Chapter 15
Fifteen
“You look so beautiful!” Rowen clapped her hands over her mouth while Verity and Cora nodded their agreement.
Adele beamed back at her friends. They were standing in the modiste’s, the day before the wedding. It was the final fitting, to ensure the gown was everything she had wanted.
“I cannot believe you designed this yourself!” Verity ran an appreciative hand over the sleeves of the gown.
“Well, the modiste made some adjustments. The original design would not work quite as well with this fabric.” Adele gestured to the yellow silk of her dress.
“But I think the changes have made the dress work better. Though perhaps trying to design my own gown was foolish. It is not quite continental or British; maybe they will think me vain or arrogant, or I will look awful.”
“Adele, you are fretting again.” Cora shook her head.
“The dress is truly breathtaking — I doubt the Duke will be able to keep his eyes off you.” Verity beamed at her.
She imagined Warner staring at her, his eyes dark and hungry, and she felt a tingle run down her spine. “Or he will tell me that it is too much.”
“Then he is a fool.” Rowen made a dismissive gesture.
I am no fool. His words floated back to her, and for a moment, she could feel his hand around hers.
The smell of sandalwood made her head spin, and she cleared her throat, reaching for one of the veils to hide her burning cheeks.
“I really cannot decide between these two. Which one do you think would work best?”
There was a disapproving sniff from behind them, and they all turned in the direction of the noise.
A woman with a severe face and blonde hair tied into a tight bun was standing near them.
Beside her was another woman who was short with auburn hair and an expression on her face like she had stepped in something disgusting.
“Do you need a handkerchief?” Rowen asked, the sweetness in her tone sharper than a knife.
The woman gave Rowen an affronted look but did not respond.
“Now, Adele, have you given any thought to your —” Rowen began but the stranger let out a loud, overly theatrical sigh.
“Ignore them,” Verity muttered, shooting a glance at the two women.
Rowen’s nostrils flared, but she nodded and gestured to Adele’s feet. “Shoes. That is what we need to decide.”
“You will want to be comfortable but stylish. I know you are not having a breakfast or celebration after the ceremony —” Verity began, but she stopped as the two strangers let out coughs.
Adele heard distinct muttering. She turned to face the women, forcing herself to smile at them.
“Pardon?” Adele’s voice was overly bright and airy even as she gritted her teeth. “I do not believe we have met; I am Lady Adelaide Rothwell, Marchioness of Kidlington. And you are?”
“Lady Vera White, Countess of Salford, and Mrs. Samantha Addington.” The blonde woman pointed to herself and then to her companion.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Adele took a step towards the women, standing as straight and tall as she could manage.
“Now, it is clear you either have some thoughts and are rather desperate to share them, or else, you are under the weather in which case I would recommend a journey to Bath.”
Lady Salford stiffened, her lips thinning so much they were practically non-existent. “I do not think a trip to Bath will be necessary. It was just… well, rather surprising that you would not even have a wedding breakfast.”
“Really?” Adele arched an eyebrow at the woman.
“Truth be told, the whole thing is rather unusual. After all, your last marriage ended only three months ago.” Mrs. Addington gave her a sickly smile.
“Yes, it does seem rather soon to be marrying someone else.” Lady Salford gestured around them. “I am not sure I would make such a choice, but of course, if you feel this is right…”
Fury boiled up within Adele, but she kept her mouth shut. Her mind searched for the perfect retort, yet all it turned up was How dare you!
Before she could reply, Cora had stepped between her and the women, flanked by Verity and Rowen. The widows formed a protective barrier around her.
“Lady Salford, how kind of you to share your opinion. Your concern for our friend is so… well intentioned.” Cora’s tone dripped with derision.
“Though, perhaps in your fervour to warn Lady Adele of an error, you forgot the facts of the matter. After all, she was married to the Marquess for a number of hours, not years.”
“If the Marquess had left her at the altar for another woman, would you expect her to grieve for a year?” Verity clucked her tongue. “Of course, you would not. Just because the man has died — may God rest his soul — well, I would think three months is plenty of time.”
“And of course, one should really take care when throwing stones, especially when in glass houses. Do you not think?” Rowen looked between Verity and Cora. “I believe it was your third husband who you were discovered with at your second wedding, was it not, Mrs. Addington?”
“It was husband number four,” Cora chimed in, and Adele had to fight to keep the smile from her face.
“Come now, ladies, can you not see how brave these two are being? After all, I am not sure I would want to make an enemy of a duchess. They are only one step down from royalty after all.” Rowen fanned herself, and Adele saw her hide a smirk behind the fan.
Adele saw Lady Salford’s eyes widen. The woman clutched a hand to her chest. “I — we meant no offence.”
“And yet offence has happened all the same.” Cora’s voice was cold as a midwinter morning.
“Lady Kidlington. Please, you must forgive us.” Mrs. Addington tugged on Lady Salford’s arm. “We… we were just concerned for you. We do not think it wrong of you to marry; it is just what some people are saying.”
“Yes, this is all a silly misunderstanding.” Lady Salford nodded enthusiastically.
Adele smiled at the two women, the kind of smile that promised the kind of violence women of the ton were so adept at committing.
“Of course, it is, and no doubt you will be correcting other’s misunderstandings as well.
Now that my friends have clarified things of course.
After all, I should hate for us to part on less than amiable terms. Especially as we have just met. ”
“Of course, of course.” Lady Salford swallowed and glanced at her friend. “You must send His Grace our deepest and most heartfelt congratulations.”
“Yes, please.” Mrs. Addington was backing away from them, her eyes going to the door. “And of course, I hope you have the most wonderful day.”
The two women fled, and the widows turned to face Adele, satisfied smiles on their face. She grinned back.
“Thank you.” Adele embraced each of them.
“Think nothing of it. Even though you are marrying again, you will always be one of us.” Cora beamed at her. “And we protect our own.”
Adele nodded but said nothing. She did not trust herself to speak. Instead, she let her friends take her back to the dressing room, letting their excited chatter lend her strength.
“I am glad that you will be there tomorrow,” Adele said as they helped her out of her dress. “Are you sure I cannot convince you to be my third maid of honour, Cora?”
“I love you dearly, but my old feet need a rest. I shall watch from the front pew and leave the rest to you.” Cora gestured to her feet as she leaned on her cane heavily. “Besides, I fear I would steal your limelight, and we cannot have that.”
They laughed as Cora winked, and Adele felt a warmth spread over her. The modiste packaged the dress, and the four of them left the shop in high spirits.
Her good mood lasted right up until she had returned to Kidlington house where she ran into Mrs. Patmore and another maid.
“Good evening, Mrs. Patmore.” Adele smiled at the woman, who gazed stonily back at her.
“A second wedding dress.” Mrs. Patmore wrinkled her nose. “Well, I suppose it would be in rather poor taste to use your last one.”
Adele’s smile faltered. “There is a superstition that it is bad luck for a groom to see the bride in her dress before they are married. His Grace has already seen me in that dress.”
“And the last thing you would want is bad luck.” Mrs. Patmore exchanged a look with the maid. “We could not possibly have that.”
Adele gritted her teeth, anger and embarrassment twisting through her. “I should think none of us wants misfortune to befall anyone in this house.”
“Yet it seems to befall people all the same. Well, certain people.” The maid gave Adele a dark look. “You will be expecting us to dress you, I assume? We cannot have you looking anything less than perfect for your special day.”
“That is what you are employed to do.” Adele looked at the women, the anger on their faces so plain a blind man could have seen it.
“Of course. We would hate to forget our place.” Mrs. Patmore ducked into a curtsey. “No doubt you will want us to call you Your Grace now.”
“We would hate to cause offence. We know what that leads to,” the maid added.
“This has all worked out rather well for you, has it not, My Lady? From the daughter of an earl to a marchioness and now a duchess in under a year!” Mrs. Patmore clapped her hands together, lip curling.
“I am sure you are looking forward to being in that castle. No doubt it will be far more to your liking than our… modest abode.”
“Enough.” Adele threw the box with her dress on a nearby table. “I will not be spoken to like this.”
“Or what? Will you get rid of me like you got rid of Martha?” Mrs. Patmore glared at her.
“I did not get rid of her. I tried to help her. I wanted to help her, to support her, but every attempt was thrown in my face.” Adele gritted her teeth.
“From the moment I have set foot in this house, you have treated me like a pariah. You have been unkind and cold, and I have done nothing to deserve it.”
She swallowed with difficulty around the lump in her throat. “I thought perhaps we could be friends. That we could come together in shared grief. But no, you shut me out. You act like I am some judgemental snob, and yet I have received nothing but judgement from you.”
Mrs. Patmore and the maid stiffened but held their tongues.
Adele’s eyes pricked with tears, but she did not let them escape.
“I am sorry that Martha has left, truly I am, but I am sick to death of being blamed for everything in this world. I did not kill Eric, nor did I get rid of Martha. I have done my best to be polite, to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I am done.”
She drew in a shaky breath and continued, “You and my family are exactly the same, and I want nothing to do with any of you. You could have chosen kindness, but you did not. My own family cast me aside, so why would I expect anything different of you?”
Mrs. Patmore opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came out.
“I will not need your help tomorrow. Or rather, I will expect your help with the bare minimum, the rest I will do myself. I have no wish to be around you, and you clearly do not wish to be around me.” She stormed past them. “Good day.”
She slammed the door to her bedroom shut and flung herself on the bed. The tears gave way to anger. She grabbed a pillow and flung it at the door.
“If I never set foot in this cursed place again, it will be too soon,” Adele muttered. “I cannot wait to leave.”