Page 60 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Belatedly, she realized that he might not appreciate her jest. She hoped it was not too early for her to make light of the occurrence.
Peter opened his mouth to reply then frowned and closed it again.
“You will not bait me so easily, Your Grace,” he said with a grin. “Shall I have the carriage ready at two this afternoon?”
Dalia nodded, relieved to see him smile at her teasing words.
“I shall inform Mary and Claire as soon as they return.”
“Thank you. Until then, Dahlia.” Peter bowed and left the room.
Dahlia let out the breath that she did not know she had been holding.
And so, her independence was but a few weeks away it seemed. She waited for the satisfaction and happiness that she had expected would come with freedom and independence, but they did not come.
That is because it is such a novel feeling, and it hasn’t yet set in. When the time draws near, and when everything has all been arranged, I shall feel it.
But for now, she must talk to Mary and Claire. Their secret reading club session would have to be postponed. They were to go on a shopping expedition.
The carriage moved at a slow pace due to the soft ground of newly fallen snow. As Peter, Dahlia, and the twins headed tothe town of Stilton, the younger ladies continued their steady commentary on the vistas and establishments they passed.
“There is the church, Dahlia.” Mary pointed. “Our vicar is Mr. Lennox. He has been here about three years now. He gives excellent sermons.”
“Speak for yourself, Mary,” Claire added. “I am barely awake when he starts talking.”
Suddenly remembering that Peter was with them, Claire continued in a serious voice, “But of course his sermons are excellently written.”
Peter looked outside and covered a smile. He cleared his throat and addressed his sisters.
“Shall we head first to the dressmakers?”
“Yes, let’s do, Peter,” Claire replied, enthusiastic again. “Our timing is perfect too as the new seamstress just started in Mrs. Smith’s employ. My friend, Melissa, said that she heard the new seamstress previously worked for a French modiste.”
“Is your London modiste also from Paris, Dahlia?” Mary asked.
“I go to my mother’s, so yes.”
“London shops are always so much more fashionable than our local ones,” complained Claire.
“Fashionable yes,” Peter said suddenly joining the conversation. “But I believe that the technique and craftsmanship of our local hands are better.”
“Surely, you know that to us females, appearance is of the utmost importance, never mind the craftsmanship!” Dahlia said in jest.
“Let us see if you still believe that when the sleeves of your gown start falling off.”
“Peter!”
Mary and Claire laughed.
Peter watched the three ladies. He was pleased to see how well they got along. And although Dahlia was to stay with them for only a few more weeks, he was happy that Mary and Claire would get to know her better. He appreciated the effort Dahlia made in befriending his sisters. Whether she was aware of it or not, she was gradually drawing them out. Perhaps what she said about wanting sisters was her motivation, but whatever it was, there was no denying the fact that she was good for Mary. And Claire. Certainly better than he was with them.
He frowned in thought.
What if Mary and Claire have a hard time when the time comes for Dahlia to leave? Perhaps encouraging this friendship might not be the best idea.
But he knew that it was too late; they were already getting along splendidly. He would just have to hope that they would recover fast.
What if she stays?
