The room fell silent for a little while, as if they were all thinking of the same thing. Of the man with cold eyes and colder words. The man who didn’t smile, who didn’t explain, who made even Lord Scovell sit up straighter.
However, Hyacinth broke the silence as she tilted her head curiously and said, “But really, Aurelia… are you all right? You haven’t said much about how you feel.”
Aurelia straightened a little and plastered on a careful smile, the one she had practiced since she was fourteen. “It’s a good match,” she replied. “And it will make everything else easier.”
Nora squinted at her. “Everything else?”
Aurelia took a deep breath. “Yes. Everything else on my list.”
“You mean your goal,don’t you?” Celia paused and fixed her with a look that was both serious and amused. “Oh no, she’s doing it again.”
Hyacinth gasped softly. “You still talk about that? The list you wrote the night of your debut?”
Aurelia hesitated a second too long. “Yes.” She sighed. “I think this marriage will help.”
“Getting married to the duke will help you tick those boxes?” Hyacinth raised an eyebrow.
Aurelia nodded. “Once I’m a duchess, everything else becomes easier. I believe.”
“Even the matter of siring an heir?” Nora teased.
Aurelia shot her a look, then turned playful. “Especiallythat.”
Celia looked thoughtful. “You think this marriage will fix things.”
“I think this marriage willhelpthings,” Aurelia corrected gently. “If I do it right.”
More silence ensued. Not a sad silence, just a gentle quiet.
It was evident that Aurelia was just saying all those things to convince herself that the marriage was something she should be thankful for.
Nora opened her mouth to speak, but a knock sounded at the door, interrupting whatever she had to say.
“The carriage is ready, my lady,” came the footman’s voice from outside.
Hyacinth stood up almost immediately. “Alright, ladies, to town we go! We have got so many silks to judge and lace to insult.”
“And one very nervous bride to dress,” Nora added with a giggle as she rose as well.
She crossed to Aurelia, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up.
“Well then,” Aurelia said, lifting her chin with something that looked very much like courage. “Let’s find a gown worth ruining my lungs over.”
The four of them quickly moved through the room with giggles and perfumes, their skirts rustling like flower petals.
And as the carriage rolled away from the estate gates, the faintest trace of the duke’s face was all Aurelia could think about.
The dress shop smelled of rose water, lemon polish, and velvet dust.
Within minutes of their arrival, the ladies had taken over the parlor. Hairpins were tossed onto the cushioned chairs, and Aurelia stood on the small platform before the dressing mirrors. Her bare feet were almost swallowed by the plush rug, and her arms were held out as two assistants adjusted pins along her spine.
The first gown was made of pale ivory silk, with the kind of texture that shimmered in the light.
“It’s too… solemn,” Hyacinth commented from behind. “You look like a duchess already—which is the point—but don’t you want to feel like a bride too?”
Aurelia turned slightly toward the mirror. Her friend was right, she did look the part. Regal and proper. In fact, almost unreal.
But something in her expression didn’t match the gown. And it bothered her because she had to brave herself for a life made of posture and pretense.
