Page 41 of The Duke's Inconvenient Bride
Emma’s heart lifted. Perhaps she wasn’t getting the husband she’d anticipated, but seeing her mother happy made her think the sacrifice might be worth it.
“More than ‘accepted,’ I would say,” Madam Baptiste replied, her burgundy skirt swishing as she turned to face them. “With a duke as a son-in-law, they will fall over themselves to get into your good graces.”
“They had better.” Despite the tartness of her tone, Lady Carlisle seemed pleased.
“Don’t forget what they did to you,” Sophie said. “They were ready to make us outcasts only ten days ago.”
“And now everything is better,” Lady Carlisle said with determined cheer.
Madam Baptiste gestured to the pedestal. “Lady Emma, would you please stand there?”
Emma complied, twisting the end of her braided hair self-consciously as the modiste circled her. The woman’s face never betrayed her thoughts, so it was impossible to know whether or not she approved of what she saw.
“You are to be a duchess, so you will need more than a wedding gown,” she said, crossing her arms as she scrutinized Emma from head to toe. “You will need a wardrobe of beautiful gowns to choose from, but we’ll start with wedding attire, since that’s the most exciting and urgent event.”
“Will I get a new dress too?” Sophie asked.
“Yes, dear,” Lady Carlisle said. “You and I will both need something for the wedding, but let’s deal with Emma first.”
“Lady Emma,” Madam Baptiste said. “What style of wedding gown would you like?”
“I think—”
“Something exquisite,” Lady Carlisle interrupted. “White, obviously, but perhaps with a slight pink sheen. Emma looks good in pink.”
Emma cleared her throat and shot her mother a look.
Lady Carlisle wrinkled her nose. “Of course, only if that’s what you would like. It’s your wedding.”
Emma grinned, surprised by how good it felt to get the opportunity to give her opinion. She wasn’t sure she’d receive the same level of consideration from her mother if she wasn’t so aware of what Emma was giving up for the family.
“I would like something simple but elegant,” Emma said. “I don’t need an intricate or fussy gown, but I do agree with my mother's suggestion of white with a hint of pink.”
“Very nice. Let me get some samples for you.”
Madam Baptiste went through the door to the shop. She returned after only a few moments with a selection of fabrics draped over her arm.
“What do you think of this?” she asked, holding a scrap of embroidered white lace up to Emma.
“It’s a bit… too much,” Emma said. “Lace is fine, but perhaps something more understated.”
They tried several more options before deciding on a white fabric for the bodice and underskirt with a fine lace of the palest pink to layer over the skirt.
Emma did her best to stand still while the modiste and her assistant measured her and pinned fabric into place around her, flinching when the assistant accidentally stabbed her with a pin.
Lady Carlisle watched eagerly, but Sophie had retreated to the corner, and she seemed to be deep in thought.
“What color would you like to wear?” Emma asked her sister.
Sophie looked up, but rather than answering Emma, she took her by surprise.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. “I’ll be fine, and so will Mother and Father even if they don’t think so now.”
Lady Carlisle gasped. “Sophie!”
Sophie just shrugged.
Emma’s chest constricted. “That’s very sweet of you, Sophie, but I feel I must. It will be for the best. You’ll see.”
