Chapter Nineteen #2
“I thought I’d invite Miss Mayles as well, since she is such an admirer of the woman’s books. I assume she’ll be at the ball you mentioned tomorrow?”
“Oh, the one for Horatio Benitez’s birthday.
Excellent idea,” his aunt said, though Arden could tell her attention was already slipping away.
He rose from his seat to leave her be, but before he could take a step, his aunt looked at him again and nudged Affair of the Darkest Heart across the table.
“Don’t leave just yet. If you truly want to endear yourself to Miss Mayles, you should read the book properly, not just go off what I’ve told you. ”
She had a point, so he picked up the book and took his seat again. He poured himself a glass of port and opened the book, beginning to read.
A day passed since the pageant, and Rafe and Leif were still following assorted leads about Thaddeus’s finances, but Mavis felt as if she were a sailboat lost at sea on a windless day—there was nothing she could do but wait.
But idleness gave her mind too much time to wander, and it had a terrible habit of wandering straight back to the way Arden Ryskamp kissed her like he needed her more than air, and that, Mavis knew, was where madness lay.
Mavis thought madness had already found her when she received a card informing her that her wedding gown was ready for fittings.
At first, Mavis was confused—oh, she had a vague memory of a seamstress taking her measurements during her last visit, but her thoughts that day had been preoccupied with the way Arden looked at her when she’d dropped her dressing gown in front of him.
She was certain, though, that she hadn’t picked out a gown—in all her years of running the same con, she had never made it that far in wedding preparations, so surely it would have jumped out in her memory.
But no, Thaddeus had said something, hadn’t he?
Something about her wearing his mother’s gown?
Mavis hadn’t given much thought to it at the time, just agreed, thinking it was a promise she would never need to keep, but that was before she knew how quickly Thaddeus intended to marry her.
The wedding was one month away now, so she supposed she shouldn’t be altogether surprised that there was a gown for her to try on after all.
Since she was desperate to do something, she decided the dress offered the perfect opportunity to focus her attention on the Mayles sibling she actually could still work on and sent a message to Oriana, asking to meet her at the modiste.
When Mavis arrived at the shop a little after noon, Oriana was already there, dressed in a simple cotton dress the bright green of a budding spring, her hair loose around her shoulders in a way Mavis had never seen her wear it before.
Usually, it was twisted up into one of the elaborate styles that covered the pages of fashion magazines, and Mavis hadn’t realized how long it was, falling nearly to her waist in soft golden waves that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight that poured through the shop window, making her look like a princess out of some kind of children’s story.
“Delphinia.” Oriana greeted her with a smile before clasping her hands and squeezing them. “I was so happy to receive your invitation—I can’t wait to see you in my mother’s gown. I’m sure you will be absolutely stunning.”
“I’m so glad you could come on such short notice,” Mavis told her. “Truth be told, I forgot Thaddeus mentioned your mother’s gown. Surely, you should wear it for your own wedding, no?”
Oriana waved the words away. “Oh, I’m sure my mother would be thrilled that you’re wearing it—she would have adored you.”
Mavis was aware of Oriana trying to change the subject, but the seamstress, Sally, interrupted, leading them to the back room, where a froth of ivory lace and satin was waiting, draped over the back of a chaise.
Even at a distance, it was hideous, with long sleeves covered in more ruffles than Mavis had ever seen in her life and a high neckline that looked like it would choke her.
It must have been the style some decades ago, but that time was long gone.
“I’ll leave you to undress, Miss Lindcourt,” Sally said before bobbing a curtsy and leaving them alone.
When she was gone, Mavis made a show of examining the gown, tracing her fingers over the embroidered flowers that were the only part Mavis could find to like before trying to steer her conversation with Oriana back on course.
“A wedding isn’t so far off on the horizon, is it?
” she asked her, keeping her voice casual.
“You and Mr. Ryskamp looked quite cozy at the pageant, after all.”
Oriana huffed a sigh at that, collapsing onto the chaise. “Delphinia, as much as I do appreciate your attempts to help find me a husband—”
“You certainly do not,” Mavis interrupted with a laugh. “Please, let’s speak honestly, shall we?” Honesty was not something Mavis could give, but she could peel a layer of artifice away and call it truth, and that would be enough.
If anything, Oriana looked even more wary. “Very well, if that is what you wish,” she said slowly. “I’m very tired of being the subject of so much matchmaking, by you, by Thaddeus, by everyone, it seems.”
Mavis nodded. “I can’t blame you for that—it must get very tiring.”
“I know you all mean well—”
“We don’t,” Mavis interrupted. When Oriana looked surprised, Mavis shrugged.
She crossed behind the silk screen to remove her dress while she talked.
“Well, if we’re speaking honestly, my matchmaking attempts have been quite selfish.
I thought it would be easiest for Thaddeus and me to begin our married life without him constantly worrying about your prospects,” she said, which was a lie, but she followed it up with a bolt of pure truth.
“And, of course, Thaddeus’s motives were selfish because he hoped to marry you off to some nincompoop so he wouldn’t have to spend so much on your care and upkeep.
Gods of Old knows his club bills alone probably cost twice what you spend at the modiste in a given month, but he could be down to his last sola and he still wouldn’t give that up. ”
It was a risk, revealing what Mavis knew, what she was sure Oriana knew as well, but a calculated one.
Oriana didn’t say anything for a moment.
Mavis waited, unlacing her cotton day dress and stepping out of it.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror—her chemise was the wrong cut to wear with the dress, but it would do for a fitting, she supposed.
It was all a farce anyway—she was never going to wear this dress to walk down the aisle.
Though she would have been perfectly comfortable wearing just the chemise, she knew Oriana’s delicate sensibilities would expect more modesty, so she took the silk dressing gown from where it hung on the wall and pulled it over her, tying the sash in a bow.
“My brother loves me,” Oriana said, her voice quiet but firm.
Thaddeus didn’t seem capable of loving anyone but Thaddeus, but Mavis knew better than to try to convince Oriana of that. She could sooner convince her that the sky was fuchsia.
She came to sit in the chair across from Oriana. “But you’re aware of his financial woes?”
Oriana grimaced. “I suspected, though he hasn’t burdened me with them.
It’s difficult not to notice how our staff continues to dwindle and heirlooms that have been in our family for centuries suddenly disappear without explanation.
And then there was you,” she added as an afterthought before pausing. “Speaking honestly, of course.”
“Of course.” A wry note slipped into Mavis’s voice that was not at all like Delphinia Lindcourt. “I do have quite a dowry.”
Oriana’s gray eyes went wide. “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that was the only reason he wants to marry you,” she said quickly. “Just that it all happened so quickly.”
Oriana Mayles was not made for subterfuge and secrets. As a currency, such things held no value for a girl like her.
“It did,” Mavis agreed. “But when you know someone is right for you, the number of days or weeks you’ve spent together seems inconsequential. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. You’re enjoying your time with Mr. Ryskamp, aren’t you?”
Oriana’s smile was utterly guileless. “Of course. Arden is quite the catch.”