Martha rolled her eyes again. But she was smiling as she told her cousin about their conversation about art, about Lord Elgin, and about Lord Billington enjoying horseback riding in the country. Isabel ate up every word, and Martha managed to remain casual as she spoke. But she found herself wearing the same dreamy smile when she finished speaking.
“You’re in love,” Isabel said, raising her champagne flute to Martha’s oddly full one.
Martha scoffed, her cheeks growing hotter still.
“Nonsense,” she said. “We had a nice day. Nothing more.”
Isabel gave her a knowing look, urging her to drink from her flute.
“You’ll see, Cousin,” she said while Martha drank. “You shall see.”
***
Martha awoke with two things on her mind. Firstly, was how wrong Isabel had been the previous night. She couldn’t possibly believe that Martha was in any way in love with Lord Billington. She supposed she couldn’t blame her cousin, as she hadn’t seen how cold and indifferent he had been toward Martha the night they met. She had been enthralled with her fiancé that evening, as she always was, and as she well should have been. But Martha didn’t see how one shared interest, and a few good conversations, could ever constitute as love.
And yet, she was also thinking about Lord Billington herself. She couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed his company the previous day. They had had such lovely conversations about art and Lord Elgin, and he had seemed, for the most part, to be truly enjoying himself. However, she also couldn’t deny that he had seemed incredibly guarded. When they weren’t actively engaged in conversation, he had seemed distant and aloof, as he had been when they first met.
And yet, Martha couldn’t help understanding a little better than she had at first. She had originally thought he was being distant because of her. But she had witnessed firsthand how society treated him. She knew well how members of the ton could treat people they didn’t think fit the mold of perfection. But she had seen what the viscount went through, just for trying to enjoy a lovely art exhibit. She understood why he had become tense and uncomfortable. And she thought it was unfair.
One would think that a future earl would be treated with more respect,she thought. She tried to imagine thinking so poorly of a nobleman for any superficial reason, but she couldn’t. It seemed like a completely foreign idea to her to judge a person solely based on physical appearance. And yet, that was precisely how the ton seemed to operate. They cared only about two things: wealth, and appearance. And Martha didn’t know how she felt about such a perspective.
She herself hadn’t been born with incredible looks. That was the biggest reason why she had been doomed to the life of a spinster, before her arranged marriage to Lord Billington. She wasn’t ugly, precisely. But nor was she remarkably lovely. She was plain, at best, according to the judgmental souls of the ton.
She had never given much thought to her looks, as she had always assumed that she would find a gentleman who would want her, since she wasn’t what would be considered an ugly duckling. But she had learned quickly that she was plain, even by ton standards. That had led to her being labeled as a wallflower, and it taught her just how snobby high society could truly be. She wasn’t in as bad a position with her looks as the viscount was. But she could very well imagine just how much harder it was for him.
She closed her eyes and sighed, envisioning Lord Billington’s face as she did so. It hadn’t occurred to her until right then, but she rarely even noticed his scar. He was the most handsome gentleman she had ever met, and it was something she just never thought about when she looked at him. She could see how his face must have looked before the accident that scarred him. And it made her heart skip a beat each time she looked at him.. Especially those pale blue eyes.
A smiling Lily distracted her from her thoughts. The maid entered the room, closing the door behind her and hurrying over to Martha.
“It is time to dress for the wedding, Miss Elwood,” she said.
Martha grinned.
“Oh, I can still hardly believe it,” she said dreamily as Lily fetched her white bridesmaid dress from the dresser. “Today, Isabel is to be married. I am so happy for her. But I will miss her so much.”
Lily gave Martha a warm, reassuring smile.
“I am sure she will visit often,” she said. “And your mother and you will surely be going to see her, as well.”
Martha nodded, but a thought crossed her mind. Would Lord Billington take issue with her wanting to visit her cousin often? Would he be willing to entertain Isabel and her husband when they wanted to visit? She thought he couldn’t be so unreasonable as to have a problem with her being close to her family. Surely, she was just finding more ways to make herself nervous about her own upcoming wedding.
As Lily began to undress her, Martha’s mind wandered again back to Lord Billington. She hoped that the guests would be at least a little more polite toward him, seeing as it was a wedding. Her family’s friends were all kind and friendly enough, but it wasn’t them she was worried about.
Patrick’s father had relatives and business associates who would possibly be in attendance, and some of them lived in smaller parishes. She doubted they would have ever seen anyone the likes of Lord Billington. She felt bad for the viscount, not being able to go anywhere in public without such judgmental. She had to hope that an occasion as happy as a wedding would warm people enough to not be so harsh toward the viscount.
Lily then styled Martha’s hair, topping her high-piled ringlets with the bonnet that matched her bridesmaid’s dress. Martha couldn’t help taking a long look at herself in the looking glass as Lily finished getting her ready and fetched her shawl. Her dress was markedly different to Isabel’s, she was aware. But she also knew that simpler dresses had been worn by other ladies in the ton to get married, and it felt like she was getting a glimpse of herself on her own wedding day.
To her surprise, the shudder she expected turned into a flutter in her stomach. She was still uncertain of the kind of future she would have with Lord Billington. But in the time she had spent with him, she could tell that they got on quite well. She couldn’t help, especially as she looked at her reflection, but to imagine that they might find joy in their own wedding day, as well.
Martha headed for the door, stopping just as Lily opened it for her with a tiny gasp.
“Just a moment,” she said. “I forgot something.”
Martha turned on her heels, rushing to her writing desk and rummaging through the drawers. She found what she sought at the bottom, where it had been shifted in her search for her charcoals when she sketched in her room. She smiled, tucking it in her pocket and then hurrying out of her bedchamber door.
She knocked on Isabel’s door, waiting to hear her welcome to open it. She entered the room, thrilled to give her cousin her gift. But when she caught sight of Isabel, her heart stopped. She had seen Isabel’s dress at the fittings. But with the extra adornments, like the flowers Isabel had embroidered down the white satin skirt pleats, the pearl embroidered cape, which doubled as a train, and the big, pearl studded bonnet Isabel had chosen, she looked like a princess.
Martha forgot the gift in her pocket for a moment, rushing over to her cousin and pulling her into a tight embrace.
