Page 36 of An Accidental Bride for the Duke
The modiste blushed. “It is quite alright. Although, I have been doing this for some time…”
“Yes, yes. You’re the expert and I am just a silly Lady. I know it.”
“I did not mean it like that!”
Iris laughed further. “I am joking, Agatha. Merely a joke.” She spun back, her eyes wide and glimmering. “But truly, this is theone. A gown made from this, and I might never want to take it off.”
“Keep in mind, this is only the base color.” Agatha came in behind Iris and turned her to face back into the mirror. “The hems will be darker, I am thinking. And I would love to see a colored print… perhaps a floral gold.”
“Oh, how bold of you.”
“I have been known to be so.”
“And I have already been proven wrong once today,” Iris said with a rightful nod. “Let’s not make it twice.”
“Your Grace…” Agatha stepped back and indicated across the room where there stood a small stool. “If you don’t mind. The color might have been chosen but we need to take measurements.”
“What? Oh, yes.” Iris shook her head. “Silly me.” She glanced at herself a final time and then started back across the room.
She was dressed in a light shift of white, but that was only because it would not do to be naked. Around her shoulders, however, was an emerald-colored shawl that Agatha was using to match colors. She had dozens of the things, every color imaginable, and after a morning of wrapping herself in each in search of the perfect color they had finally struck gold.
And the morning was far from over with yet.
It was just an hour ago now when Iris had returned home with Agatha in toe. She brought with her a collection of her materials, and instruments used for measuring. The task, as she was given by Iris, was to build for her a new wardrobe. And Agatha, the sweet little lady that she was, was only too eager to begin.
“Now that we know how green suits you, we can play a little with the other shades,” Agatha explained as she began to measure Iris’ waist. “Of course, you don’t want a wardrobe made entirely of green, so we will have to find more colors that suit your complexion.”
“And find them we will.”
“Once we do, I can produce a list for you to choose from. Dress types and gowns of certain styles. Select what you wish, we will choose the colors for each, and then we will style them to your body type and whatever proclivities you desire.”
“Proclivities?” Iris frowned. “What is your meaning.”
“Well…” Agatha indicated for Iris to hold out her arms so she could measure. “I have stencils of various gowns, of course. But what if you like the cut of one but wish for it to be without sleeves? Or another suits you but you want it tighter, or the dress to flow. There is no singular design, and the dress should be made to fit its wearer and her personality. Not the other way around.”
Iris was beaming. “It sounds like a lot of work.”
Agatha’s eyes widened. “I got ahead of myself. I did not mean?—”
“Which is a good thing,” Iris assured her. “Truly, I look forward to it. Although it might take a few days. I hope you do not mind coming back.”
“If it is fine with you, Your Grace.”
“Nothing could be finer.”
Iris was buzzing with excitement. Earlier, when she had approached the modiste and asked her to return to her home so they could build a wardrobe together, she had been nervous. No doubt when Philip learned of this, he would be furious, and she did not look forward to that particular conversation.
However, the nerves had since faded, and all Iris felt now was the thrill of having a wardrobe built for her personally. As the youngest sister of five, rarely did Iris get the chance to have dresses made like this. She was always wearing her sister’s outfits, so this was a treat beyond comprehension.
It might even be worth the fight I am sure to have. If the duke is going to be angry with me, the least I can hope for it to look good while he shouts and blusters.
There was an element of immaturity in what she was doing also, Iris knew. This would anger the duke, and deep down she wasonly doing it because she wanted to see him mad. More than that, she wanted to prove that she was not his to control. If he wanted to treat her like she did not exist, then she should be free to do as she pleased.
And if he felt the need to punish her for it… a shudder ran up her spine at the thought. So be it, she decided with a coy smile.
This was all well and good to imagine. To even hope for. But when the duke came home and found her in her bedroom with the modiste there, she knew right away that she’d made a mistake.
“What’s going on?” Philip appeared suddenly in her doorway.
