“Yes,” she said. “I see what you mean. All right. Two days.”
Gray grabbed for her hand and lifted it to his lips. “It’s all going to work out, Rosalinde, trust me. Now come, we have much to do.”
He guided her to the door and she let him, for she knew there was no fighting this now. But though she was about to get everything she’d ever wanted, she also knew that she had perhaps let something go that meant a great deal.
And the future, though settled, she wished was a bit brighter.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rosalinde looked at herself in the mirror and hardly believed what she saw. A bride looked back at her, a bride with her own face. Celia’s silver-gray wedding gown, stitched with lines of beautiful pearls, had been hastily altered to fit her.
“I think it looks better on you,” Celia said.
Rosalinde forced a smile. “And Grandfather hasn’t made himself known?” she asked, her stomach queasy. Even now there were faint marks remaining on her throat, reminders of what had brought them here.
Gertrude scowled as she finished tugging and smoothing Rosalinde’s gown. “There’s been no word since he sent his letter demanding his things be returned to London along with Thomas and the carriage yesterday.”
Celia pulled a face. “I wonder if he included us in his ‘things’.”
“I don’t know,” Rosalinde said. “I don’t care. But the sooner I get through this wedding, the sooner we won’t have to worry.”
Celia met her eyes in the mirror’s reflection, and Rosalinde saw her sister’s concern. Celia turned to Gertrude. “Might I have a moment with Rosalinde?”
Gertie nodded. “Of course. I’ll just go and see if any of the other servants need help with the final preparations.”
“Thank you,” Celia said softly as the maid left the room and shut them in alone.
Rosalinde turned to face Celia at last and made herself smile. “Well, here we are, at your wedding day. I hope you don’t hate me for requisitioning it.”
Celia laughed. “You sound as though it is a military operation.”
“It feels like it has been.” Rosalinde shook her head. “In such a short time, everything has been set on its head. But at least that is what the guests are talking about, not your broken engagement.”
Celia frowned. “When the guests do speak to me about Stenfax, it is to tell me what a good sister I am to sacrifice becoming a countess so that you could have true love. Stenfax and Gray’s plan has worked exactly as they hoped.”
“So has ours. Only we caught the wrong brother,” Rosalinde said.
Celia reached out to twist one of Rosalinde’s curls around her finger. “I think he might just be the right brother for you, Rosalinde. Have you told him you’re in love with him?”
Rosalinde drew back. She hadn’t realized her heart was so clear. What a cake she must be making of herself. Only it was hard to pretend when one was being washed away by a tidal wave. Every time someone referred to Gray as her fiancé, her heart leapt. Whenever she had to tell someone the story of their grand and undeniable love,shewas speaking every inch the truth, even if he wasn’t.
“I have eyes and I can see,” Celia whispered. “I know your heart like I know my own.”
Rosalinde turned away. “I haven’t told him,” she admitted. “Because I fear his response.”
“My brave sister Rosalinde, the same one who flies into the world with her arms wide open, is afraid to say three little words to a man who obviously worships her?”
“There is a difference between desire and love,” Rosalinde said. “And saying those three little words is asking to be shot through the heart.”
“Or to be given wings.” Rosalinde faced Celia again. She’d never seen her sister so open or so calm when speaking about emotion. Celia smiled. “It seems you cannot have one without risking the other.”
“You think Ishouldtell him?” Rosalinde asked.
Celia nodded. “Yes. And I think you should tell him before you wed.”
“Before?” Rosalinde repeated. “But we are just an hour away.”
“Exactly. If you tell him now, you’ll go into this ceremony with your eyes wide open and be best prepared for what happens next. The longer you wait, the harder it will become. For both of you.”
