“Your Grace?” His mother’s voice broke through again, and he realized he had been staring. “What is it? You seem troubled.”
“Nothing, merely… thinking, mother,” he replied, forcing a smile.
But deep down, he was coming to terms with a truth he had tried to ignore. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became: his heart was drawn to Cecilia, and perhaps that was a path he could never take.
CHAPTER 17
“Hopefully, the fabrics you wanted will be in as well today for you, Evie,” Cecilia smiled, her voice light and inviting as she adjusted the collar of her deep green coat.
The crisp winter air swirled around them as they walked the short distance from where the carriage had to stop in the snowy road, to the direction of the shop.
“Absolutely! I can’t wait to see what they have in store,” Evie chimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“I, as well, am excited,” Tristan’s tease was heavy as he flashed a grin at the group. “I cannot speak for you all, but I’m just here for the show of fashion. And I expect front-row seats!” He gestured animatedly despite the sarcastic tone, causing a ripple of laughter among the group of three families.
The dowager countess, with silver hair elegantly pinned up, wrapped her shawl tighter as she raised an eyebrow at Tristan. “Just remember, my lord, it’s not all about you,” she teased, her lips curling into a slight smile. “How far are we off to again?”
Cecilia chuckled, but her laughter was cut short as she watched Alistair fall into step beside Diana, who was slightly ahead with the Wexfords. She wore a soft maroon dress that accentuated her delicate features and a light shawl draped over her shoulders.
She looks stunning, as always. It’s no wonder he can’t keep away from her.
Cecilia frowned at her train of thought and redirected her eyes elsewhere. However, her ears remained stubborn, thus her gaze followed.
“Tell me, my lady, do you think they’ll have something suitable for the wedding?” Tristan directed the question to Diana, who seemed surprised at the sudden attention.
“I’m certain they will, my lord,” she replied, her voice smooth.
“I just hope they have the fabrics in shades of blue,” Nathaniel interjected, “Just as my bride requested.” He smiled at her, and she blushed, the warmth spreading across her cheeks.
“Soft colors, I dare say. Why not a sharp red?” Tristan exclaimed, feigning shock. “We must be daring! Let’s find something thatwill make heads turn!” He winked at Diana, who met his gaze with an odd expression.
The group reached the shop, a quaint establishment with a charming display of dresses in the window. As they entered, the bell above the door jingled, and the atmosphere shifted to one of anticipation. The dowager duchess, with her sharp gaze, surveyed the racks, her presence commanding yet nurturing.
As they moved through the shop, the air was filled with laughter and friendly banter. They considered dresses and fabrics; some more interested than others.
“Miss Kingman, that is indeed an excellent choice of design,” Alistair’s rare complimenting tone pulled almost everyone’s attention, his eyes bright with admiration as he gestured toward a traditional, flowing, emerald gown that caught the light beautifully.
The fabric shimmered like the surface of a tranquil lake, and Diana’s cheeks flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice soft yet as always.
“Oh come now, Miss Kingman,” As the moment of praise settled in, Tristan, leaning casually against a nearby rack, interjected with a teasing smirk. “That dress is a bit too old-fashioned for someone as lively as you, don’t you think?” he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Diana’s expression faltered for a moment, a frown forming as she processed the unexpected jab. Her blue eyes, usually warm and inviting, now sparkled with a hint of annoyance.
Yet, she took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of the dress with her fingers. “I believe classic styles have their own charm, my lord,” she replied, her voice steady despite the obvious tension.
Tristan’s gaze lingered on her, his playful demeanor faltering slightly. He seemed unsatisfied, as if he had expected a different reaction from her. Cecilia stood nearby, her brow raised in silent observation. She hoped her brother wouldn’t make Diana his next target for relentless teasing.
Evie, oblivious to the undercurrents, was busy examining a vibrant swatch of fabric. “What do you think about this one?” she asked, holding up a bright coral against her fair skin, her darak curls bouncing as she turned toward Cecilia.
“It’s lovely, but I think something a bit softer might suit you better,” Cecilia suggested, her voice warm and encouraging. She couldn’t help but glance back at Diana, who was still recovering from Tristan’s remark. “How about a light peach? It would complement your complexion beautifully.”
“Let’s keep looking!” she suggested loudly, trying to redirect the energy in the room. “There are plenty more fabrics and dresses to explore!” She hoped her enthusiasm would lighten the mood.
“Brother, what do you think of this one?” Evie asked, holding up a vibrant fabric that danced with colors under the store’s bright lights.
Alistair, standing with his arms crossed, seemed pleasantly surprised at his sister seeking his opinion. He cleared his throat, adjusting his posture as he stepped forward. “Well, I believe this would be a better choice,” he said, reaching for a deep cream material.
Cecilia’s expression shifted immediately, her brow furrowing as she observed the plain fabric.
