He predicted she’d walk to the window, and she did, crossing her arms once more over her indignant breast and fastening her eyes on the sky.
Sebastian went to the small sofa and sat down, one elbow propped on the gilded scroll of its back. The giltwork was faded and scratched, the white paste showing beneath. He toyed at the relief pattern with a fingertip. He looked at Mrs Ardingly.
“Have you received the first of the dresses?”
Very stiffly, still watching the sky, “Yes. Thank you.”
“And they fit? They look well?”
“My aunt is delighted. Thank you.”
“Andyourdresses, do they fit?”
She said nothing.
“You haven’t tried them on.”
“There seems little point.” She turned from the window but didn’t seem to know what to do after that. She looked at the clock. She toyed with the curtain. In a moment, she would ring for tea. “I’m sure such a renowned modiste knows how to sew with absolute precision.”
“Undoubtedly. But you must still try them on. Measurements aren’t infallible. Cloths and cuts all have their quirks. But you know all that.”
“I haven’t had time.”
“The picnic is in two days.”
“Let me ring for some tea.”
He watched her cross the room.
“Try on the dresses, Mrs Ardingly.”
She paused, hand on the bell cord. “Yes. I will.”
“Now, if you please. I need to see you in them.”
She gave him a startled look, hand dropping from the cord. Then her brows gathered, a little storm held between them.
“I don’t know what impression you have of me, Lord Cotereigh, but I am not to be ordered around. If you think your donation gives you the right to…to make demands—”
“I merely wish to make sure they suit you and fit well. There’s no point otherwise. The finest gown in the world is of no help to you if it clashes with your eyes or gapes at the back or sags at the waist.”
Her smile was sharp and flat. “Withyouchoosing them, how could they fail to suit me?”
“I make mistakes, Mrs Ardingly. Not often. But I do make them.”
“Gosh. I feel there should be someone to bear witness to this moment.”
His eyes narrowed in amusement, an irresistible smile tugging his lips. “I’ll have the admission carved in stone, shall I?”
“Better embroidered onto a pillow. You can look at it every night before you fall asleep.”
“I’ll leave that task to your capable hands. No doubt you wield a needle just as proficiently as a brush.”
She almost smiled back; a sharp, glinting smile, but a smile nonetheless. He saw it dance in her eyes for a moment before she sought refuge in glancing away. An entirely unremarkable corner of the room got the benefit of her focus.
“Do try the dresses on,” he said. “It’s better that I see any deficiencies now, here, with time for alterations to be made, than that you turn up at Richmond looking not quite the thing. You thinkIam exacting and preoccupied with trivial fashion, but I can assure you there is no stricter judge of a woman’s attire than another woman. Us men…we tend to get distracted.”
That last made her flush. Her recently re-papered portion of wall became the object of her attention. But she was torn, doubting, distrustful. He wondered if her heart beat as quickly as his own.
