Page 100 of A Touch of Charm
Andre handed her a blank sheet.
“Now, the decorations. What’s your favorite color?”
“Purple.”
“And flower?”
“Roses.”
“There are no purple roses in England. How about pink?”
“It’s not Mary’s ball you are hosting, is it?” Thea asked, and both women laughed heartily.
Andre rose and seemed ready to leave them to plan the event of the season when Anna grabbed his arm. “Brother, you need evening attire.”
I need reinforcememts to keep Thea and Mary safe among three hundred guests plus the staff. List won’t remain far off.
“I have evening attire. My friends were just married, and I have—”
“No. You need light drab colored kerseymere breeches and blue tailcoats with large flat gilt buttons and with or without black-velvet collars; that’s your choice. It’s our Viennese tradition.”
“Ehm…” Andre sent Thea a please-help-me look, but she merely giggled. “I don’t like black collars. What’s the matter with my cravat?” Not that he cared about the cravat considering Thea was going to be in a crowd with three hundred people and List would likely be there with who knew how many of his lackeys.
“Ah!” Anna rubbed her forehead. “He’s like Father, always more focused on practical clothing than the looks.”
“What’s wrong with how I look?” Andre crossed his arms and tilted his head. Thea eyed him top to bottom and seemed to rather like how he looked.She needs to stop looking at me like that…
“Turn around,” Anna said in a swirling motion. “There we have it, “She pointed at his bottom.
Thea tilted her head. She looked long and hard, but there wasn’t anything amiss with the shapely and muscular bottom of her fiancé.
“It’s lovely, sister, truly. In all these years that I’ve missed you, nobody has commented on the shape of my bottom quite as much as you. Especially in front of—”
“A princess?” Thea giggled.
Andre sighed.
“You are wearing clothes tailored for practicality, Andre. You look as if you were riding daily, taming wild horses, or cutting wood for the winter.”
“What does that even mean?” Andre grimaced.
Thea shrugged but blushed rather pleasingly.
“Just go to the tailor and have him measure you. If our mother sees you like this… you look like a wild stallion with all this muscle.”
Andre suppressed a grin and winked at Thea. She giggled again.
Thus, an hour later, Andre stepped into the tailor’s shop, the smell of rich fabrics and freshly pressed linens enveloping him. The quiet shuffle of the older tailor, Mr. Hollingsworth, filled the small room as he approached with purpose, tape measure in hand.
“Ah, Dr. Fernando,” Hollingsworth greeted, his voice warm and familiar. “A pleasure to see you. I’ve been hoping to repay you for your ingenious treatment of my hands.”
“I’m glad to have been of help.” Andre inclined his head.
“And you finally decided that I may repay you?” Mr. Hollingsworth rang a bell and Margaret from the store on Regent Street appeared. Oh how good of Mr. Hollingsworth to have hired her. She had the bandage on and walked with a crutch but sat down at a comfortable-looking chair, and had a sewing table near a brightly lit window.
“With evening wear.” Andre smiled.
“For a wedding?”
