She was a grown woman of twenty years and perfectly capable of conducting herself properly. Yet every recollection of water dripping from his dark hair seemed determined to undo months of careful discipline.
A sharp knock sounded at her door. Seraphine practically jumped. “Come in,” she called, perhaps a little too quickly.
The door opened and Thalia swept inside like a royal inspection party. One glance at the Duchess and Seraphine forgot all thoughts of ponds, Dukes, and damp shirts.
“Good heavens,” Seraphine exclaimed, staring openly. “You look magnificent.”
Thalia twirled once, causing the silver embroidery of her gown to catch the candlelight. “I know,” she said cheerfully. “Marriage has done wonders for me.”
“It appears your humility has suffered, though,” Seraphine said dryly, folding her arms.
“Terribly,” Thalia agreed with a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her chest as though mourning the loss.
Seraphine laughed despite herself. Thalia's gaze immediately landed on her dress. The smile vanished.
“Oh no,” she said, staring at the gown as though it had personally offended her.
Seraphine frowned. “What?”
“That will not do,” Thalia declared, pointing accusingly at the fabric.
“It is perfectly respectable,” Seraphine replied, smoothing a hand down the skirt.
“It is perfectly boring,” Thalia shot back, wrinkling her nose.
Before Seraphine could protest, Thalia marched directly towards the wardrobe and threw open both doors. Fabrics shifted as she rummaged through gowns with alarming determination.
“My dress is more than adequate for an evening of cards,” Seraphine informed her.
Thalia snorted. “Cards?” she repeated, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, my dear. This evening is much more exciting than cards.”
Seraphine narrowed her eyes. Whenever Thalia used that tone, trouble followed.
“What exactly have you planned?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
Thalia triumphantly pulled out a gown and held it aloft like a battle standard. “A small gathering,” she said with suspicious innocence.
Seraphine pointed at her. “That smile says otherwise.”
“There will be gambling tables,” Thalia replied, smoothing an imaginary crease from the fabric.
Seraphine blinked. “Oh.”
“There will be billiards,” Thalia continued, rummaging through another shelf.
“Oh, I did not know…” Seraphine replied.
“And entertainment.” Thalia's grin widened. “There will also be locals joining us from the village,” she added, turning back towards her.
Seraphine stared at her for a long moment. “That does not sound remotely like a quiet evening,” she said dryly.
“Exactly.” Thalia beamed.
Thalia held up the gown she had selected. Seraphine immediately regretted it. The dress was deep crimson silk. The neckline plunged alarmingly low.
“No.” Seraphine stared at the gown as though it might leap from Thalia's hands and attack her.
Thalia raised a brow. “No?” she echoed, tilting her head.
