* * *
ICOULDDOlittle to calm my sisters’ reaction. After all, I had sworn to Kade that I would discuss nothing of whathad taken place, and I was glad I was true to my word. It wasn’t five minutes after my sisters arrived that my husband returned to the room, storming in purposefully as though he had forgotten about my presence—and that of my many attendants. I was also glad that I was fully immersed in the deep bath before he made his appearance. My sisters gasped at the intrusion and clutched drying cloths as though to shield me before their whispers began.
It was the first time I had ever seen Kade look mildly uncomfortable. At the far end of his chambers, he was reaching to grab a rolled scroll from a high shelf, which he briefly unrolled to read, as though searching for something specific, or making every effort to concentrate on anything but our feminine circle.
“Add some bubbles,” Ann whispered to Agnes.
“It hardly matters if he sees her,” muttered Agnes. “He’s herhusband.”
“Besides,” Maisie added, hushed, “’tis clear enough he’s already done much more thanseeher.”
“Aye, look at the state of her,” Agnes quietly agreed. “Flushed. Bloodied. Utterly traumatized.”
There were noises of sympathy before conversation turned to my wardrobe, more loudly now that the subject was no longer that of my plundering.
“What dress, then, Stella?” asked Agnes. “Not the green one. You always wear green.”
“That’s because it’s my favorite color,” I replied.
“Which dress do you favor...Kade?” Maisie asked boldly and with a trace of coy pushiness.
Kade looked at Maisie, and his indifference kicked in. He took a moment to consider his answer. “I’m sure Stella will look ravishing in any of the gowns,” he said. I thought I might have detected a note of playful sarcasm in his reply, but I couldn’t be certain. Either way, my sisters exchanged meaningful glances, as though pleased by his sentiment, before returning to the task at hand.
To us, Maisie said, “Ailie Mackenzie is so talented. I’m going to ask her to make some of these in my size. In pink, and in this light green.”
“Aye, her designs are so sophisticated,” Ann said.
“Which one, then, Stella?” persisted Agnes.
“I like the white,” I said.
“Not white, ’tis too plain. Something regal, since Wilkie’s wife is royalty after all.” This from Agnes, who, immediately after she spoke, gave an apologetic smile to Maisie.
“Isn’t it unlikely?” Maisie replied, jutting her chin upward just slightly. “Who would’ve thought that the king’s child would prove to be a lass? And aservantof all people!”
Kade’s movement stopped and he looked once again at Maisie, his eyes narrowed and uninterpretable. “She was never meant for servitude,” Kade said darkly.
Maisie blanched slightly at his remark but spoke evenly. “Aye, I’ve heard the story. I admire her, of course.”
“You would be wise to admire Roses by speaking only well of her,” Kade said, and there was warning in his tone. I got the feeling Kade did not think highly ofMaisie, whether it was from her offhand comment or some other digression—which I might have guessed at. Either way, the animosity clung to him as he returned to his task.
Maisie did not reply but she continued to watch him.
Ann attempted to change the subject. “I think you look beautiful in yellow, Stella. It sets off your eyes.”
“I like the pink,” said Agnes.
I tried again. “I like the cut of the white one. ’Tis simple yet elegant.” I was so used to having my choices overruled that my voice sounded resigned even to myself; this decision, as every other, would be made for me.
“You should wear something more colorful,” said Agnes. “How about the blue?”
“Not blue,” Maisie replied. “I don’t like Stella in blue. It makes her eyes look positively wild.”
“The pink, then,” Agnes continued.
Kade, who was listening with more intent to the conversation than I might have expected, walked over to where we were gathered. He outsized my sisters by so much, he reminded me of a great bear who might have wandered into our party. My sisters fell entirely silent.
“Stella,” he said evenly and with unmistakable authority, “will wear the white dress. And in the future, you will listen to what she says as soon as she says it.”
