Page 68 of The Formation of Us
Iris scoffed. “Not when you’ve lived my life. You know what you are every time a man ogles you.”
“Maybe you should ask Patrick what he sees when he looks at you. If you’re not afraid of his answer,” she added as she left the room.
Chapter 22
On Wednesday afternoon Faith was watering herbs with Iris when Aster rushed into the greenhouse. “The sheriff left this for you,” she said, handing Faith a large cloth-wrapped bundle.
Faith’s heart skipped, and she set her watering can aside. This had to be her new dress for the lawn party Duke was taking her to this evening. He had invited her during the Fourth of July parade, but she’d declined because she didn’t own an appropriate dress. When he offered to purchase her a gown, Aster had poked her in the ribs and told her to accept the man’s offer.
So she had. But he’d insisted on choosing the dress for her, which terrified her. Would he know that a day dress wouldn’t be suitable for the party? Or that a ball gown would be too fancy?
Iris set her watering can in a flat of horehound, and crowded in to watch the unveiling.
Faith’s hands shook as she unpinned the silk wrapper and lifted out the dress she would wear. The bodice and skirt were made of light-brown French silk layered over a froth of creamy lace. Duke had included a silk parasol, and a brown hat trimmed with poppies, and had wrapped the gifts in a gorgeous matching shawl. The dress suited her coloring, and was perfectly appropriate for a lawn party, making her wonder if he’d chosen the outfit on his own. Even the size looked perfect.
“You better try the shoes,” Iris said. “You can’t dance on sore feet.”
Faith handed the skirt to Aster, and let Iris help her on with one shoe. It fit perfectly. “Duke must have slipped into our house and taken my measurements while I was sleeping,” she said with an amazed laugh.
A mischievous sparkle lit Iris’s eyes. “I think he didn’t have to sneak. What have you two been doing in the bathhouse every night?”
Things that turned her body to warm clay, that made her ache to be molded by Duke’s large, thrilling hands.
“Too naughty to divulge?” Iris asked. She rose to her feet. “Make the most of that pretty dress he gave you, and drive the man wild tonight. Get him on his knee, begging you to marry him,” she advised.
“I’m trying,” Faith admitted. She felt no embarrassment; brothel life had killed their need for modesty with each other.
“Good girl.” Iris turned her toward the bathhouse. “Now, hurry with your bath so I can style your hair. I can hardly wait to see the sheriff’s face when he sees you this evening.”
Aster scooped up the bundle of clothing. “I’ll lay out your wardrobe in your bedchamber,” she said.
Faith spent the next two hours being scrubbed, rubbed with herb-scented oils, and dressed and polished by four experts in the art of seduction. It felt sinfully luxurious to be dressing for her first outing with a suitor, and she wished she could tell Duke about her aunts and how hard they were trying to help.
“Ooh . . . beautiful,” Iris cooed, patting Faith’s hair. She’d pulled it up and left a waterfall of ringlets down the back of Faith’s head, and a long, dangling curl by each ear. She added the hat, tilted it at a slightly jaunty angle, and stepped back with a satisfied smile. “I wish we had a mirror so you could see yourself.”
Faith stood and gazed down at her dress. The skirt was pleated with two panels that opened in a wide vee down the front to reveal a drapery of creamy silk that rippled like a frothy waterfall to her toes. The breast and cuffs were trimmed with matching silk and set off with poppy-red ribbons. She had never owned a dress she hadn’t made for herself. Her sewing skills were passable, but at the brothel she’d only needed her plain, serviceable day gowns. She had to add yards of lace and several ribbons to transform her best dress into a worthy church outfit.
She stroked her palms over the luxuriant material with sinful affection. “Tell me I’m not dreaming all of this.”
“You’re not, but the sheriff’s going to think he is the second he lays eyes on you. Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”
Faith followed Iris out of the bedchamber and into the dining room where Dahlia, Aster, and Tansy were playing a game of Draw dominoes with Cora and Adam at the table. The instant they spotted her, the room fell silent. Giddy with pleasure, Faith opened her parasol, angled it like a sunshade, and turned in a slow circle.
Cora’s eyes goggled. “You look like a princess, Mama.”
Faith felt like a princess.
Iris beamed like a proud mother, while Aster, Tansy, and Dahlia gave her a rousing round of applause.
Adam gawked, and looked worried. “Do men have to know how to choose a lady’s wardrobe?”
Faith leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I don’t think it’s required for courting,” she said, “but the sheriff’s knowledge sure impressed this lady.”
“You should let him buy all your dresses.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Adam.” She gave Iris a playful wink, then kissed Cora good-bye.
The knock at the door sent her stomach flutter-birds into a wild flurry of flapping and swooping that left her breathless. With a hopeful heart, she greeted her handsome suitor, praying she was greeting her future husband.
