How mortifying.Diana had love-drugged a man, a stranger, a genius!An incredibly handsome genius.The ink drawing of him in theLondon Timeshad not done him justice.They’d made his nose too big and his brows too heavy, as if they’d been trying to fit him to their image of a crude laboring man.He’d not been crude.He’d been… magnetic.His dark hair cut short but tousled like he often ran his fingers through it.His brows dark and thick but not low and brutish like the drawing.His shoulders might be the broadest set she’d ever seen, and his thighs… Her mouth dried at the memory.So very… thick.She knew well.She’d fallen atop them.
She took a large pull of her cold tea.Shemusthave ingested some.Love potion was potent stuff.Itworked, and that calmed her racing heart, made her want to sing.What would Lady Tascott say if Diana pushed the jams and teapot aside and did a jig on the table?Much.She’d say much, all of it shocked and disapproving.So Diana tapped her feet beneath the table.The potionworked, and if she found no way out of the wedding, she could at least avoid the marriage bed.Lissy, Apollo’s mistress, would appreciate the continued attention.
“My lady,” the butler said from the doorway, “the coach is ready for you.”
“Thank you, Jenkins.”Lady Tascott stood and gathered her reticule and hat.“Come along, Diana.Madam Godfrey awaits.”
Diana would rather not.But she placed her book in her reticule, gave Merlin one last pat, and followed her aunt out the door.
* * *
A half hour later,they stepped onto Bond Street, bonnets shielding their faces from the bright sun.And a few steps after that, they were inside Madam Godfrey’s.
Diana breathed in the bustle, the color, the sounds.Her wedding gown was horrid, but this shop… this shop was almost as electric as Lady Guinevere’s.Did they work hand in hand?In the corner, a shopgirl poured potion across a bolt of white fabric, and it burst into bright, berry red.At the large window display, another shopgirl emptied a potion bottle on the glass, and it frosted over despite the spring heat on the street beyond.She styled a mannequin in winter blues and thick furs behind the frosted window.
“I cannot understand why,” Lady Tascott hissed, “Madam Godfrey flirts with such disreputable trends.Gowns potioned to appear like glamours.It’s abhorrent.A wicked lie.The women of our family never sank so low.Witchery.Hmph.”
“I find it rather exciting.”She’d not known potions could create illusions very like glamours until they’d begun shopping at Madam Godfrey’s.The new dressmaker had become a necessity once they’d realized Apollo would not be able to glamour their gowns.“Do you know, women throughout history have experimented with potions for a variety of reasons.”
“This is no time for one of your lectures, Diana.”
“Women have been killed for it, too.”
“Diana!You do say the most morbid things.”
“It’s not morbid.It’s history.”
“And this is not a university.It’s a dress shop.Now smile and look pretty, my dear, and remember your grandfather’s final request.”
To marry Apollo.Grandfather hadknown.She’d seen in it his eyes as he’d gasped his final breaths—shock, fear, determination.All while Diana’s soul seemed to catch fire, to suffocate her, growing bigger than her body until she thought she might burst.
Her palms warmed, and she tugged at her gloves.They were firmly in place, but best to be careful.
“Lady Tascott!”Madam Godfrey bustled over, hiking her skirts as she wove through the patrons.“Miss Chester.Welcome, welcome.You’ll be so pleased.I’ve finished, and we’re ready for a fitting.It’s perfect.”She led them to an empty back room.One wall held a large gilt-framed mirror, in front of which stood a wide flat platform.
Diana did not look in the mirror.It was still rather odd to see her reflection without the glamour she’d worn her entire adult life.It felt like looking at an entirely different person.She didn’t feel like her reflection and was not sure she ever would.
“Undress, Miss Chester,” Madam Godfrey instructed.“The gown is there.”She pointed to a pink pile of lace and silk hanging over a chair.“And I’ll send a girl in to help you in a moment.Now, Lady Tascott.We must speak about the trousseau.Let me show you a few items I think particularly necessary.”Linking her arms together, Madam Godfrey pulled Lady Tascott back into the front area of the shop.
Diana tried not to feel sick.But her stomach would roil, and her cheeks were hot, and her chest would not expand enough with each breath.They came quick and shallow, and she must… she must get ahold of herself.
“I will not marry him,” she whispered.“I will not, I will not, I will not.I’ll find a way.”A mantra to steady her nerves, to beat back the rising panic.
Easy to strip out of her clothes and down to her corset and chemise.Her clothes seemed to suffocate her.Nothing that a bit of desperate twisting and turning couldn’t fix.But once she was undressed, she had to touch the gown.It seemed to laugh at her, and she jumped, yelped, when the shopgirl bustled in with a hearty greeting.
“Sorry to scare you, miss,” she said.“I’m Gabby.”
“It is nothing.I’m tired.Can we do this quickly?”
“Certainly.”
And they did, and Diana tried not to look at herself in the mirror as the shopgirl helped her onto the platform.
“Hm.”Gabby pinched a bit of fabric at the gown’s waist.“A bit too loose about the middle and the bust.Too long as well.But we’ll fix that.I’ll fetch Madam Godfrey.”She curtsied and stepped into the front room, closing the door behind her.“Oh!Lord Fordham.Your bride will be pleased to see you.”Gabby’s voice was close but muffled.
So was Apollo’s.“Do you know where my mother is?”
Her groom had arrived for the fitting.Marvelous.Diana’s palms began to burn, to sweat, and the back of her neck prickled.
