“Oh,” I said, faltering slightly. “I don’t actually know their name.”
“That’s quite all right,” she reassured me with a kind smile. “That’s actually common here. Many clients come in knowing which celebrities we’ve worked with but not the name of the tailor themselves. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, that’s kind of the situation,” I admitted, my nerves showing. “I’m looking for the person who makes clothes for Alexander Black.”
Her cheerful demeanor faltered for a fraction of a second. “Ah,” she said cautiously. “I’m not sure I can help you there. He’s very selective about his clientele and books up weeks—sometimes months—in advance. For a walk-in client…”
“This is Alexander Black’s fiancée, Ella Rowan,” Elizabeth interjected, her voice firm.
The woman froze, her face pali
