“I only speak the truth,” the maid said as she put a tray of tea and toast over Lydia’s lap. “Enjoy your tea while I see about the hot water for your bath.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I’m so glad you’ll be coming with me to Hutchinson House.”
“I am too,” Ellie said, exiting the room.
Within the hour, Lydia was soaking in steaming hot water and could feel her muscles finally relax.
Ellie helped her wash and handed her a drying cloth when she stepped out of the tub. “Why don’t you sit by the fire to let your hair dry faster?”
Lydia nodded, slipped on a dressing gown, and sat by the fire.
Ellie soon joined her and began brushing her hair. “Do you want a combination of braids and curls today?”
“Yes. That would be lovely.”
So Ellie set about designing an intricate hairstyle for her wedding day. When she finally finished, Lydia could hardly contain her excitement. “Ellie, you’re a wonder. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure. Now, shall we put that beautiful dress on?”
Lydia nodded, and Ellie helped her into the gown. It was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, and she felt like a princess in the lavender silk. Mrs. Dumont had outdone herself with the design, and Lydia planned on commissioning further dresses from the talented modiste when the need arose. She had plenty of dresses, both day and night, for the near future. She was not someone who needed an overabundance of dresses and never had been.
Ellie was fastening Lydia’s mother’s pearls around her neck when there was a knock on the door.
Could her father have come to wish her well? She’d hardly seen him since her engagement was announced, not that she’d seen him that regularly before then, and she wondered if he’d even miss her when she was gone.
“Come.”
The door opened, and Aunt Agnes walked in. “Oh my darling girl, you look so beautiful,” she said.
“Thank you, Aunt.”
“What’s that frown about? This is a happy day,” Agnes said.
“I know. I’m well, but I thought you might have been Papa coming to say goodbye to me.”
Agnes shook her head. “No. I’m afraid your father left the house earlier this morning.”
“I see.”
“Don’t be sad. It’s probably for the best. I doubt he would have had anything nice to say, and I would hate to see you upset on your wedding day.”
Lydia slipped on the pearl earbobs. “You’re probably right. I don’t know why I thought things would be any different today, especially given the way he’s been ignoring me since the betrothal was announced unless he needs my attention on the ledgers. Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
“Forgive you? Whatever for? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“For killing my mother,” Lydia said, a tear trailing down her cheek.
Agnes brushed the tear away and hugged her. “Lydia, listen to me. You’re not responsible for your mother’s death. That was a cruel thing for your father to blame you for, and you must put that notion out of your head.”
Lydia nodded. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll certainly try.”
Ellie attached the veil to her elaborate hairstyle and handed Lydia her gloves. “Here you go, miss. You look beautiful.
Lydia took a last look in the mirror and slipped on her gloves. “Thank you, Ellie. I’ll see you later at Hutchinson House.”
“Yes, and don’t you worry—I’ll have your things all organized for you when you return from the wedding celebration.”
“I have no doubt. Bye,” Lydia said as she walked out of her bedchamber with her aunt. She heard Prescott opening the door as they descended the stairs.
