Page 72 of The Gentleman Was Right
“But if you’re not, you can tell me. Anytime.” She paused, and then added, “Only if you want to though.”
“I know. I didn’t intend to keep my feelings from you, and if there had been something I thought you could do to help, I would have talked to you.”
“You’re being too kind. Therewassomething I could have done. I could have taken you shopping weeks ago and helped you select so many gowns that you would have a difficult time deciding what to wear instead of allowing you to feel shabby and unfashionable.”
Isabelle nudged Violet’s slipper with her own, waiting until Violet looked at her to say, “It’s never too late. That is what we’re doing now, isn’t it?”
“It is. But I should have done it sooner.” Violet frowned and then let herself smile a little when Isabelle nudged her again. “I’m sorry.”
Isabelle waved her apology away. “I love you,” she said. “And you’re my favorite sister.”
Violet relaxed a bit, rolling her eyes. “I’m your only sister, but I love you too.”
“Now that we have thoroughly discussed my emotional state, let’s talk gowns. Are we going to Madame Jolie’s?”
“Madame Jolie?”
“She makes all the gowns for Edward’s family.” At Violet’s blank look, Isabelle added, “She made your wedding gown.”
“Really?” Violet had a vague recollection of being measured in Belinda’s bedchamber, but the details were hazy. The only thing that she truly knew was—“My wedding gown is gorgeous.”
Isabelle smiled. “I’m aware.”
“Then let’s go see Madame Jolie.” Violet knocked on the roof and informed the coachman of their change of plans.
When they arrived at the modiste, a shopgirl surveyed them from head to toe and said, “I am sorry. Madame Jolie is far too busy today.”
Isabelle’s shoulders dropped. “Oh. Could we…uh…schedule an appointment for another day?”
“I’m sorry. There are no appointments available.” The shopgirl dismissed them with a flick of her wrist and started to turn away, but Violet stepped forward and said, “Lady Greydon had?—”
“Lady Greydon?” The shopgirl echoed, turning back and giving them her full attention.
Gratified, Violet raised her brow and with more authority said, “Lady Greydon had my wedding gown designed by Madame Jolie.”
“Oh.” The shopgirl’s eyes widened further.
Violet gestured at the gown she was currently wearing. “As you can tell, my wedding gown is the only gown I own that is suitable now that I have married Lord Greydon’s brother. I was hoping to commission a new wardrobe for myself and my sister, but?—”
The shopgirl squeaked and grabbed them both by the forearms. “I apologize. Madame Jolie always has time for friends of Lady Greydon. I’ll get you settled, and then you can explain to Madame what you require.” She shuffled backwards and towed them through the shop and into the fitting area beyond the curtain.
The next few hours were spent in a flurry of fabrics, measurements, and discussion. Madame Jolie knew the precise style to flatter every body type, and she refused to let them leave until they had selected the most suitable colors and styles.
“When I am finished, you will dazzle,” the modiste said more than once. Her certainty was more than a little overpowering. Violet wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to dazzle, but Isabelle practically glowed every time she said it, and Violet felt a rush of gratitude for the older woman’s expertise.
Building her sister’s confidence might not happen immediately, but Violet was determined that it would happen eventually.
If only figuring out her relationship with Edward was that simple. Somehow, she had to figure out how to explain to him that he might have been right.
Maybe she wanted his affection.
And maybe she could offer hers in return.
But how could she find the strength to risk telling him how she felt?
As the carriage trundled away from the modiste, thinking about it consumed her. Luckily, Isabelle didn’t seem interested in conversing. Resting her head against the side of the carriage, she stared into the rainy afternoon, and at some point, her eyes slid shut and her breathing steadied. She was fully asleep when the carriage came to a halt in front of the townhouse, and Violet coaxed her awake with a few murmured words and a gentle tap on her shoulder.
Isabelle smiled softly as she blinked away sleep, then said, “thank you,” and climbed out of the carriage.
