“I love this color, and it shall be perfect for a wedding dress.”
“Look here, Diana.”
“No, this one.”
Diana stared back and forth between her sisters. They hadn’t been in such a frenzy since… well, she didn’t know when, but her mother pursed her lips, shook her head, and directed her attention to the fabric in her hands.
“This fabric, Diana, is the one we were discussing. What say you?”
“It is lovely,” Diana agreed.
“Excellent, it’s settled then,” her mother declared.
“However,” Diana interjected as her mother turned toward the modiste.
Everyone turned back to her again.
“I do not believe it will suffice for my wedding. It is not the color I should like.” She strolled about the room, ignoring the look her mother cast in her direction and instead examining fabrics herself. “I like this one. What say you to that?”
Her sisters immediately fawned over her choice, rushing closer to see it. But she could tell not everyone was pleased.
“That? Why, it’s far too dark for a wedding gown.”
“It’s a lovely color. And I like the feel of the material. It’s very soft.”
“Soft. What does that matter?” her mother scoffed.
Diana frowned. “I would wish to be comfortable on my wedding day.”
“Comfort is of no significance,” her mother retorted.
But Diana stood firm. “I like this one. And I would like this to be used in the making of my gown,” she stated firmly to the modiste.
The woman looked startled, and more than a little uncomfortable, glancing between Diana and her mother, but she finally gave a short nod and turned toward her assistant. “You heard her, girl. Pack away the other material, we shall need to get the measurements for the design.”
The girl began quickly bundling away fabrics and setting them to the side to be loaded back into their carriage. But as she gathered the last one, it suddenly unspooled in her arms and pooled around her feet. Her loud cry alerted all of them just before she stumbled over the ripples of fabric.
“Ah! Be careful. That fabric is very delicate!” the modiste exclaimed.
Diana frowned, rushing forward to help the poor girl up. “Are you quite all right?”
“Yes, thank you,” the girl replied, looking more embarrassed than anything. She kept her head down, rolled the spool back together, and quickly put it with the rest before turning toward Diana again. “We shall need a great deal of measurements,” she stated.
Diana gave a nod, encouraging her to continue.
“Now, we’ll start with the basic measurements, of course,” the modiste began. “And while that is done, we can discuss the design that you desire. We have plenty of fabric to make something truly spectacular.”
The modiste seemed quite confident, even though Diana knew her mother must have given the woman the timeline for the wedding.
“She’ll need a long train, of course,” the Countess announced.
“And a lace veil!” Arabella piped up.
“And perhaps a shawl around her arms,” Valery added. “They’re so lovely and romantic.”
Once again, they were talking over each other, and the modiste looked a little overwhelmed. And Diana…
“Please.” But there was no acknowledgment of her spoken word. “I beg your pardon,” she tried again, but still there was no response. “Silence!” she cried out. Everyone turned to her, evenmore stunned this time. “I shall decide on the style of my gown,” she announced, and once again her mother looked unhappy, to say the least. “I should like a train. However, it shall not be too long. I will need to be able to walk down the aisle in it, after all.”
