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Toby nodded. “That’s because Rory still has his cast on. They can’t let the wrong prince get engaged. It has to be Graydon who pledges himself to her.”
“The official excuse was—”
Again Toby put her hand up, but this time Ken said nothing.
Besides refusing to read/hear/listen to anything about Lanconia, Toby made no effort to find out about Tabitha and Garrett. The last time she and Graydon had asked Dr. Huntley, Toby had spent days crying over what they were told. If their last visit hadn’t saved those two, with Graydon gone, there would be no further chances to change what had happened. And this time there would be no one to hold her when she cried.
No, Toby told herself. It was better to stick to the present and the future. The past—and that included all things Lanconian—must stay where it was.
By the time the wedding day was close, Millie and Toby had become great coworkers. They were such an efficient team that they could act without words.
Millie was the one who designed the awards to be given for the best costumes—and they’d come up with so many categories that there would be few participants who didn’t receive a Lucite plaque. Best hair, best headdress, best white gown, best shoes, et cetera. There was one for everything that she and Millie had come up with over a pitcher of margaritas. It had been a fun night.
The only bad moment had been when Toby said she wished she had some of the yellow cheese that Graydon didn’t like.
“Who is this man Graydon I keep hearing of?” Millie asked as she refilled Toby’s glass.
Toby was a bit tipsy but certainly not drunk. “A true prince of a man,” she said as she raised her glass and took a sip.
“Is he the love of your life?”
“Absolutely not!” Toby said. “After Victoria’s wedding I’m going to meet a man who will sweep me off my feet. He’s going to be intelligent and educated and will make love to me all day long. No more virginity for me!” Toby drained her glass.
“You’re a …?” Millie asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes and no,” Toby said as she put down her glass. “Tabitha had a great time but Toby got nothing. Honorable men are good on paper but in real life they’re a pain in the neck.”
“You have to tell me this story,” Millie said.
“No,” Toby answered. “Not now. Not ever. I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” She went up the stairs and fell into bed.
By the day before the wedding, both Toby and Millie were exhausted—but everything was in place. Victoria’s dress—the white one, so Lorcan had won the bet—had arrived earlier that week from Martha Pullen and it wa
s truly breathtaking. It was quite simple, low cut, high waisted, with three-quarter sleeves and a bit of a train that flowed behind the skirt. What made the dress extraordinary was the fineness of the Swiss cotton Martha and her ladies had used and their intricate white embroidery along the skirt and on the sleeves. Victoria, Millie, and Toby had gathered around it to admire the exquisite sewing, the precision and beauty of every stitch.
Millie knew some people in the costume department at the Metropolitan Opera in New York and her dress had arrived packed in tissue paper. The gown was of pale peach satin covered with fine netting that was embellished with embroidery done in silver thread. Over the years, the thread had tarnished to a soft glow that enhanced the beauty of the dress. It was such a good reproduction that it looked like it had been hand sewn.
As for Jilly and Alix and their men, Dr. Huntley knew where clothing from the era was hidden away in boxes in the attic of Kingsley House. Ken dug them out, and he and Jared never stopped complaining about what they had to wear to the wedding.
Toby hung her own dress on her closet door and the sight of it brought back so many memories she could hardly stand up. She sat down on the side of the bed and stared at it, her mind flooding with images of her and Graydon together.
“Are you all right?” Millie asked from the open doorway. “Oh, my! Is that your gown? It is truly exquisite. Are you sure it fits?”
“I know it does,” Toby said.
“Perhaps you should try it on to see.”
Toby stood up. “I know it fits!” she said, her voice almost angry. “I’ve worn the dress often, even had it removed from my body. I’ve danced in it and laughed. I got married in it!” She put her hands over her face.
“I think I should leave you alone,” Millie said softly.
“No, please,” Toby said. “Don’t go. Isn’t there some work that needs doing?”
“We could check the chapel to see if the candles have been placed correctly.”
“Good!” Toby said. “And we can light a few to make sure they don’t drip. I don’t want to have to scrape all that wax off again like I did the last time. If it hadn’t been for Graydon—”
She took a breath.
