Page 56 of Tessa Cavendish Is Getting Married
Deciding to start at the beginning, I dug my sketchpad out of my bag to show Marianne my dream dress. I took in her smile as she oohed and aahed over the image.
“So simple yet beautiful,” she said.
I explained about the number of bedding sheets I’d ruined in my attempts at getting to grips with the sewing machine.
“At least you didn’t waste money on fancy fabrics.”
And I told her about Mum’s Princess Dianna heirloom.
Marianne put a hand up to her mouth, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her amusement away. “What a lovely gesture.”
Then I explained how I’d managed to inherit Grace’s dress too.
“Again, a nice thing to do.”
I looked at Marianne direct. “You think?”
Unable to control herself any longer, she sniggered. “No,” she said, trying to compose herself. “I think it’s a terrible thing to do to someone.”
Having outlined everything from start to finish, even I began to see the funny side.
“So what now?” Marianne asked. “And where do I fit in?”
“Obviously I can’t wear either of the two dresses I have.”
Marianne continued to laugh. “Obviously.”
“But at the same time, I don’t want to hurt their feelings or let them down.” I took a deep breath. “So…”
“You wondered if there was a way of making one new dress, from the two old ones?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m guessing as it’s wedding season, all the boutiques are busy with their current orders?”
I thought back to the telephone conversations I’d had that morning and nodded.
“Which is why you’ve come to see me?”
I suddenly felt panicked, realising how awful that looked. “Not that you weren’t my first choice. But after insulting your years of experience the way I did, I just wanted to sort the problem out myself.”
“Tess, don’t worry. You didn’t insult me. For all either of us knew, you could have been a natural dressmaker. I mean, some people are.” She placed a hand on mine. “Believe me, I’d love to help.”
“Really?” After all the gown related stresses and strains, I’d never felt such relief.
“Yes, really.” Marianne picked up my sketchpad and assessed the image again. “Now, as lovely as this dress of yours is, why don’t we try to come up with something even better?”
Willing myself not to cry, I smiled a grateful smile.
“From what you’ve described, I think we’ll even have enough fabric for a bridesmaid’s dress too.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…”
“And maybe even something for the matron of honour?”
My eyes began to water and wiping them dry, I opened my mouth to tell Marianne that that would be asking too much.
As if reading my mind, she flashed me a silencing look. “See them as a wedding gift. From Hugo and me.”
