"Who designs your clothes?" Chelsea asked while eyeing the gowns neatly stored inside Amelia's cabinet.
“I don’t really know. Miss Amanda was the one who talked to the dressmakers that went here," Amelia replied.
Chelsea nodded, delighted that Amelia is willing to answer all her questions. She went to the woman’s bedroom first thing in that rainy morning and started to look at the woman's things so she could get familiar with what her taste is. It would set as a basis for what gown they would choose for her wedding.
"Is that so?" Chelsea slips her fingers on every fabric. "This Miss Amanda, how was she as your companion?" She glanced at Amelia, sitting stiffly on her bed while hand sewing a skirt. “It intrigues me how she did her job considering her, you know, reputation.”
“She had bee
