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Chapter Ten
Margaret put the short veil over her head, peeking through it, with wide, saucy eyes. “How do I look?”
Patricia quietly laughed at her younger sister, who was stalking around Mrs. Ernestine Hedley’s fitting room like a restless panther, poking her nose into jars of buttons and unrolling skeins of ribbon. Now she had taken it into her head to bedeck herself in the silver lace veil that their mother had chosen for Patricia.
“Margaret,” admonished Lady Hunter, taking the veil off her younger daughter’s head, and placing it carefully on the back of a chair. “Do behave yourself. This is a very important fitting. It is not every day that your older sister is being fitted for her wedding gown, after all.”
Margaret rolled her eyes extravagantly, before sinking into the chair, a mutinous expression on her face. “How much longer? I declare I shall simply die of boredom.”
“Not much longer now, my sweet,” said Mrs. Hedley, her mouth tight with pins, as she adjusted a sleeve on Patricia’s right arm. “Just a few more adjustments and then you may see the bride in all her glory.”
Patricia gazed at the dressmaker. She was working exceptionally fast; much faster than she normally did. But then, her mother was paying her almost twice her usual rate to get the gown finished in time for the wedding. As soon as she had arisen this morning and entered the dining room to break her fast, her mother had told her she had already sent a note to Mrs. Hedley, requesting an urgent morning appointment.
It had all been a whirlwind after that. The carriage had been brought around and they were at Bond Street in record time. They had already been to the florist to order the bouquets and the cobblers to order the shoes, even before they set foot inside the dressmaker’s shop. And now, her wedding gown was almost fitted. Mrs. Hedley would take it to her head seamstress after they left and promised it would be delivered by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.
“A very quick wedding,” quipped the dressmaker now, glancing slyly at Patricia. “You and your bridegroom must be deliriously in love, my Lady.”
“Why wait?” said Lady Hunter quickly. “The Duke of Merriweather proposed and wishes to make my daughter his own as speedily as possible.” She laughed merrily. “Lady Patricia’s father and I hardly wish to stand in the way of young love, Mrs. Hedley.”
“Indeed,” said the dressmaker, arching her eyebrows. “Most commendable, Lady Hunter.” She glanced at Patricia’s waistline, her eyes appraising. “We all know that it is love alone that makes a man so…eager. I am sure you shall be very happy, Lady Patricia.”
Patricia felt her cheeks turning pink. She knew exactly what the dressmaker was inferring. But then, she should have expected this. It was unusual to be married so quickly and most of the time it was for one of three reasons: the fact that a lady was already with child, she wished to avoid a scandal, or the coupleweretruly head over heels in love and felt they simply could not wait. Most of the time, it was because of the first two reasons.
She exhaled slowly, as she felt panic rise within her chest. No one knew about what had happened in her drawing room yesterday morning. Her mother had made very sure that all the servants would not breathe a word of it, under threat of instant dismissal with no reference. But besides that, Patricia knew that their servants were loyal. Most had been with the family for years.
But that didn’t mean that there would not be speculation about the speed of her wedding. Of course, people would gossip. She would wonder herself if it happened to a lady in her acquaintance. It was all quite normal. But that didn’t quell the panic she was feeling. The sooner that she received the Duke’s wedding ring on her finger, and she was safely married the better. Only then could she breathe easily knowing that she had avoided a scandal.
“There,” said Mrs. Hedley, stepping back. “Have a look in the mirror, my Lady, and tell me what you think.”
Patricia slowly turned around towards the full-length mirror. She gasped with shock.
It looked like a stranger, gazing back at her.
The gown was truly exquisite. A dream of a gown, made of silver satin with embossed shells and flowers. It was a simple empire line design, but extremely elegant. Patricia felt like she was staring at the reflection of a princess.
“Wait, wait,” said Mrs. Hedley. “You need to put on the veil, as well, to get the full effect.”
Patricia bent her head, as the dressmaker skilfully attached the veil to her hair. She straightened, looking back into the mirror. The veil was a short slip of silver lace that fell to just above her shoulders.
And now, the princess had truly become a bride.
“Oh, Patricia,” gasped her mother, one hand flying up to her cheek. “You look so very beautiful, dearest. The Duke shall be simply overwhelmed by the sight of you.”
“You look so pretty, Patricia,” piped up Margaret, smiling beguilingly. “Like the Queen did on her wedding day, I am sure.”
They all laughed.
Her mother came close, putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I am so very proud of you,” she whispered, her eyes misty with tears. “I have dreamed of your wedding day forever, my dear. And now, it is finally arriving. What a beautiful bride you shall be.”
“Thank you, Mama,” whispered Patricia, strangely moved by her mother’s words. “I hope I shall make you very proud.”
Her heart lurched. She had dreamt of this moment, too. And now, it was almost upon her.
Tears pricked behind her eyes. She had always dreamt that when she would become a bride it would be for love. It had been her heartfelt wish since she had been a mere girl. She had always been slightly contemptuous of those ladies who schemed to get a rich husband.
And now, she had become one of them.
Patricia sighed. It was better than she could have hoped at least. Shedidlike the Duke of Merriweather, even if she had angled to marry him for the sake of his fortune. He was an honorable man. And she could not forget how she had felt in his arms, nor the decadent delight of her dream about him.
