Chapter Twenty-One #2
“No, too brazen. Miss Brandon has an air of delicate strength. Still water and all that.”
Felicity frowned. “I do?”
“Absolutely,” Fran said. “I knew it from the start.”
Felicity rolled her eyes at the maid and Fran chuckled.
They’d spent quite a bit of time together when she was here as a nurse.
Quite often Lord Alston would be sleeping or in the company of Miss Blakewood, and Felicity would retreat to the kitchens and visit with the servants.
She felt more comfortable with the working class than among the sophisticated nobles.
“You knew no such thing. You didn’t even know my name.”
“I knew there was something different about you,” Fran teased. “Most people share their family history and life stories, but you were as tight lipped as a rosebud. That meant you were hiding something.”
“I had—have reasons.”
“Of course, dear. Which is why we were still friends at the time.”
Felicity frowned. “What do you mean were? Are we not friends still?”
Fran shrugged. “You’re a lady. ’Tis different now.”
“It’s true, unfortunately,” Lady Amelia said.
“I’m not a lady,” Felicity protested.
“A vicar’s daughter is still gentry,” Lady Amelia said.
“I’ve plucked chickens. I scraped dung off my father’s boots. I’m not a lady in any sense of the word.”
Lady Amelia patted her shoulder. “Don’t be hurt. She also claims she’s not my friend, yet declares she’ll spend the rest of her life by my side.” Lady Amelia smiled at Fran.
“Unless I marry that tall, spooky doctor,” Fran countered.
Lady Amelia laughed. “He’s married to his work. Don’t set your hopes on him.”
Fran wiggled her eyebrows. “Dr. Sloan will fall to my charms at some point. Just wait.”
“When would he have the time now that he’s not here?”
Fran crossed her arms and smiled smugly. “On my day off I take him freshly made scones. There are two ways to a man’s heart: his stomach and his trousers.”
Lady Amelia scoffed and then laughed while Felicity turned pink. Then Lady Amelia winked. “I don’t cook.”
Fran slapped her thigh and giggled madly.
Felicity watched the two of them and then realized something. They were friends after all, despite their different positions in class. Felicity smiled and caught sight of a sapphire-blue gown that reminded her of Tristan’s eyes. She fingered the delicate silk sleeve.
“Aye, that’s the one,” Fran said and pulled the gown out of the box. She held it up to Felicity’s frame. “The bust might be a bit tight, but the length should be fine.”
Felicity looked down at the delicate fabric.
Silvery blue feathers were embroidered along the neckline and then fanned out like wings along the sides of the bodice, framing the breasts.
The sleeves were sheer silk stocking with blue cuffs.
Embroidered feathers were placed around the skirt as if free falling through the air.
Felicity had never seen something so lovely.
“I couldn’t—”
“It’s yours,” Lady Amelia said. “My final gift to you. It was made for you, Felicity. I’ve never even worn it.”
Felicity looked at her in shock. “How could you not have worn such a gorgeous gown?”
Lady Amelia shrugged. “I bought it last year. It’s not in fashion, but it has a timeless quality. It was made for someone who never came to pick it up. Madame Suzanne said she was going to reconfigure it into something else, but it was too beautiful to see it cut to pieces.”
“Oh, my.”
“Try it on,” Lady Amelia ordered.
Felicity tried to resist again, but she wanted this dress down to her marrow. She touched one of the feathers, mesmerized by the fine threads. Fran hung the dress and gestured for Felicity to turn. Felicity swallowed before shuffling to present her back.
“You’re shaking,” Lady Amelia said.
“I don’t change in front of others, usually.”
Fran hesitated. “I don’t have to help if you don’t want.”
“This is not a dress one can put on alone,” Lady Amelia said. “But I can leave.” She smiled sympathetically as she stepped past Felicity.
“Miss?” Fran said, peering around to see Felicity’s face.
Felicity nodded. “It’s fine. I need your help. I don’t want to damage the dress.”
Fran nodded. “I’ll need to see your undergarments to be sure you have the proper attire to wear under the dress. I’ll go find Matilda.”
Felicity nodded, her eyes stinging. Left alone in the dressing room, she turned back to the dress and touched the feathers again.
Something was happening inside her. It was like a glow, a beam of warm sunlight shining on a dark part of her, illuminating a corner of herself she’d forgotten was there.
She was going to wear this dress. She was going to marry Tristan.
She was going to see her sisters again. She’d settle for nothing less.
If Chadwick thought he could take her future, her inheritance, her happiness, with one act of forced intimacy, he was going to learn an important lesson: Her will was stronger than his.
She would not cower, she would not bend, and he couldn’t break her.