Page 38 of Long Live the Baron
“And her hair! It is far too inappropriate!”
“She has beautiful hair. Quite like yours, wife.”
Lady Moreland stamped her foot in outrage. “I forbid this! Lily shall not leave our home wearing such a frock! She must change and do her hair in a manner appropriate to a debutante.”
Lily paid no mind, still stunned by how mature she appeared. The gown was better than even she had envisioned when Signora Ricci had first described it a few days earlier.
“Aunt.” Sophia’s voice was calming amid the family chaos. Her cousin had always been calculating in her approach to life, clear in her goals and acting with decisiveness. Since her marriage, Sophia’s confidence had grown to make her a formidable countess of the realm. “Lily has selected a gown that is appropriate for her complexion. She is no longer a debutante.” Lily ran her hands over the tulle overskirt in reverence. “She is a bride.”
The occupants of the entry hall froze, then turned to stare at Lily. She looked up in amazement, staring back at Sophia, who was smiling gently at her. “I am a bride.”
“And a bride should choose what she wants to wear.” Lord Moreland’s deep voice cut through the silence that followed. “Now I believe it is time to leave. We have a wedding to attend.”
Lady Moreland was still wailing her distress as they bundled into their carriage. Sophia joined them, taking a seat next to Lily. She had promised she would accompany her so she could dissuade Mama from interfering. Lily had every intention of forging a happy marriage, which included mutual attraction, and the gown was crucial to a successful start. She must light the spark of passion in Mr. Ridley before it was too late.
“Signora Ricci is a genius.” Lily kept her voice low out of respect for Mama, who sat across from her with twin lines between her brows marring her handsome face.
“She understands color and form superior to other modistes. I was fortunate that Richard sent me to her.” Sophia’s reply was unapologetic, causing Mama to cry out once more.
“Hugh! Why would the earl know a modiste?”
This time Lord Moreland appeared rather uncomfortable, shooting a glance at Sophia, who smiled blithely in response. She shrugged slightly. “My husband was a rogue. Thankfully, he has excellent taste and I have the advantage of his past in my present. Signora Ricci is a veritable artiste who makes her customers look like the subjects of great art.”
Lily giggled. “Lady Slight would agree with you.”
“Lady Slight!” Mama’s voice was shrill in the confined space.
Sophia colored, turning to look out the window at the passing traffic. “The viscountess frequents the dress rooms.”
“Dash it, Hugh! We must turn this carriage around.”
Papa shot another pained glance at Sophia, who was studiously watching the street. “Be that as it may, Lily’s gown is modest compared to Lady Slight. She is embarking into marriage and she deserves to feel beautiful, Christiana. And she is. Beautiful. I have never seen her look lovelier than she does at this moment.”
Lily peered at her reflection in the side window, scarcely able to credit her transformation. She had always suspected that the modest colors and virginal flounces she wore were a hindrance to attracting the attentions of handsome young gentlemen. Surely their first impression of her must be that she was dull and shapeless. There were so few young men on the marriage mart, and the fashionable colors for debutantes and Lily did not suit. It was a match made in the depths of hell, exaggerating Lily’s youthful looks so that she had appeared inconsequential. Only the oldest codgers were attracted to her at the balls. Why that was, was a question she did not like to ponder. Lily was just gratified to discover now that she might actually be pretty. Sophia had brought her own abigail to style her hair, which was the perfect finishing feature for her new appearance.
An entire wardrobe was being created for her, but Signora Ricci had moved mountains to deliver several new gowns in record time.
The one she wore now might be more suitable for the theatre than for a ceremony, but it was Lily’s favorite and Sophia had encouraged her to wear it. She wanted to walk into church with her head held high, and ignite Mr. Ridley’s passion, so she needed every weapon she could muster to distract her groom from the paramour he had given up to wed her.
“Mama, I love you dearly. But this is my wedding day, and I barely know Mr. Ridley. It is imperative that I do everything in my power to set our marriage on the path to success. I wish to enjoy the companionship that you and Papa share, and to do that, my groom must view me as a grown woman and not as a charitable gesture. This will be a happy marriage if I make it so.”
Her family, barring Aidan, who had left for the church earlier, turned to gaze at her. Mama’s face crumpled into an expression of tearful adoration. “Oh, Lily! My little girl is all grown up.”
Zooks! I hope Mr. Ridley agrees!
The gentleman was sartorial elegance in his perfectly tailored clothing. What would he think now that Lily finally had a competent modiste to dress her?
* * *
Brendan stoodat the altar with the vicar, awaiting the arrival of his bride. Near him, Richard fiddled with his cravat and checked his timepiece. From the pews, Annabel watched on with her hands folded over her rounded belly while the duke stretched his broad shoulders. Brendan’s friend, Lord Julius Trafford, sat behind them in the next pew. Trafford had been indignant at the news he was to marry, but had begrudgingly shown up for the ceremony dressed to the nines in the latest fashion. Frankly, Brendan thought the elaborately embroidered coat and waistcoat looked rather uncomfortable, not to mention the intricate knot of his cravat that tilted Trafford’s chin to a haughty angle.
On the other side of the aisle was Miss Abbott’s family, including her brother, and Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, who were related to Richard.
“My lord, I have services soon.” The vicar shuffled on his feet, a pained expression on his dour face. “I need to prepare.”
“They will be here any minute.” Brendan’s assurance was thin. He did not know his bride. It was his assumption that the wedding was imperative to mitigating their scandal, but how well did he truly know the Abbott family?
What if they do not arrive?
