Her sisters remained silent for a minute before nodding in agreement and continuing to faff over her.
“I can tell you one truth, Camelia. Once this sullen-faced duke lays eyes on you, all thoughts of discipline will leave his mind!”
The sisters giggled, and Camelia felt the tension between them ease.
“You’re going to ruin my composure, Margaret. What if I giggle during the vows?”
“That would be charming,” Iris interjected calmly. “His Grace could use a bit of light in his life. Speaking of which, have you thought much about his daughter, Lady Pamela?”
“Lady Pamela?” Margaret’s eyes sparkled with delight, and she clapped her hands together in a burst of enthusiasm. “Won’t she debut soon? Oh, I’ve heard such intriguing whispers about her!”
Camelia’s smile faltered, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her gown. “Lady Pamela… yes, I’ve thought of little else these past days.”
“Was she truly born from?—”
“She’s his daughter,” Camelia said promptly. “She was born out of wedlock, or so they say. But she is a duke’s daughter.”
“How is she? Have you met her?” Iris cocked her head, curiosity etched in her expression.
“No, I haven’t met her yet. But she’s… quiet, from what I’ve heard. How am I to be a mother to her, Iris, when I’ve never even met her?”
Iris paused, her hands light and gentle on Camelia’s shoulders, while Margaret pursed her lips.
“You’ll be wonderful, Camelia. You’ve always been the nurturing one amongst us. Remember how you cared for us after Mother passed? We were barely older than Pamela is now.”
“But that’s different,” Camelia protested. “You two are my sisters, and Pamela is… is a stranger. And she’s a girl on the cusp of womanhood. What if I fail her? What if she resents mefor stepping into her life? And His Grace expects me to guide her debut. I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsibility.Oh, heavens, what if I disappoint them all? The Duke, Pamela, and even my own family.”
Margaret reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Nonsense, Camelia. You’re the kindest soul I know. Lady Pamela will adore you. Think of it; you’ll teach her dances, help her choose gowns, and whisper secrets about handsome suitors. It’ll be like having a new little sister.”
Iris nodded firmly. “Exactly. And you’re not alone in this. We’ll visit often, and His Grace will surely support you. He’s marrying you for a reason, Camelia. He sees your strength, even if you doubt it.”
“But what if I’m not enough?” Camelia whispered, her eyes misting. “She’s grown up without a mother, and I’ll be expected to fill that void. What if she sees through me and knows I’m just pretending?”
“You are not one to pretend,” Iris said sternly, cupping Camelia’s face in her hands. “You’re genuine, loving, and wise beyond your years. Lady Pamela needs someone like you, someone who cares deeply. You’ll make mistakes, but we all do, Camelia. We just have to learn from yours.”
Margaret grinned, wiping a tear from Camelia’s cheek. “And if all else fails, you can always bribe her with tales of our mischief to win her over.”
Camelia burst into laughter, the tension leaving her shoulders. “Oh, what would I do without you two? I feel a bit better now, truly. But… the worry lingers. I don’t want to fail them… or you two and Father.”
“You won’t fail,” Iris assured her.
“Lord Lempster’s daughters never falter!” Margaret declared with a spirited salute, her voice brimming with pride.
The sisters dissolved into laughter, enveloping each other in a warm, fierce embrace, their joy a tangible bond.
Iris eventually drew back, her discerning gaze sweeping over Camelia to ensure every detail of her appearance was flawless.
“Now, let’s make sure this veil sits perfectly.” Camelia stood as Iris adjusted her veil. “There—you look like a vision!”
The door creaked open, and their father entered, but his steps faltered when he caught sight of Camelia. His gentle eyes, which usually twinkled with humor, welled with tears as he approached her and reached out to touch her veil lightly.
“Camelia, my dear,” he croaked. “You… you look just like your mother on our wedding day. The same grace, the same fire in your eyes.”
Camelia’s breath caught, her tears spilling over. “Papa… oh, please don’t cry, or I’ll never stop.”
He pulled her into a gentle embrace, careful not to wrinkle her gown. “How can I not? My little girl is all grown up and about to become a duchess. Your mother would be so proud, Camelia. She always said you had her spirit—the kind that could tame any storm!”
But can I tame the storm within me whenever I’m around the Duke?
