“But this complicates everything…”
The maid looked too confused now, and Frances felt bad for subjecting her to her own problems.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to put everything on you. You must be tired, too,” she added, guilt seeping into her tone.
The maid shook her head. “It is quite alright. I have to say, I do not understand the exact reason for your predicament, but I am here to offer my advice anyway.”
“Perhaps we can speak tomorrow. I can think about it for another night.”
“As you wish, Your?—”
“Ah, ah.” Frances waved her hand in the air.
“Then simply, as you wish.”
“Much better.” Frances smiled and then saw the maid out of the room. When she sank back into her bed, her thoughts once again drifted to Christopher.
Love was too strong of a word, she realized. She surely was not in love with him yet. But she was fond of him. She was infatuated with him.
And the kiss had only cemented her infatuation.
* * *
Luckily, there was one thing that could get a lady’s mind off a distracting kiss. It was a new dress.
The maid knocked on the door and entered, carrying a large, beautifully wrapped box.
“Lady Frances, your dress for the ball has arrived,” the maid announced, a smile playing on her lips.
Frances’s heart skipped a beat, and she jumped up in excitement. “Oh, let me see it.”
The maid carefully placed the box on the bed and began to untie the ribbon. Frances watched with anticipation, her excitement growing. The maid lifted the lid, revealing a stunning gown. It was a deep, rich shade of emerald-green, with intricate lace detailing.
It took Frances’s breath away.
“Oh,heavens…”
“Was it your choosing? I must say, it is gorgeous.” The maid nodded in encouragement.
Frances shook her head, unable to tear her gaze away. “It was the Duke’s choice entirely. He did the entire process, from ordering to choosing each detail.”
Well, she was sure that he must have had some help in the shop, but it was still very thoughtful of him.
“His Grace has impeccable taste.” The maid smiled. “This dress will look magnificent on you.”
Frances held the gown up to her body, turning to look at herself in the mirror. The color complemented her complexion perfectly, and the craftsmanship was exquisite. She could already imagine herself wearing it to the ball, gliding across the dance floor with Christopher.
“I can’t believe he chose this for me,” she murmured, a soft smile spreading across her face. “It’s like he knows exactly what I would love. It’s perfect,” she added, her voice filled with awe.
The maid nodded approvingly. “His Grace certainly knows how to make a statement. And you, my lady, look absolutely stunning.”
Frances blushed slightly. “Thank you. I just hope I don’t trip over my feet at the ball.”
The maid smirked. “Well, if you do, just blame it on the excitement of the evening. No one will be able to resist your charm.”
Frances laughed, relieved at the injection of humor. “You seem to have the right advice. Quite sage and wise.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” the maid replied, smoothing out a small wrinkle in the fabric. “I believe that you will be the best dressed lady in the ball.”
