“Do you want me to list Ivy’s worst qualities?” asks Faith. “Would that help? She breathes so loud when she sleeps. It made me want to smother her.”
“I don’t think you’re helping, darling,” Marion whispers.
Faith refuses to leave me alone. I give her and Marion my bed and sleep in the armchair by the fire. I tend to it all night, thinking of Ivy with each shower of sparks.
Bram is glowing with happiness the next morning and all through the next week. I should leave. I should beg off and drinkmyself into a stupor in some lord’s hunting lodge, like I have every other time something in my life gets hard. But I just can’t bring myself to.What if she needs me?That’s the thought that goes through my head anytime I get close to calling a carriage and running away.
We are getting fitted for new suits when my brother asks me the question I’ve been dreading. In the end, the answer comes easy. “Of course I’ll be your best man.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
It isn’t raining on the day of the wedding, which is a miracle in and of itself.
My mother, Lydia, and I are picked up midmorning by a palace carriage and taken to Caledonia Cottage, where we will dress for the wedding. “Isn’t rain supposed to be lucky?” I ask, slumped against the velvet seat.
“How much luckier could you get?” Lydia replies.
I run my tongue over the smooth gap in my gum where my upper left molar used to be. Mother tells me to ignore that too, but I can’t stop prodding at it like a worry stone.
I’ve been sleeping in Lydia’s room for the past two weeks. Our parents think it’s sweet that we’re maximizing our last days together under the same roof, but really, I just like that she’s awake in the middle of the night too.
The irony of our situation doesn’t escape me. All the time I spent raging at her for the bargain she couldn’t remember, and now I’ve gone and done the same thing.
Lydia didn’t gloat about my bargain. She’s always been a better person than I am.
She just said, “It looks like we’re both exactly the same kind of stupid,” which almost makes me laugh.
Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. An auspicious beginning to what will be a long and happy marriage. It’s splashed all over the papers, my description on every front page in London. The headlines no longerTHE SIX, butTHE ONE.
They’ve embroidered my face on tea towels, there’s no backing out now.
Bram and I have barely seen each other. Every waking moment is filled with dress fittings or appointments about table settings or flowers.
Crowds line the streets all the way from our house to the palace. They shout good wishes and wave handkerchiefs as we pass by.
My mother’s elbow jabs me in the ribs. “Wave,” she urges.
I lean my head out the window, and the crowd goes absolutely wild. I’ve never felt more lonely in my life.
When we arrive, Marion, Faith, Olive, and Emmy are there in matching cream silk bridesmaid dresses. I missed them all dearly, even Faith.
Olive tames my curls into ringlets and then pins them into an elaborate updo. She looks concerned the whole time, staring at me like she’s biting her tongue about something.
“You bite at your lips when you’re nervous,” I say as she winds the hair by my ears around the hot tong.
“Why would I be nervous? It’s your wedding day.” She smiles. I have that odd feeling, the one I still can’t shake when I look at all of them. We’ve been living together all season, but why does it feel like there’s something I’m forgetting? Could my bargain have included the other girls? That feels unlikely.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” I twirl my engagement ring nervously. It sits next to the pearl ring Bram gave me the day I first thought I could love him. I haven’t taken it off.
“Only that you’re the most stunning bride we’ve ever seen,” Marion says.
The queen didn’t strip anyone of their titles. It seems she’s happy enough to let the threat hang over us, or she’s been too preoccupied with wedding planning to remember. Regardless, I’ll be a princess soon, and I intend to use my status to protect the other girls the best I can. I’m certain Bram will help me.
The season already feels like a dream, like it happened to someone else. I can barely even remember being at the balls and social events. The only moments that feel truly crystallized are the queen’s lessons and the moments with the other girls.
Lydia buttons me into my white wedding gown. It’s a gauzy confection, with a wide V-neck that hangs off my shoulders and layers upon layers of fine-tooled lace that falls in ruffles across the bodice and skirt.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had on my body, but I glance in the mirror anxiously. I was nervous when the atelier decided on this silhouette. The neckline shows the part of my neck where I had that strange, toothy bruise. It took weeks to heal but finally appears to be gone. It’s the oddest thing, I can’t remember how I got it.
