Rose shrugged. She almost took for granted William’s love, so used to basking in its warmth, and except for the fear of losing him, she knew no lapse in her happiness.
“If I’m as happy as you and Riley ...,” she trailed off, while her sister grinned at her in the mirror hung over the dressing table.
“You will,” Sophie said. “We had a difficult start and a few obstacles to overcome in order to be together, but that made it all the sweeter.” Sophie had the dreamy look she always wore when discussing her husband.
Sophie and Riley, Riley and Sophie. Rose could not imagine one without the other. The only reason they weren’t together that moment was because Riley was putting their children to bed while Sophie enjoyed some private time with Rose.
“Is everything ready for tomorrow?” Sophie asked, laying down the brush and taking a seat on her sister’s bed.
Rose turned from the vanity.
“Yes, it seems so.”
The staff of the Tremont would spend all the next day putting the finishing touches to the main ballroom. Chef Pierre had left Reed and Charlotte’s home and taken up residence in the Tremont’s kitchens, cooking and baking all day and would continue the next day.
Lastly, Rose had found the perfect party dress in a blush color that would look fetching against her dark hair. She opened her wardrobe and there it was, hanging ready.
For the briefest second, the sight caused her a pang of sorrow. And, as always, the sorrow was linked to Finn, who’d never seen her in anything splendid like a party gown. Still, it comforted her to believe he would have liked it. She could easily recall the desire and wanting in his gaze whenever he looked at her.
“I can’t wait to see your William’s expression when he sees you in that gown,” Sophie said, dragging Rose’s thoughts back to the present.
Assailed by guilt over pondering a dead man on the eve of her engagement party, Rose thoroughly berated herself. Immediately, she conjured William’s laughing, handsome face. Why, she had only to picture him, and her spirits lifted.
