His eyes were feverish as he nodded, moving towards her, his hands outstretched as though he was going to grab her hands in his. “It is why I had to see you, I needed you to know what you have achieved, and what it means to me.”
What you mean to me.He did not say the words, and Harriet did not know if he meant to. But they hung in the air between them all the same.
His gaze lingered on her face, his lips slightly parted as though he was going to say more. Harriet’s heart was beating so loudly, she could not hear anything over the sound of it.
They were standing so close that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest brushing against her. A tremble went through her. Her eyes went to his lips, his face, drinking in every part of him. The moment stretched like a thread drawn taught.
He moved, the motion bringing more of him into contact with her. Her skin felt like it was on fire. And then he stepped away, shaking himself and drawing in a deep breath.
Harriet steadied herself against the arm of the chaise longue, her head spinning. The air around her seemed impossibly thin.
“We have a long journey tomorrow.” Theodore clasped his hands behind his back and bowed to her. “Good night, Duchess.”
“Good night.” Her voice was breathless.
He hesitated, or perhaps she thought he did, she could not be sure. Her mind was still reeling as the sound of the door shutting echoed through her antechamber.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto the chaise, one hand on her chest and an ache she could not explain spreading through her body, mingling with disappointment.
Sleep did not come easily, and as she curled beneath her bedcovers, she felt the stirrings of a hope she could not quite quash.
* * *
“Are you coming?” Harriet asked a few days later as she and Theodore hovered on the step of the modiste.
They had arrived in London the day before. Over breakfast, Harriet had mentioned that she was a little nervous about picking up her dress as Fiona, Louisa and Catherine could not join her and she was used to having their opinions on such things.
To her surprise, Theodore had offered to accompany her and she had accepted without thinking, but now that they stood at the dressmakers, her nerves had started to take hold.
Theodore hesitated, looked at her and then nodded. “If you would still like me to, I will. Though I appreciate I may not know as much about fashion as your friends.”
For a moment, Harriet considered asking him to leave.What if he thinks I look foolish?The ballgown was nothing like the sort of thing she had ever worn before and it was Fiona who had convinced her to be so daring.
What if he hates it?She looked into his face. Over the last few days, his face had lost some of its hardness. He was still just asserious, but there was a warmth beneath it, an openness that tugged at her spirit. As she hesitated, she saw some of it fade.
“Please come.” She realized she was reaching towards his hand and hastily curled her fingers back, gesturing towards the modiste. “I would like your opinion.”
“Very well.” Theodore followed her into the shop.
“Ah! Duke and Duchess Irondale.” The modiste swept into a deep curtsey as soon as they entered the shop. “How wonderful to see you both! My girls are waiting in the fitting room for you to try on the gown. Would you care for tea while you wait, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Theodore nodded stiffly.
“If you will follow me, Duke. Annabelle, escort the Duchess to the fitting room.” The modiste snapped her fingers at one of her assistants. “The waiting area is this way, I have arranged a little privacy for you both. Just a courtesy of course, someone of your station deserves the best. I am afraid I only have Darjeeling – I hope that is acceptable?”
As Harriet was led away, she caught Theodore’s eye and had to suppress a small smile at the look on his face. It was too subtle for anyone else to notice, but she knew what it meant. There was a tightness in his jaw and his brows were ever so slightly raised.
“Just nod and agree,” she mouthed to his silent cry for help, disappearing as the attendants whisked her into the changing room.
They chattered as they helped her out of her clothes and into the gown. It was made of a deep, forest green velvet with delicate silver lace trim. The fabric felt like a warm embrace, and as she turned to look into the mirror, Harriet let out a gasp.
She scarcely recognized the woman staring back at her. The dress fit her near perfectly, it would need a minor alteration at the hem, but it clung to her in ways that highlighted the fullness of her figure.
As she turned, the fabric caught the light, making her look almost ethereal. The swooping neckline showed off her collarbone, the sleeves were short, exposing the skin of her arms until the attendants handed her the matching silk gloves.
“Shall we see what your husband thinks?” The attendants were practically vibrating with excitement.
Harriet nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she let them lead her through the curtain into the larger waiting area. As she entered the room, she caught sight of Theodore facing away from her.
