Rose raised an eyebrow. "I do not want to impose."
"It is no imposition," Thomas assured her. "My mother would be happy to help. She has a vast collection of dresses that she rarely wears. You will find something you like, I am sure."
Rose nodded, still feeling a sense of unease about the entire situation. "All right, I will go. But I will need some time to prepare."
Thomas smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Take all the time you need."
Upstairs, the maid, Hannah, helped her with her hair. She used her fingers to twist her hair into lovely ringlets that framed her face while taking her remaining locks and forming them into an intricate updo.
"I shall need a gown to wear," Rose said, admiring her hair. "This is lovely, Hannah. Thank you."
"Thank you. I shall get your gowns and lay them out on the bed." Hannah curtsied and quickly left the room before returning with three gowns over her arm. She laid them out on the bed for Rose's inspection.
Rose was shocked when she saw the three beautiful gowns laid out on the bed. They were made of the finest silks and adorned with delicate lace and sparkling gems. She had never seen anything like them before.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called, her voice trembling with anger.
Thomas entered the room, a smug look on his face. "I hope you like the gowns I picked out for you," he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "Please try them on so I can see how you look in them."
Rose's eyes narrowed. "You have no sense of decorum," she said, her voice shaking with anger. "You have no right to come in here and demand that I try on these gowns for you. This is highly improper."
Thomas chuckled. "I do not care about such trivial things," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I just want to see you try on these gowns and choose which one I like best."
Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "I refuse to do it," she said, her voice firm.
Thomas's expression grew serious. "You owe me," he said, his voice low. "And I will let you go once you help me. Now try on the gowns."
Feeling like a fool, Rose tried on each of the gowns and paraded in front of Thomas. When she tried on the first one, a beautiful silver gown with white lace, he drank in the sight of her. "You look like a Greek goddess in that gown." He stepped closer and Rose's breath caught in her throat. "Like the goddess of the moon waiting for the sun god to appear."
Rose stepped back and swallowed. "Perhaps it is too pale with my complexion." She hurried away to don the next gown.
When she stepped into the room again after several minutes, Thomas's eyes darkened. The gown was a stunning indigo blue, but the neckline was immodest and far different from any gown that she had ever worn. She imagined that her mother would faint from the sight of it.
Thomas walked over to Rose, his eyes never leaving her. "You look stunning, Lady Rose," he said in a low voice. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, sending shivers down her spine.
Rose felt herself blushing, and her heart felt as if it stopped for a moment. "Thank you, Your Grace," she said, trying to sound composed. "I will go try on the last gown now." She quickly turned and left the room, feeling grateful for the excuse to escape from his intense gaze. She could feel his eyes following her.
After the last gown had been donned and appraised by Thomas's critical eye, he asked her which dress she preferred.
"I liked the indigo-blue one," Rose said.
Thomas frowned. "As much as I could appreciate you in that dress, it is too daring and not at all appropriate for this evening." He picked up the last gown, which was the most modest and, in Rose's opinion, the least flattering to her figure.
"But I prefer this one," Rose said, her tone defiant as she picked up the low-cut indigo gown.
"You will wear this one," he said, pointing to the modest gown. "I will be waiting for you in the carriage with my mother."
Rose sighed and began to get ready, feeling trapped and hopeless. She had never felt so helpless in her life. She looked over at the gowns.
But perhaps there is some small thing I can do to take back control.
A small smile played upon her lips as she lifted up the gown and beckoned Hannah over to help her dress.
Chapter Eight
William sighed as he tightened the straps on his horse's saddle. Unease had settled in the pit of his stomach. It had been three days since Rose had disappeared, and there had been no sign of her. He glanced over at Cassian, who was busy saddling his own horse.
"Ready?" William asked, trying to keep his tone light.
