“You? Never!” Emily laughed off the idea. “You could never fade into the background.”
Yet Grace went on at length of how it was not true, and Emily looked back at her sister in surprise. Emily had always felt inferior to her sister’s slim and very elegant beauty, but Grace was the one who sounded as if she felt inferior now.
Perhaps things are not as I always thought them to be.
Emily twirled round in the mirror one last time, examining the back and the short train with the red embroidered material shining strongly in the daylight. Her last thought before the modiste took it off again was of Aaron.I hope he likes it.
* * *
“They are here!” Grace’s excited call made Emily look up from her book. She had been hiding in the library once again. She was so close to finishing off the Captain’s and Elizabeth’s story, she was intent on ending it soon, for she so longed to know if their love came to fruition or not, yet it seemed she would not be given satisfaction that day.
Julia’s head appeared in the doorway of the library.
“Found you,” she declared, hurrying inside.
“Damn, and I was hiding so well,” Emily mocked herself, gesturing down at the chair where she had been sitting. “Perhaps if I had built up a bigger pile of books in front of me you would not have been able to find me. Though it would have to be a very big pile indeed.”
“No more of that.” Julia brushed off her words and reached for her hand. “Put down that book.”
“Where are we going?” Emily asked as she closed up the book and stood to her feet, following Julia out of the library.
“Did you not hear Grace? They are here.”
“Who is here?”
“Not who. What.”
“Very well, thenwhatis here? You are still not giving me an answer, despite my ineptitude at asking the question.” Emily’s tease made Julia laugh again just as they stepped out into the entrance hall of the house.
“The gowns are here,” Julia said, gesturing toward where the modiste’s delivery had been made.
In the middle of the entrance hall, the maids were holding up dress boxes, each one pinned with paper to say who the gown belonged to. Grace and Charity were beside the maids, already delving into their own boxes with speed.
Charity’s dress was the first to come out. Elegant cream with soft embroidery, it was both regal and demure, quite perfect for Charity. She held it up against her body and turned round to the younger women, clearly longing for their opinions.
“Oh Mama, it is beautiful.” Emily rushed forward and fussed with the skirt. “That modiste is a wonder, what she can do with this material.”
“It is true. Quick, open yours,” Charity urged Emily forward. Yet she did not open her gown just yet. Instead, she watched as Grace opened her dress, of light blue silk rimmed at the bottom hem and along the bust with white lace. Grace was so busy gushing over it, spinning around in a circle that she nearly fell over some of the other boxes.
“Careful, Grace,” Emily said with a giggle. “You are so excited you are like a newborn deer, walking for the first time.”
“I feel like one.” Grace pretended she was struggling to walk, making them all laugh before Emily turned to her own box.
She lifted the lid, just as something felt wrong. The tissue paper that covered the gown was ripped. Thinking it must have been damaged in transport, she pushed the tissue paper to the side and reached for the sleeves of the gown. Yet as she pulled it out of the box, a beautiful gown was not revealed.
It was still intact, but barely. Huge cuts and slashes had been made in the material, cutting it through to such a degree that in some places, sections were barely hanging on by a thread.
“My goodness.” Julia practically tripped on the marble floor in her effort to reach Emily’s side. “How can this happen?”
Emily could not answer. It was plain to see the slash marks. Someone had taken tailoring scissors to the material, cutting it up beyond all recognition.
“Has there been some awful accident?” Charity asked, stumbling forward too.
“An accident? How can it be an accident?” Julia mumbled in wonder as she took the material from Emily’s hands. “Someone has cut it. They have vandalized the gown.”
In their harried movements, what was left of the dress holding itself together tore apart, leaving part of it in Emily’s hands and the other part in Julia’s.
“God’s wounds,” Julia muttered, almost letting what was left of the dress in her grasp fall to the floor.