Zaza opened the book. The pages were filled with elegant sketches, swatches of fabric pinned in the corners, and looping handwriting that belonged to another era entirely.
Fern leaned in, barely able to contain her curiosity, while Daniel settled back, watching Zaza with quiet fascination. The drawing that emerged first made Fern give a tiny gasp. ‘That’s the one.’
The sketch included all the tiny details, and Eliza’s initials– a curling EV– were signed neatly in the corner like a painter signing a masterpiece.
‘The sixty-fourth dress I made,’ Zaza began, her voice soft but laced with unmistakable pride. ‘I remember every stitch, every fitting, like it was yesterday. It was made for a Christmas Eve wedding, planned to take place at the church on Puffin Island. There’s something quite magical about a winter wedding, don’t you think? The snow falling, candlelight flickering, the scent of pine and mulled wine in the air. When this order came through, I was still working from my little shop in Sea’s End. It was the most elaborate gown I’d been asked to make at that point, with ivory silk tulle, hand-sewn pearl detailing and lace imported from France. It took me close to eight weeks, working through the nights by lamplight, hands pricked raw from all the hand-beading.’
Fern could practically see the scene in her mind’s eye, a younger Eliza hunched over the gown in a cold little seaside shop, driven by both passion and the pressure of making her mark.
Daniel let out a low whistle. ‘That must’ve been some endeavour.’
‘Oh, it was,’ Zaza replied with a soft chuckle. ‘The bride wanted it to look like she’d stepped straight out of a fairytale and, I dare say, the dress did. I remember the final fitting. The way her eyes lit up when she saw herself in the mirror. She looked utterly enchanted.’
Fern couldn’t hold the question in any longer. ‘So… can you tell us who the bride was?’
Eliza lifted the page slightly, revealing a name written in the flowing, unmistakable script of the past.
‘Matilda Hartley.’
Fern’s eyes widened as she stared around them all. ‘Matilda Hartley?’ she repeated, her voice catching in the back of her throat. ‘That’s my great-aunt.’
Zaza’s eyes widened. ‘She’s your great-aunt?’
Fern nodded. ‘Which makes all this very strange. I don’t think the wedding ever happened,’ she said, looking to Daniel for confirmation, as he was the one who knew Matilda.
But it was Zaza who gave a nod. ‘Dorothy did share that with me. I never knew the reason why but—’ She stopped mid-sentence.
‘But?’ Fern questioned.
‘It’s not for me to keep rumours alive.’
‘Please, can you tell us what you know? We don’t even know where to go from here.’
Zaza still looked a little uneasy. ‘Soon after the wedding was called off, Matilda’s family disowned her. The majority of people thought that it was her fault and that maybe she’d had an affair.’
‘You knew her at the time. Is that what you think?’ asked Fern.
‘I don’t like to make assumptions without facts, and it really wasn’t any of my business to ask.’
‘I know what I’m thinking,’ cut in Daniel.
‘Go on,’ urged Fern.
‘Where has this wedding dress been hiding until now? Why does someone want us to discover this information, and what are they expecting us to do with it?’
‘I’ve just been thinking the same,’ added Fern. ‘Have you got any details of the groom?’ she asked Zaza.
‘I don’t even need to look his name up. The groom was Nathaniel Loring.’
Fern’s mouth dropped open so suddenly it felt like her jaw had unhinged. ‘Nathaniel Loring? As in Nathaniel Loring the composer?’
Zaza offered a slow nod of the head. ‘The very one.’
Daniel sat back against the plush sofa, running a hand through his hair. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ he murmured.
Fern’s mind spun. Nathaniel Loring, the world-renowned composer whose music still echoed from grand pianos in every concert hall, the man whose name had graced album covers and symphony programmes, had been engaged to her great-aunt? She was flabbergasted and still trying to process the revelation. ‘This is quite unbelievable. Do you know any more details? Can you remember any conversations from when you fitted the dress? I appreciate it’s a very long time ago.’
‘I can remember that she and Nathaniel originally met at a London music school, but it was a summer on Puffin Island that cemented their relationship. Nathaniel stayed on the island, and Matilda was helping out in the local guest house. They fell in love like characters from a novel, so quickly and completely it swept them both off their feet.’ Zaza reached for her teacup and took a slow sip. ‘But Nathaniel came from a world of acclaim, opportunity and temptation. On the day of the wedding, it was all over.’
