“Anything?” the lady said excitedly, clasping hands together that were worn from years of sewing. “How thrilling! And what would the young lady like?”
“I… erm…” Margaret struggled for words, looking between the lady and Theodore. “Theo? Are you certain of this?”
She could have sworn his lips tweaked up into a small smile.
Wait… does he like it when I call him that?
She had done it quite naturally, without even thinking about it.
“Absolutely.” He spoke without hesitation then turned to the modiste. “Duke and Duchess of Thornfield.” He introduced the two of them. The older lady was so quick to descend into a curtsy that Margaret feared she would fall.
“Your Grace.” She smiled in a delighted sort of way. “I am Mrs. Sinclair. I will be thrilled to help you in any way I can today. Now.” She clapped her hands together and turned to face Margaret. “I think a new pelisse, and perhaps some new gloves too, Your Grace. These have a few holes in them.”
Margaret clasped her hands together self-consciously.
“And for dresses, would we like both everyday dresses and evening dresses?”
“Surely, so much isn’t necessary –”
“Yes, she will need it all,” Theodore cut her off with ease, smiling when she looked at him with daggers. “What material do you like, Margaret?”
“I…” She trailed off. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had stood in a shop and pointed out a material she liked. When she purchased a dress in the past, it was usually amended from an existing dress in the modiste’s collection.
Theodore must have sensed her reticence, for he turned to a stack of bolts, looking up and down.
“You suit green,” he mused, gesturing to soft sage greens and bright Pomona.
“I do?” she whispered, moving to his side. He leaned toward her.
“They match your eyes.”
She flinched in surprise, both at him noticing such a thing, and the fact that his lips had come so close. For a change, it had felt as if there wasn’t some ridiculously tall wall between them. It had almost felt as if they were indeed husband and wife.
“Then let’s get some of the greens out.” The modiste ran forward and collected the bolts of the stand. “Come with me, Your Grace.” She beamed up at Margaret. “Before the day is out, you shall have an entirely new wardrobe!”
She bustled off behind the velvet curtain. Margaret smiled at her but waited until she disappeared before she took Theodore’s arm.
“Surely, this is too much,” she whispered hastily to Theodore. “I have no need of new clothes.”
“You do not need them, no. You have things you can stand up in.” He raised his eyebrows. “But is it not nice to have money spent on you for a change?”
Her mouth felt dry.
Yes. It is.
It was a feeling completely foreign to her. Unsure what else to say, she felt her lips lift upwards.
“Is that a smile I see?” he repeated the same words she had said to him the day before. “It’s all right to smile in my company you know, Margaret.” Then he frowned. “Margaret feels too formal now. Would you complain if I were to address you as Maggie?”
“No. No, I would not complain.” Something had twisted excitedly in her stomach.
“Good, then I shall be back shortly, Maggie. Enjoy your time with the modiste.” Then he was gone, sweeping out of the shop with great speed and alacrity.
The modiste soon appeared back from behind the velvet curtain, clapping her hands together excitedly.
“Come, come, Your Grace. I have some wonderful things for you to try on.”
Feeling an excitement that she had never known before, Margaret followed her to the curtain.
