The silence in Jenna's shop felt heavier with each passing second. I maintained my composure, waiting for her decision while Clara's face shifted between rage and panic. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
Finally, Jenna straightened her shoulders and turned to my stepsister. "Miss Beaumont, I must ask you and your companion to leave. The Duchess has requested private shopping time, and I intend to honor that."
Clara's mouth fell open. "You can't be serious! Do you know who I'm going to marry? The Marquess will hear about this insult!"
"Perhaps," Jenna replied calmly, "but the Duke and Duchess of Thorne are my customers today."
I kept my expression neutral, though inside I felt a small flicker of satisfaction. This wasn't about humiliating Clara—it was about standing my ground.
Clara stomped her foot. "You'll regret this! When I'm a Marchioness, I'll make sure everyone knows not to patronize your pathetic little shop!"
