“Yes, Your Grace. Shall I show her in?”
For a fleeting second, Robert felt the faintest flicker of… something. Surprise, perhaps. Or curiosity.
He stood and set his pen aside. “Show her in.”
Havers disappeared, and Robert moved from behind the desk to stand near the fireplace with one hand resting lightly on the carved mantle. When the door opened again, she entered.
She wore a pale lilac walking dress that brought out the steel-blue edge of her eyes. She moved with her usual grace and stubborn pride though her chin was set a little higher than usual, as though she was daring herself not to turn around and walk back out.
“Miss Ellory,” he said smoothly. “How unexpected. Have you come to apologize for throwing my flowers away?”
He caught the sharp intake of breath, the flash in her eyes. She wanted to retort, he could all but see the words forming inside that wonderfully odd mind of hers, but she swallowed them with visible effort.
“No,” she said with forced composure. “I came to speak with you about the wedding.”
“Ah.” He folded his arms across his chest, leaning a shoulder against the mantle. “Do go on.”
“I’ve been looking at gowns,” she explained, glancing briefly around the room as though she might draw courage from the brooding bookshelves. “And I can’t decide which one to choose.It is simply impossible, I swear. I’m afraid that I must ask for a bit more time to make my choice. Itispossible, isn’t it?”
Robert had to admit that now, he was even more amused. “Is that so?” He paused for a moment then added, “And which ones did you like the best?”
She blinked, visibly thrown. “I beg your pardon?”
He smiled faintly. “You’ve clearly given it a great deal of thought. I’d like to hear which gowns you’re considering.”
She stood in his study like a flame refusing to flicker, stiff-backed, hands clasped, too proud for nerves. And yet he saw it in the way her fingers twitched when he looked at her too long and the way her breath hitched before she spoke.
“There’s one from Madame Vernisse,” she decided, her tone clipped, rehearsed. “Ivory silk. The bodice is covered in lace, and the sleeves are sheer. It has a modest train, and pearls stitched into the hem.”
He gave a slow nod, watching her rather than picturing the gown. “Refined.”
She hesitated then continued. “And the other is from Mrs. Aldermere. Champagne satin with gold embroidery along the hem and sides. The neckline is…” she paused, catching the hint of a smirk threatening his lips, “a touch daring.”
“I see,” he replied, biting down the smile before it could take form. “Pearls or gold thread. A serious dilemma.”
But then, as if she feared he might see through her, see that this little visit was nothing but a performance, she thought of adding more. “There are two others I’ve considered.”
Robert didn’t move, but his eyes remained trained on her, amused. “By all means.”
She lifted her chin. “Madame Vernisse has another in dove grey tulle. It’s layered, quite airy, with silver thread at the bodice and a sash at the waist that can be dyed to match whatever color I choose for the flowers.” She said it as though reciting from a catalogue, trying much too hard to sound nonchalant.
“Practical,” he murmured.
“And Mrs. Aldermere has a rose-pink gown. It is very pale, nearly blush, with a square neckline and embroidered roses along the sleeves. She claims it flatters nearly every complexion.”
“A dress that flatters every woman,” he said with a soft inclination of the head. “A miracle indeed. Perhaps you ought to choose that one.”
She blinked. “I’m not certain. That’s the entire point of the dilemma.”
He hummed in mock sympathy. “A crisis of true gravity.”
Her nostrils flared, just slightly. “Yes, well, if you’re expecting a bride who chooses her gown with haste and without care, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
He smiled faintly. “Disappointment isn’t quite what I feel when I look at you, Miss Ellory.”
There. That blush again, lovely and immediate, blooming over her cheekbones.
She turned from him under the pretense of inspecting some trinket on his desk, muttering, “You’re impossible.”
