tailors being in short supply. That's why they're all crowding in—to get their names at the top of the list."
No wonder the shop was so packed—it was a race to secure a top spot on the priority list.
Charlotte glanced at the new tailor, then hesitantly asked, "I don't think I've seen you before. Are you also here to pick up commissions?"
"Yes," the new tailor replied with a smile. "My shop is on Bond Street. I came to take a look after seeing the Helen paper doll trade card."
Bond Street, also located in Mayfair, wasn't far from Savile Row. Charlotte had heard a bit about the tailors there—they had a reputation for being more innovative and avant-garde, in contrast to the traditional, conservative style of Savile Row. Their clientele was also more diverse.
She hadn't expected a Bond Street tailor to come here for commissions. Still, the extra help was welcomed, and the staff member was more than happy to cooperate. She pulled out a hefty catalog and opened it. "Take a look and let us know what styles you're good at making."
Charlotte was familiar with this catalog—it featured enlarged images of paper dolls and card patterns, all dramatically impressive. One particular SR-card dress was stunning in its intricate detail. The catalog seemed specially printed, likely by the very factory that produced the paper dolls.
Compared to the tiny paper dolls customers held in their hands, the images in the catalog were much clearer and more detailed. The Bond Street tailor was in awe. "You even have the earlier editions in here! That red and green dress card is so rare these days."
The staff member lifted her chin proudly—without the right connections, it would be impossible to get a copy of this catalog.
"I can't even imagine owning every outfit in this book," the Bond Street tailor said dreamily. "If I did, I'd be the happiest, most confident, outgoing little girl ever."
Charlotte, too, let her imagination soar. "Yes, these dresses aren't just clothes anymore—they're more like…"
If she were in the 21st century, she might've said "merch," but in this era, she couldn't find the right words to describe it.
"We do have plans for that," the staff member said with a mysterious wink. "When things settle down a bit and we have more time, we want to make all the clothes from the paper dolls. One of the ladies we work with even suggested we hold an exhibition."
"Oh my!" Charlotte had never heard about such a plan before. "If that exhibition really happens, I'd definitely go."
But looking around at the shop's current busyness, turning all the catalog's designs into real clothes felt like a distant dream. After a brief exchange, Charlotte quickly left with her fabric and returned to her own shop.
To her surprise, her regular customer Nancy was already waiting there.
"Hi!" Nancy greeted her, holding up a card. "I'd like to order this dress."
Charlotte was a little surprised. Since Helen paper dolls had declared Worth's as their official tailor, her own custom orders had dropped. "Ah, I thought…"
"You thought I'd go to Worth's?" Nancy interrupted with a laugh. She had actually gone to Worth's earlier but found it overcrowded and wasn't sure if the pricing was within her budget. All she wanted was a simple dress—though the ruffled hem was a bit tricky, it wasn't something she could sew herself. "I trust your skills."
Warmth surged in Charlotte's chest. She nodded repeatedly. "I'll make it a priority."
She decided to put Nancy's order at the top of her list.
Elena, on the other hand, had no concerns about order lists. She didn't need that many dresses just yet—but for her upcoming countryside vacation, she would need some rural-style day dresses, as well as formal evening gowns.
Mrs. Campbell had already thought ahead and ordered clothes for her. As expected, whenever her father and brother returned, they would likely head to the Campbell estate to spend the summer as usual.
That day, Elena finally finished writing the second half of 'A Strange Journey in a Dream'. While mailing her manuscript to Mr. Herman, she happened to notice a newspaper article announcing the completion of the wax museum renovations—including the addition of a new vampire-themed exhibit. The timing lined up. She was struck by inspiration and wrote a letter to the Duke of Berkeley, asking about the wax museum's progress.
"The results have been tremendous," the Duke raved in his reply, praising Elena's brilliant concept. "I invited several friends to experience it, including the Earl of Norman—yes, the one you met last time."
"Want to guess how he reacted?" Elena sighed when she read this, recalling the earl's reaction to the ghost tour. "Do I even need to guess?"
What she hadn't expected was that the Duke and the Earl even had the kind of relationship where one could invite the other to such things. One was a vampire, the other a monster-hunter working for the Inquisition. Didn't Berkeley worry Norman might see through his true identity?
Or perhaps it was exactly because of their roles that Berkeley intentionally befriended Norman to gather insider information? Thinking about it, the club had shut down suspiciously quickly—he really did seem well-informed.
As for his writing, Berkeley actually had a flair for it. His descriptions of the wax museum's layout closely followed Elena's vision. Then he detailed how his "friends" reacted to the vampire exhibit.
"At first, they remained calm, even mocking the setup," Berkeley wrote vividly. "But once the candles went out and the vampire's gaze locked onto them, they were startled, reaching out to prod the statues. Luckily, the room went dark again quickly."
"When the lifelike wax figures started moving toward them, even though their rational minds told them it was all fake, they were still scared out of their wits."
Some screamed and ran; others ditched their friends to escape. Every detail leapt off the page.
Among them, the Earl of Norman stood out. He remained perfectly still, eyes sharp, completely unfazed by the terrifying atmosphere.
"When the rest of us ran away," Berkeley wrote, laughter practically seeping through the ink, "Norman still stood there motionless. Only after we shouted his name repeatedly did he finally snap out of his deep thoughts."
Elena muttered, "You little menace…" imagining how his friends probably wanted to strangle him afterward.
To make amends, Berkeley had to treat everyone to a meal, which ended the wax museum visit on a not-so-perfect note. His friends swore they'd never return.
"Thank you so much," Berkeley wrote at the end, teasingly. "It's all thanks to you. If not for you, I might never have seen their terrified faces. I've decided to paint every expression they made, and when I sell the portraits, all proceeds will go to you—as a token of gratitude."
Elena: …
She had only one thing to say: 'Be careful out there.'