She liked some, and he liked others, but they both made it clear that they needed to reach a consensus. Hom dutifully moved dresses out of the chest and onto the suite and then back again.
“How can there be no suitable dresses? I feel as though we have been through all the clothes in England,” Victor muttered. His patience had run thin, and Lydia wondered at which point he regretted agreeing to judge her gown.
“A little patience is all that’s required. A dress can be a delicate thing to choose. It will become a trusted companion, going about with you all evening. It’s not a decision that can be made lightly, just like finding a husband. You wouldn’t want to rush into that, would you?” Melody tittered with laughter.
Lydia and Victor shared an uneasy glance.
“Now, there must be one last dress in there,” Melody continued. “I know that this process can be trying, but it always helps torefine the ideas and with each dress that’s discarded we have a better idea of what we’re looking for.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lydia said. In truth, she was beginning to lose faith. It didn’t feel as though she had a better idea of what she wanted at all. In fact, she had seen so many different dresses in distinct colors and styles that she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to wear a dress at all.
Then, Hom picked out one final garment. It didn’t look like much in his hands. The color was a little drab, and there wasn’t a flow to the gown. Melody’s smile was strained as she handed it to Lydia.
“If this one doesn’t work, then tomorrow you shall come to my shop, and we will go through every dress that I own. If there are still none that are suitable, then Hom and I shall stay up through the night, and I will work my fingers to the bone to create a gown in time. Melody Chambers will not let you down! That is a guarantee,” she said.
Lydia’s heart sank. The last thing she wanted was to spend the entire day trying on dresses.
This was all Victor’s fault, she thought.
If he wasn’t so adamant about her wearing a new gown, then she could have worn one that she already owned, and there would not have been these problems.
The maid fastened the dress. It had lace woven into it that could be pulled to tighten the dress around Lydia’s figure. It was light blue in color, with darker blue lace woven around it, creating swirling patterns. It left her neck exposed, and the neckline was a little lower than she liked. The beginnings of her collarbones were visible, and she was left with the feeling that it might slip off her shoulders if she wasn’t careful.
However, it was not tight or heavy, nor did it make her skin itch. She emerged from behind the screen. Victor was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped between his legs. He lifted his head which had been bowed in frustration. The look in his eyes suggested that he did not expect much from this final dress and in fact the whole thing seemed like a futile endeavor, but that look quickly disappeared.
Instead, he looked enthralled and enchanted. His mouth dropped agape, and Lydia felt the weight of his stare upon her. It was almost as though he was seeing a woman for the first time. His eyes were unblinking and his hands fell apart from each other. He rose from the chair. Lydia turned her head away coyly, feeling a flush of heat upon her cheeks. Nobody had ever looked at her with such warm desire before.
The best she had ever received was a leer.
“Sometimes the dress makes the lady, but in this case, the lady most definitely makes the dress. Your Grace, don’t you agree? She looks exquisite,” Melody said.
Victor might as well have been in a daze. He took a moment longer to respond than he usually would have.
“Yes… quite exquisite,” he said. The words burned in the air. There was an edge to them that felt as though it cut across Lydia’s flesh like a razor. Breath caught in her throat, and she looked down at her dress, knowing now that this was the one.
However, while Lydia appreciated this attention and found that it stirred something surprising within her, she did not wish to give him any satisfaction with knowing that she welcomed his attention. His lack of acknowledgement of the moment they shared beside the fire stung her, and she would not meet this slight with forgiveness.
She raised her neck and took a deep breath which made the entire dress shift along the soft shape of her body. Victor’s eyes went wide, and then his hand rose to his mouth.
“I think indeed we have found a dress that will be suitable. I want to make clear that I do not wear this to seek your approval, Victor,” Lydia said firmly.
“I think you have it anyway. If you weren’t married, I’m sure that every eligible man in London would seek your hand,” Melody chuckled. Lydia ducked behind the screen again, thinking about Victor’s heavy gaze. She exhaled deeply and wondered if it meant anything.
Perhaps she should have abandoned this way of thinking because it could not lead to anything anyway. Did she even wanthim to be attracted to her? Only if she could use it to torment him… but even then, she was not a mean-spirited individual, and revenge was not in her nature.
It was probably best that their relationship was nothing more than cordial, but even as she resigned herself to this, she found herself wondering how she was ever going to be able to forget the way he looked at her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The journey to London had not been arduous. The weather had been mild, and they had not come across any hazards. The horses were dependable, and they had been able to take respite at various locations, which helped to make the journey less irritating for John. While he was calm for most of the time as the trundling rhythm of the carriage comforted him, there were moments when he became restless, and he appreciated the outside air.
John had ridden in the carriage with Lydia, Georgia, and Victor. Victor hadn’t said much during the carriage ride while Georgia had been happy to babble away.
Now, they were at Victor’s townhouse in London, back where all this had begun. Lydia stood in the doorway of the room in which she had found John.
“You seem pensive,” Victor said. She gasped, having been so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed his approach. He held out anarm expectantly, gesturing into the room. It took her a while to realize that he wanted to get past. She moved aside.
His back pressed against her chest, and an overwhelming wave swept through her. The air became alive with his scent, and she had an urge to stretch out a hand and stroke his back. Her fingers grasped nothing but air, and she felt foolish for trying to touch him in this way.
