“But what if you don’t?” Iris mumbled.
“Nothing could stop your uncle coming back to you, not even the Devil himself.” Lydia squeezed her hand. “And I would move heaven and Earth to be by your side.”
“You promise?” Iris asked, her voice small and croaky.
“Of course.” Lydia gave Iris a hug. “And besides, we are not even leaving until tomorrow. Think of all the fun we can have before then.”
“Like what?” Iris asked, canting her head towards Lydia.
“Like this.” Lydia flicked a spoonful of preserves across the table, straight at the Duke.
For a moment, there was only silence around the table. Even Iris seemed to be holding her breath as Archer wiped the preserves off his crisp, white shirt.
He looked at her, his eyes dancing in the sunlight. “I suppose you think that was terribly clever, don’t you?”
“A little.” Lydia said, more bravely than she felt.
“Let’s see how clever you think this is.” He flicked a glob of butter at her which hit the side of her face. “I told you not to pick fights you cannot win.”
“And what makes you think she can’t win?” Cora said as she flung her own preserves at her brother.
Before long, the table descended into raucous chaos. Iris’ tears became tears of laughter, and soon everyone had such tears streaming down their face. The sound of their jubilation echoed down the halls, lifting a heaviness from Lydia that she had not even realized had been there.
Chapter Seventeen
Archer opened the carriage door onto Saint James Street. Lydia instantly recognized Mrs. Barkley’s shop, one of the best dressmakers in the ton. She looked at Archer suspiciously.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“Getting you a suitable dress to wear to the ball in a few days.”
“What’s wrong with the ones that I have?”
“Nothing. Except that they are not nearly as radiant as you need. They are beautiful, yes, but I thought you should have something special for this ball. I want all eyes to be on you. I want everyone to see you for the beauty that you are.” Archer swallowed, and Lydia was about to ask him what he was thinking when the door to Mrs. Barkley’s shop opened, and they stepped through.
Mrs. Barkley and her attendants greeted them.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Barkley bowed to the couple. “Welcome to my humble store. If you would follow me, we have some tea and biscuits prepared while you peruse our catalogs.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Barkley.” Archer inclined his head towards the dressmaker.
“My dear Duchess, it’s been too long,” Mrs. Barkley said as she curtseyed to Lydia. “In fact, the last time we spoke you were awaiting your debut! Don’t worry—I was not offended when you want to Mrs. Jerry’s—I know you were after something more sedate for your new wardrobe. But now… Now is the time for you to shine, dearest! How time flies, does it not?”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Lydia smiled.
“Please do follow me to the back. My attendants will retake your measurements.” Mrs. Barkley glanced back at the Duke. “She will only be a moment, Your Grace.”
“Carry on.” Archer waved his hand. “I’m sure I can amuse myself while I wait.”
Moments later, Lydia rejoined Archer in the viewing room. Taking a seat, she brushed her hand over the catalogs, not sure which one to pick.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it so quiet in here before.” Lydia glanced around. “And I feel like there is so much to choose and surely they will be furious at me for dithering.”
“Take your time,” he said as he poured her a cup of tea. “I rented out the shop for the afternoon. We will be the only patrons here for hours.”
A smile crept on Lydia’s face. “Archer, you didn’t need to do that.”
“Saves me the hassle of shouting at people. I’m not fond of crowded spaces with other customers. Especially those who seek to make idle conversation.”
