Page 119 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
February, 1820
As a hairpin duginto the side of her head, Emma couldn’t help feeling as if, in some ways, her wedding day was repeating itself.
Here she was, once again, seated in her former bedroom with Daisy dressing her hair while Emma watched in the reflection of the massive, gilded mirror. Daisy had promised nothing too elaborate, and Emma was enjoying the process of seeing her creation take shape.
“Daisy, are you sure you don’t wish to remain in London?” Sophie asked from where she said beside Violet on the chaise. “You dress hair so beautifully.”
Daisy’s reflection beamed. “Thank you, Lady Sophie, but no. I’m perfectly content returning to Norfolk.”
Sophie pouted but didn’t seem upset. She’d probably known before she’d asked that Daisy would never accept her invitation.
Daisy’s cheeks were flushed, and Emma narrowed her eyes.
“Is there something you haven’t told me?” Emma asked.
Daisy shrugged. “One of the footmen at Ashford Hall is very handsome, and he has a mind to court me.” An impish smile appeared. “I have a mind to let him.”
“That’s wonderful,” Emma exclaimed.
“I can work with Jane next time we’re in London,” Daisy told Sophie, apparently unwilling to gossip more. “It wouldn’t take much for her to be as good as me. Or, if you visit Norfolk, I could teach her then.”
“That would be excellent,” Sophie said. “Thank you.”
“Emma…,” Violet began. “Are you sure—?”
“It’s fine for you to be at the ceremony,” Emma said, not for the first time.
She, too, had worried that Vaughan may not want Violet present, but he’d insisted. He’d assured Emma that he didn’t harbor any feelings toward her sister, good or ill, and that he wanted everything exactly as she desired it.
How had she gotten so lucky?
“You’re doing it again,” Sophie teased. “Your eyes are all moony.”
“Leave her alone,” Violet said. “She’s in love. She’s allowed to be moony.”
Emma laughed. If someone had told her six months ago that Violet would be defending her right to be a fool in love, she’d have thought they’d lost their minds. Yet here they were.
“I’m glad you’re all here,” Emma said, affection building in her chest.
“We are too,” Violet said.
“And we’re glad you’re happy,” Sophie added.
“Also, your hair is done.” Daisy stepped back and held up a small mirror to the back of Emma’s head to allow her to see her work. The gold strands were woven into a deceptively simple arrangement that somehow looked both regal and ethereal.
“I have never seen a finer arrangement,” Emma said, unable to take her eyes off it.
“Now we just need to get you into your gown without mussing it,” Daisy said.
Emma stood and turned to study her gown, which was hanging from the railing in the open wardrobe. It was the same gown she’d worn for their actual wedding because it was the one thing from that day she’d unreservedly loved. However, a seamstress had been hired to let out the waist and bodice, since she was beginning to thicken.
Fortunately, pregnancy had not made her horrifically ill. Not yet, at least.
“How about a joint effort?” Violet suggested, crossing the room to help Daisy remove the gown from its hanger.
Daisy glanced at her in surprise. “My lady?”
“It will be easier if we do it together, no?” Violet asked.
