“There is nothing to apologize for,” Ophelia told her. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. It sounds as if I am the one interrupting here.”
“Not at all!”
“Shall we agree that neither of us ought to apologize? If anything, I am even a little relieved. It always does well to have a second opinion…” She eyed the modiste with a smirk. “From someone who is not trying to sell me something.”
The young lady laughed. “I could not agree more.”
“My name is Ophelia…” Ophelia crossed toward her.
“Oh, I know who you are,” the young lady said. “You may call me Adelaide. If titles are required, the Viscountess Nightingale is what most know me as. But I would rather we not bother with formalities.”
Ophelia beamed. “I could not have said it better myself, so I will not try. Adelaide, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Indeed, it was. Adelaide was the type who seemed to inspire cheer around her. Always smiling. Always joking. And she did not take herself seriously. She hopped down from the stool and rushed to Ophelia, giving her a hug as if they were old friends.
Ophelia accepted the hug, perhaps relishing it a little too much because it had been so long since anyone had shown her such affection. Especially when they did not want something in return.
“Yes, yes,” the modiste waved them down. “I am glad that we can agree there is nothing here to worry us. But shall we begin?”
“I would love to,” Ophelia began, only to grimace and withdraw with embarrassment as she looked around the store. “Only, I am a little embarrassed to say, but I do not know where. This is all rather new to me.”
“Oh!” Adelaide took her hand. “Let me show you. With your coloring…” She bit into her lip. “Yes, yes. I know exactly what will work. Come now, let us find some samples.”
Ophelia allowed the young woman to guide her across the store, just as she allowed her to choose a variety of swathes in various shades and colors. They went through a dozen different designs after that, giggling together as they picked those that they thought would suit, and then she joined Adelaide on a stool so the modiste could get to work.
As she did, Ophelia and Adelaide spoke like old friends.
Better still, their conversation was not of a personal nature, and Adelaide did not seem that interested in Adrian or her marriage to him. She chatted freely, quickly, jumping from topic to topic.
Ophelia added her own thoughts here and there, made jokes, agreed and even argued on some things. But it was always done lightly, and not once did she get the sense that Adelaide wanted anything more than a friend.
A friend… I had almost forgotten what that felt like.
“I take it you are attending Lord Ironvale’s ball tomorrow evening?” Adelaide asked her at one point. “As am I,” she sighed and let her shoulders slump. “Not something I look forward to but expectations and all.”
Ophelia laughed. “Oh yes, I will be there with my husband.”
“I hope to meet him.”
“You will,” she said. “At the very least, if tomorrow evening proves to be the worst of things, you can always find me. I’ll do my best to keep you entertained.”
“You better,” Adelaide said. “Do not even think of taking back your promise, Ophelia!”
Ophelia laughed. “Definitely not. And the same goes for you.”
It was such a small thing, truly not that significant at all. But as Ophelia chatted away with Adelaide, she knew that she had just made a new friend, her first in longer than she dared to consider.
Like the garden, like the upcoming ball, and like Adrian’s slow but steady change, her life was starting to find a steady footing. And for the first time in years, Ophelia felt truly happy with her place, daring to dream that her future, what might come next, would continue to improve.
CHAPTER 15
When Adrian saw his wife appear at the top of the staircase, dressed and ready to attend their first ball, he felt… something. It was subtle, like a flame near death flickering back to life, a gentle but undeniable warmth touching him in ways he had never felt before.
She is… that gown… all of her. My wife is beautiful.
He did his best not to stare as she started down the staircase, but it was harder to do than it should have been. The gown was yellow with golden stitching, silver patterns that swirled up the dress and toward the waist. It was elegant by design, not too tight around her body, but still enough to show her curves and the sway of her hips as she moved.
Her hair was worn in tight ringlets, held back by a silver tiara. Her face was painted subtle white, while her cheeks were colored pink. Her jewelry sparkled, but that was nothing compared toher eyes. They found him watching; they must have seen how he gaped, and they lit up with unabated delight.
