Page 24 of Loving Mister Stratford
Odette had to stifle another snicker when Simon’s satisfied eyes met hers and he swung his mallet over his shoulder in an unexpectedly jaunty gesture. There was a bashful tilt to his mouth.
“It’s all angles,” he said gently, by way of explanation.
Chapter Eight
The next several days passed in a blur with the countess spearheading final wedding preparations. One of the final items to handle before the big day was for Odette to endure what felt like interminable hours of fittings for her gown. Her mother had provided her measurements to a prominent London modiste and the gown had been shipped to Bridleton. Unfortunately for Odette, she had two sets of measurements: her real ones, and the ones her mother believed she should fit. This wasn’t the first time her mother had ordered clothing for her with those optimistic measurements, but Odette silently thanked God that it would be the last.Finally, she’d be able to order her own gowns in a style and measurements that suited her best.
This, however, didn’t solve the present and quite serious issue of her ill-fitting wedding gown.
While crafted from gorgeous gossamer shades of pink and pale rose, the scalloped neckline was indecently low on her ample bosom and the back simply refused to lace up no matter how tightly her stays were pulled; the beaded cap sleeves were cut far too tightly and were several inches away from sitting where they should; while the cut of an empire waist was normally flattering for most figures, there was nowhere near enough fabric to float around Odette’s hips and it hugged her curves most unfortunately.
She felt—and looked—like a sausage bursting from its casing. She had to laugh to keep from crying.
Thankfully, as they had been throughout the rest of the planning process, both Lily and Meredith had been present for the disaster, offering consoling or reassuring words based on the particular moment and situation. There was no masking the pitying glimmers in their eyes at the sight of poor Odette in her gown.
Of course, the countess had also been there.
As Odette stood upon the seamstress’s stool she’d set up in the privacy of the family parlor, the older woman eyed her from her seat on the sofa. And, though she had been nothing but polite and welcoming since Odette’s arrival, she had a feeling her future mother-in-law found her coming up short.
She pasted on a brave smile as, following several moments of heavy silence, the countess suddenly stood and approached where Odette was frozen in place. She circled her once and then gently fingered the pink-tinted pearls and rosy glass beads decorating the low-hanging cap sleeve.
“Your mother’s seamstress is talented with design…but her fitting abilities leave much to be desired,” Simon’s mother commented flatly. The bust line seemed to be particularly irksome to her; she was certain if her eyes could light a fire, the offending dress would have been reduced to ash twice over already.
Odette’s cheeks burned uncontrollably. It felt wholly disloyal to her mother to lay the blame at her feet, but would it be better to do so than allow the countess to believe she’d hired an incompetent seamstress?
Before Odette could say anything, however, Lily spoke up.“It could be a beautiful gown, Mother,” she said while smoothing the layers of fabric.“It is amazing how a proper fitting can make a dress feel like an entirely new garment.”
The countess made a thoughtful sound in reply.
Meredith knelt before her and lifted the hem to check the seams.“Oh dear…she didn’t leave enough room to let this out as much as we need,” she sighed and worried her lower lip between her teeth.
“Well,” the countess huffed.“This simply won’t do!” Odette tried not to flinch. She’d been mentally preparing herself for days to be called out as unworthy as she was, in truth. What the countess said after calling over her modiste, however, made Odette’s stomach flip.“We can’t have this lovely girl feeling anything less than confident and beautiful on her wedding day.”
Lily met Odette’s eyes and the acceptance she read in her smile made Odette’s vision blur. She turned back to the countess and the kindness she saw there was almost worse for her composure.
“What would you like, dear?” the older woman asked kindly, but not pityingly.“Should we attempt to alter this one or have a new one made?”
Odette swallowed past the lump in her throat.“S—Surely there isn’t time to have a new gown made before the wedding.”
“You would be surprised by what can be accomplished with enough money and the Stratford name,” the countess replied with an airy laugh.“The choice is yours.”
A choice.
When was the last time Odette had been given a choice? For that matter, had it ever happened? She’d had no say in her schooling, whether she was sent away from the only family she’d ever known, what she wore, what she ate, and now even who she was to marry… And the countess was giving her this first choice of what could possibly, finally, be many throughout the rest of her life:She could choose what she wanted to wear on her wedding day.
“There are certain perks to marrying into this family,” Meredith chimed in with a friendly smile.
Odette looked back down to her gown and immediately knew what she wanted.
“If we are able to refit this gown, then I should like to try it.” The gown was truly beautiful—would be even more so once it fit properly—and she would accept it as a last gift from her mother. After this, she would be a woman who controlled her own life.
The countess gave a decisive nod and, with a flick of her fingers, the seamstress and her assistant flew in and immediately began their ministrations.
Odette’s soul remained blissfully light and buoyant throughout the process, even when she was pricked with the occasional pin.
Two days before the wedding, Odette took advantage of a rare respite from the countess’s strict list of“necessary” wedding preparations and slipped away to one of the quietest rooms she’d yet to encounter in Bridleton—at least, the only one she could reasonably make her way both to and from without losing her way.
The library was a tall, narrow room with towering leaded glass windows overlooking the vast expanse of ripe green fields. Books in earthen tones of all shapes and sizes filled the shelves to the ceiling. She couldn’t imagine the effort it would take to dust the room from top to bottom; likely the poor servants had to start all over again just as they finished one go around.
