Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Lydia was in the sitting room waiting for the arrival of the modiste.
A book lay open in her lap although she had not turned a page in quite some time.
Her thoughts lingered on Victor. Just when she thought they were forming a connection, he acted obtuse and didn’t even acknowledge the tenderness that had passed between them through the night.
Lydia was forced to wonder whether it had happened at all or if it was just a piece of magic that had occurred during the night. She’d hinted, she’d stared, she’d given him many opportunities to speak about the brief kiss, and yet he had said nothing.
“I’m not about to humiliate myself,” she muttered, angrily flicking a page.
Perhaps that’s what he wanted, for her to act all starry-eyed, as though this kiss was all she had dreamed of and was the crowning moment of her life.
It would certainly marry with the arrogance he displayed when he declared that he would choose her gown.
Did he think that she was a child who could not select an appropriate outfit?
He hardly seemed to know her at all, and at every turn, there was a reminder of his insufferable nature.
“Oh, this is a marvelous house, just marvelous! I’ve passed it quite a few times, and I’ve always wondered what it looks like inside.
You’re doing a stand-up job, my good man.
I haven’t noticed a speck of dust. Not a speck!
” A lilting voice was audile. Lydia put the book away and smoothed out her dress, forming a smile on her face.
The modiste came into the room like a burst of sunshine. She had radiant golden hair that fell past her shoulders in thick curls. A broad smile rested upon her face, and her eyes twinkled like sapphires. She was short and stocky. With her stature and her demeanor,
she seemed to fill the room.
She was joined by an unsettlingly tall, stoic man whose pallor was dull, as though he had not seen the sun for some years. The contrast was more striking because of the differences between them. The man moved rigidly as he opened a chest and began pulling out dresses.
“Your Grace, it’s such an honor to meet you. I am Melody Chambers, the best modiste outside of London, if you will permit me a moment to boast. And this is my loyal assistant, Hom.”
“Miss. Chambers, Mr. Hom,” Lydia said, nodding to them both.
Melody held up a finger. “Not Mister Hom, just Hom. He comes from a remote European land and doesn’t speak a word of English, but somehow, he always knows what I’m thinking.” She flashed a smile to Hom. Hom merely dipped his head and made a guttural sound.
“Now then…” Melody clapped her hands together. “I believe you are to attend a ball, and I was told that you need something elegant and striking but traditional as well.”
“We are representing the household, and it’s important that everything should be proper,” Lydia said, echoing Victor’s sentiments.
“Indeed, indeed, well, I always value tradition. Too many people are eager to shock with their dresses, and I think that’s a cheap trick.
There’s a grace in tradition, and I always feel that we should respect what came before.
” Melody then leaned towards Hom and spoke out of the corner of her mouth.
“Leave those ones,” she whispered, waving a hand through the air.
Hom inclined his head and draped clothes over the suite.
Melody walked up to Lydia, and without any request or invitation, she held Lydia’s arms out and ran her hands along the underside of them before then following the angles of Lydia’s body down to her hips.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure I have some dresses that are the perfect fit for you.
You have a figure that is a delight for modistes!
It shall look like the gods have draped you in their clothes, I’m sure.
Now, if you would just turn around for me,” Melody said, showing surprising strength as she twisted Lydia’s hips.
Lydia gasped somewhat as she was turned around abruptly.
She bent over, placing her hands on the top of the chair.
Melody ran her hand down and then bent, taking the measure of Lydia’s legs.
“Perfectly in proportion, just as it should be. Not like me. I’m too lumpy, like my mother’s porridge,” she laughed.
“Is everything progressing as expected?” Victor asked.
Lydia had not seen him enter the room because her back was turned.
She angled her head and looked over her shoulder, her cheeks turning crimson when she realized that Victor was staring at her in this unusual and perhaps compromising position.
He quickly averted his gaze although she could still feel it passing down her back, along her bottom.
“Ah, Your Grace! It’s such a pleasure to meet you, and I’d like to thank you most kindly for engaging my services. To serve your family is the highest honor, and I shall boast about it to everyone,” Melody said.
Victor inclined his head.
“I was informed that you were the best,” he said and then looked towards Hom, who was still busy arranging the dresses.
“Indeed, indeed. I’ve paid a lot of people to say that.” She winked and nudged Lydia. Her laugh was warm. “I’m only joking. Don’t mind him by the way. That’s just Hom. You get used to him eventually, and he blends into the background. I like to think of him as a tall lamp.”
“Mr. Hom,” Victor said, tilting his head back as he stared up at Hom.
“It’s just Hom,” Melody and Lydia said in unison. Victor had a baffled look on his face which Lydia found amusing.
“I was just measuring your wife, and I think I have the perfect dress for her, Your Grace.” Melody abruptly pulled Lydia around and then swanned across the room, gathering a pale-yellow dress in her arms. Lydia teetered to the side, almost losing her balance.
Victor went to take a seat, but Hom pointed to one of the dresses.
Victor had almost sat upon it, and the stony, silent glare on Hom’s face encouraged Victor to move.
“Now, try this one on for size,” Melody said, handing the dress to Lydia.
A butler had moved her screen from her chamber to this room.
Lydia took the dress behind it and changed, a maid coming with her.
As the clothes slipped away from her skin, she became acutely aware that Victor was sitting on the other side of the screen.
There was only a thin barrier between them, and his eyes might well have focused on the screen.
Was his gaze penetrating enough to see through the screen?
It was impossible, she knew, and yet the thought made her skin tingle uncomfortably anyway.
Trembling breaths passed between her lips, and her heartbeat was rapid.
“Oh, that looks wonderful,” Melody said. “You look like you should be in a palace—not that this estate isn’t a palace, Your Grace,” she caught herself.
Lydia held her head high and clasped her hands in front of her abdomen.
“It is… adequate,” Victor said.
“Adequate? Your Grace, you won’t find finer threading anywhere,” Melody replied then turned to Lydia. “How does it feel? After all, everyone else only has to look at it while you have to wear it.”
Lydia was almost tempted to declare that she loved the dress if only to test Victor, but if she was going to do that, it would not be with this dress.
“Actually, it is a little tight,” she said, running her hands over her waist where the dress pinched.
“Oh dear, we can’t have that. Perhaps my eyes are not as good as they used to be. It happens to everyone, you know,” Melody said, rushing towards Lydia and escorting her back to the screen. “You get changed, and I’ll hand you another dress. Hom!” she summoned and turned away.
Lydia took the next dress, and she immediately knew that this one would not do.
“I don’t believe I need to show you this. I can feel that it isn’t right,” she said.
“I think we should see anyway, if only to be thorough,” Victor replied. Lydia lifted her gaze to the ceiling as she emerged from behind the screen.
“Why is the dress so heavy?” she asked. She could feel the weight pressing upon her shoulders and making her bow. Her knees bent under the pressure, and she didn’t think it would be long before she was sweating.
“Because it’s made with sturdy thread. It’s dependable, and it won’t let you down, but perhaps, it is suited for the winter period. Let’s try again,” Melody said, and once again, Lydia moved behind the screen.
There would have been some women who would have loved trying on all these different dresses.
Lydia felt as though her grandmother would have been brimming with happiness, but it soon became interminable to her.
Getting in and out of the dresses was an ordeal, even with the help of a maid, and it didn’t help that Victor didn’t seem to be impressed by anything.
Melody’s enthusiasm was indefatigable, and she sang the praises of every dress she presented to Lydia until it was deemed inadequate, and then Melody quickly disparaged them.
Some dresses were too tight, some too colorful, some were billowing, and some weren’t billowing enough.
There were long sleeves, short sleeves, bright colors, pale colors, and while there were elements that Lydia and Victor liked, there didn’t seem to be a single dress that contained all the elements they both sought.
She liked some, and he liked others, but they both made it clear that they needed to reach a consensus. Hom dutifully moved dresses out of the chest and onto the suite and then back again.
“How can there be no suitable dresses? I feel as though we have been through all the clothes in England,” Victor muttered. His patience had run thin, and Lydia wondered at which point he regretted agreeing to judge her gown.
“A little patience is all that’s required.
A dress can be a delicate thing to choose.
It will become a trusted companion, going about with you all evening.
It’s not a decision that can be made lightly, just like finding a husband.
You wouldn’t want to rush into that, would you? ” Melody tittered with laughter.
Lydia and Victor shared an uneasy glance.
“Now, there must be one last dress in there,” Melody continued. “I know that this process can be trying, but it always helps to refine the ideas and with each dress that’s discarded we have a better idea of what we’re looking for.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lydia said. In truth, she was beginning to lose faith. It didn’t feel as though she had a better idea of what she wanted at all. In fact, she had seen so many different dresses in distinct colors and styles that she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to wear a dress at all.
Then, Hom picked out one final garment. It didn’t look like much in his hands. The color was a little drab, and there wasn’t a flow to the gown. Melody’s smile was strained as she handed it to Lydia.
“If this one doesn’t work, then tomorrow you shall come to my shop, and we will go through every dress that I own.
If there are still none that are suitable, then Hom and I shall stay up through the night, and I will work my fingers to the bone to create a gown in time.
Melody Chambers will not let you down! That is a guarantee,” she said.
Lydia’s heart sank. The last thing she wanted was to spend the entire day trying on dresses.
This was all Victor’s fault, she thought.
If he wasn’t so adamant about her wearing a new gown, then she could have worn one that she already owned, and there would not have been these problems.
The maid fastened the dress. It had lace woven into it that could be pulled to tighten the dress around Lydia’s figure.
It was light blue in color, with darker blue lace woven around it, creating swirling patterns.
It left her neck exposed, and the neckline was a little lower than she liked.
The beginnings of her collarbones were visible, and she was left with the feeling that it might slip off her shoulders if she wasn’t careful.
However, it was not tight or heavy, nor did it make her skin itch.
She emerged from behind the screen. Victor was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped between his legs.
He lifted his head which had been bowed in frustration.
The look in his eyes suggested that he did not expect much from this final dress and in fact the whole thing seemed like a futile endeavor, but that look quickly disappeared.
Instead, he looked enthralled and enchanted.
His mouth dropped agape, and Lydia felt the weight of his stare upon her.
It was almost as though he was seeing a woman for the first time.
His eyes were unblinking and his hands fell apart from each other.
He rose from the chair. Lydia turned her head away coyly, feeling a flush of heat upon her cheeks.
Nobody had ever looked at her with such warm desire before.
The best she had ever received was a leer.
“Sometimes the dress makes the lady, but in this case, the lady most definitely makes the dress. Your Grace, don’t you agree? She looks exquisite,” Melody said.
Victor might as well have been in a daze. He took a moment longer to respond than he usually would have.
“Yes… quite exquisite,” he said. The words burned in the air. There was an edge to them that felt as though it cut across Lydia’s flesh like a razor. Breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at her dress, knowing now that this was the one.
However, while Lydia appreciated this attention and found that it stirred something surprising within her, she did not wish to give him any satisfaction with knowing that she welcomed his attention.
His lack of acknowledgement of the moment they shared beside the fire stung her, and she would not meet this slight with forgiveness.
She raised her neck and took a deep breath which made the entire dress shift along the soft shape of her body. Victor’s eyes went wide, and then his hand rose to his mouth.
“I think indeed we have found a dress that will be suitable. I want to make clear that I do not wear this to seek your approval, Victor,” Lydia said firmly.
“I think you have it anyway. If you weren’t married, I’m sure that every eligible man in London would seek your hand,” Melody chuckled. Lydia ducked behind the screen again, thinking about Victor’s heavy gaze. She exhaled deeply and wondered if it meant anything.
Perhaps she should have abandoned this way of thinking because it could not lead to anything anyway. Did she even want him to be attracted to her? Only if she could use it to torment him… but even then, she was not a mean-spirited individual, and revenge was not in her nature.
It was probably best that their relationship was nothing more than cordial, but even as she resigned herself to this, she found herself wondering how she was ever going to be able to forget the way he looked at her.