Page 37 of His Forsaken Bride

Fen crossed the room and held out her arms as the maid slipped the brocade dress over her head and then yanked it firmly over her shoulders and chest where it was already a tight fit despite not yet being laced to close.

“I don’t think this will fit,” said Fen doubtfully as Jenny pulled and pushed at her shift out of sight and then manipulated the stiff fabric to slide down her body.

“Nonsense,” huffed Jenny. “We just need to- if you’ll pardon me, my lady,” she shoved Fen’s breast’s upwards where they strained against the low neckline. “There!” she said triumphantly. “Now, let me fasten the side-lacings whilst we can. If you’ll just support your bosoms while I move around to the side, milady.”

“Er… like this?” Fen said making a shelf out of her arm. She looked down at the two scoops of her milky white flesh and blanched. “I don’t think-” Jenny cut off her words with a tight pull of the side laces. “That’s a little tight!” she exclaimed in alarm.

Jenny patted her reassuringly. “I knows what I’m about, milady,” she said. “Never fear!” She stepped to the other side and started on the fastenings there too.

“Don’t forget I have to be able to sit down in comfort and even eat a morsel or two,” said Fen uneasily.

Jenny yanked on the lacings. “None of them fine ladies are ever sitting comfortably,” she said wisely. “You just has to relax your face like you are. Then the men believe it, fools that they are.” She nodded then straightened up and spanned her hands around Fen’s admittedly, much smaller waist. “You see?”

“Ye-s,” admitted Fenella. She kept catching sight of her elevated bosom. It was distracting. She could only hope that the over-dress would somehow make her look more decent. She bit her lip.

As if reading her thoughts, Jenny crossed to the bed to pick up the brown velvet. She returned and slipped it over Fen’s head and tugged it down over the cream and gold gown. Then she moved to the back and started lacing that too. Glancing down, any hope that Fenella had for concealment was dashed. The over-gown was tight fitted to the waist. Its jewel-encrusted neckline was even lower than that of the scanty under-gown. It seemed to start from her armpits and its placement was just about level to her nipples. A strip of the cream and gold brocade could be seen just above it, skimming the top of her swelling breasts. The most substantial part of the ensemble were the voluminous sleeves which were fitted to the elbow and then extended down almost to the floor so the sleeves of the shimmering under-gown could be seen. Jenny stood back and surveyed her a moment, before kneeling at her feet and taking more pins from her mouth to start artfully arranging and pinning the over-dress so that it revealed the brocade gown underneath. Fen had to admit that the maid knew what she was doing. She had no idea that glass-beaded pins could be put to such use. It hardly seemed respectable! She wondered fleetingly, if Lady Sumner could be some kind of courtesan, but then reminded herself she was a respectably married lady. Jenny took her time over the arrangements of her skirts. She straightened up several times to survey the results of her labors, even crossing the room to check on Fenella’s appearance from a greater distance. Finally, with a nod, she seemed to be happy with the results. She gestured toward the looking glass. “Very nice,” she pronounced. “Take a look for yourself.”

Fen crossed the room and barely recognized the sophisticated and alluring woman before her in the mirror. She gulped. “But what about-?” she glanced down at her straining bosom. “I can’t be expected to go out in public like this, surely?”

Jenny looked back at her in shock. “Of course not milady. Your chests are quite naked.”

Fenella’s shoulders slumped in relief. “So, what do we use to cover them?”

“Your jewels, of course,” said Jenny simply.

Fen blinked. “My jewels,” she repeated dazedly.

“You do have some, I take it? You being a countess by rights,” retorted Jenny with a frown.

Fen tottered toward the chest of drawers and withdrew her long diamond girdle belt and the ruby and emerald gold necklace. She turned back to Jenny who gasped with delight.

“I should say you do,” she said admiringly as she took the belt in her hands and wrapped it about Fenella’s waist, fastening it so the front hung down. “I’ve never seen one so fine,” she marveled.

“It was a wedding present from - my – from Lord Vawdrey,” said Fen. She blushed faintly. It seemed so wrong to refer to Oswald Vawdrey by any term of familiarity.

“Well, he must hold you in a very high regard, and no mistake,” the maid replied. She turned back for the necklace and then fastened that about Fen’s neck. Fenella flinched at the contact of her soft skin with the cold metal and jewels. Jenny twitched the central emerald so that it was placed directly in the center of her décolletage. The dangling tear-drop pearl hung down in the valley between her breasts. If anything, the jewelry seemed to accentuate her near-naked top half.

“Perfect,” said Jenny who clearly had no such reservations. “Now, what are we doing with my lady’s hair?” she asked.

Jenny re-dressed Fenella’s hair and arranged it so her thick dark braids looped around her velvet hair band before being caught up at the back in her new gold hair-net. The result looked vastly sophisticated to Fenella who had blinked at her reflection feeling quite dazzled. She had never looked so well, she thought dazedly. Not even in her first flush of youth, nor on her wedding day. She turned her head again to look at the elaborate arrangement of glossy brown hair.

“Very nice,” pronounced Jenny again and plunked her hands on her hips. She gave a crack of laughter. “She’ll regret sending you that outfit,” she said ushering Fen out of the bedroom. “You see if she don’t!”

Lord Vawdrey was rising from his chair, no doubt to go and change his own clothes. On spotting her, he paused and straightened up. His eyes narrowed and he stood very still, just looking at her. Fen stood hopefully and clasped her hands. Would he think she finally looked like a sophisticated countess? She felt breathless, waiting for his verdict. Although, to be fair, that could just have been the tight lacing. Roland gave a low whistle and she turned her head, not having realized her brother-in-law was now sat at the table. “Not wholly contemptible,” he said with a shrug and they all turned to look at him with annoyance.

Jenny giggled. “I’ll see myself out,” she said skipping toward the door.

“Thank you Jenny,” Fen called after her. When she turned back, the bedroom door was slamming shut behind Lord Vawdrey. Fen felt her shoulders droop in disappointment. Perhaps her transformation was not worthy of comment after all.

“If you’re hoping to set Oswald ablaze with ardor, you’re wasting your efforts,” said Roland dryly. Fen felt herself blush at his indelicacy. He gave a smirk. “I see you don’t deny it.”

“Why should I?” Fen asked coolly. She could see Roland Vawdrey was baiting her. After all, she had not been raised with a brother of her own for nothing. She crossed the room to the window seat and carefully sat herself down. A quick glance down reassured her that nothing had slipped out of its confines.

Roland had lent back in his chair. “He’s got ice-water in his veins instead of red blood,” he elaborated. “Women just aren’t his passion.”

“I see,” said Fen politely. “That doubtless, is his work.”

“You know nothing about him,” he carried on contemptuously. “You’re still that little girl trailing after him, pretending to wear his ring.”