Page 81 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
Olivia’s bathwater had been prepared by the maids with more flowers, especially roses. They let up the most aromatic steam and she felt the scent seeping into her skin. It was the most exquisite bath she could ever have imagined and she was once more astounded that the earl had gone out of his way to do all of this for her.
It was after that, when she was preparing to dress and have her hair taken care of, that the next surprise came.
The earl had told her not to worry about the wedding dress. He would have that arranged as well. But Olivia had been rather anxious, having always dreamed of something quite specific.
And when the gown was presented to her, her breath caught. The exact gown that she had written into so many of her stories had been made to her measurements.
A faint shade of lilac, nearly white, with layer upon layer of lace and beading. It must have cost a fortune, and yet Olivia knew that it was a great gift that the earl had wished to bestow upon her.
When she put it on and saw how it fit to her exact measurements, she knew he must have taken it to the same dressmaker as before. It was perfect in every detail. Olivia was amazed and tears pricked at her eyes that he had ensured she had the gown she had longed for.
It helped her to relax when the maids began to work on her hair.
“Oh, I have something very specific I should like,” she told them.
The two ladies, not much older than herself, looked at one another.
“Excuse us, Miss, but we’ve already been instructed as to how we are to do your hair for the wedding today,” one said, with the other nodding in agreement.
Olivia was content. She knew it would either be the same as she had wished or something near enough. The earl had already gone out of his way to make sure that things were perfect. Why should she begin to doubt him now?
Indeed, when the two young ladies had completed her hair, it was braided around her head with little sprigs of baby’s breath dotted throughout it. Exactly as she had always wished for it to be.
In all the years of writing her stories, Olivia had never imagined that she would one day be able to live in one of them. Her fairytales had been fantastical, the stuff of imagination. They had been far beyond her own means and something she might never to attain. And yet, the earl had ensured thus far that every detail was what she had put to paper.
She could hardly imagine that he had worked this hard to complete each and every little thing on her list of desires.
“You look like a princess,” Louise gasped upon seeing her.
Gemma’s face lit up in disbelief. “Olivia,” she gasped.
“Do you really think I look all right?” she asked, nervously.
“Better. You look greater than I might ever have imagined anyone ever looking,” Louise laughed.
“Surely I look better than I do on most days, but I don’t know that I have quite reached the status of a princess,” Olivia chuckled in reply.
“Oh, but you have! The most beautiful of all princesses,” she insisted.
Olivia decided to take the compliment in the end. “And what of you two? I see that you’ve both had your hair completed and you look quite lovely. But what of your gowns?” she asked.
“Yes, Gemma, we must go and get dressed. Quickly. Our sister has much to do to finish her preparations and then we are off to the church,” Louise urged.
Olivia giggled as her sisters fled the room and left her to herself for a few moments. As much as she was enjoying their company, she was glad to have some time alone in which to write a letter to the man she was soon to marry.
The letter, of course, turned into a fairytale, continued from the one which he had written for her. Olivia placed her paper right behind his, finishing the story at the wedding day when the earl and Olivia finally married.
But that was still to come in reality, and Olivia was eager to get to the church.
Once she was ready, she made her way down the stairs and found her sisters already waiting for her. Lady Kirby came to usher them and tell them that the time had come.
“My goodness, Miss Digby. You look positively marvellous,” she exclaimed.
“You believe so?” Olivia asked, appreciating the compliment from a woman so glamorous as the dowager.
“Most definitely. My grandson shall not be able to take his eyes off you. Nor shall anyone else for that matter. You are a marvel indeed. Now, your father has already gone ahead, and we must be off. Your sisters and I shall take one coach and we have another for you,” she explained.
Olivia looked at her, curiously, uncertain as to what she meant by that.
