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Chapter Thirty-Six
Evelina did not enjoy hearing that today was meant to be her next engagement dress fitting.
She enjoyed it even less when they actually made it to the dress shop, only to learn that, as Evelina had expected, the royal-blue material had not come in.
“You are telling me that the seamstress has not even begun on the order?” Mother asked. Her tone was both affronted and surprised.
The shopkeeper shifted her weight and twiddled her thumbs. Evelina and Diana exchanged awkward glances behind Mother. “Well, you see, it’s as we said before, the fabric you wanted is in very short supply—”
Mother raised herself up to her full height. “What I recall us discussing before was thatdespitethe fabric being in short supply, you would still be able to handle the order.”
“Well…yes—”
As this confrontation continued, Evelina’s eyes wandered past the shopkeeper toward the back room. The top of a wispy gray bun poked out from behind the door’s threshold—the seamstress, listening in on their conversation.
A strong wave of guilt came over Evelina at the sight. This was her doing. Had she not been so convinced of Thomas’ affections that she was willing to lie about her intentions with Jerome, thereby moving forward with the business of ‘stalling’ the engagement ball, the staff of the dress shop would not be in this predicament.
“Mother,” said Evelina, reaching forward and touching her mother’s arm. “Let us discuss other options.”
Her Mother was so focused on chewing out the shopkeeper, she nearly swatted Evelina away, but covered herself at the last minute. “Evelina. No. This is the dress you wanted; this is the dress you shall have.”
“Yes, but sometimes, the things we want prove impossible.” As the words left her mouth, Evelina found she was not thinking of the dress, but of Thomas, and the awful twist of his face when she’d run from him in the garden. “We must consider the next best option.”
Mother’s brow furrowed. Diana stepped forward to add something as well, but Mother hushed her. “Give us a moment, please,” she said coldly to the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper inclined her head, then disappeared into the back room to join the seamstress.
Mother turned to Evelina and Diana. Their collective lady’s maids stepped closer to one another, forming a little clump, and moved to the side to also accommodate the Duchess’ ‘private word.’
“The both of you mean to marry well,” said her mother, speaking as though she were imparting some great life wisdom. “And with that comes a way of carrying oneself that it seems neither of you have mastered yet.”
“Have I been carrying myself poorly since our arrival here?” Diana asked genuinely. Evelina felt embarrassed, and a little sad for her sister, who was so used to second guessing herself in matters of propriety.
“No, Diana, not here, but this is something I’ve noticed about the both of you for some time,” said Mother. “When it comes to matters of class—for example, when you have instructed someone of lesser status to complete a job on your behalf, and they fail—it is your duty to yourself and those of similar social stature to hold servants and craftsmen to their words.”
Evelina was not at all sure she agreed. “Surely it is possible to do so without being cruel.”
Mother’s eyebrows shot up. “I hope you are not suggesting I am being cruel, Evelina.”
She sighed. “No, Mother. I just think that I have had a change of heart over the royal-blue gown. A different, more available color will suffice.”
Mother shook her head. “Evelina…the point that I am trying to make is not really about how to treat people who have been assigned to provide a service. I am saying that it is important to stand up for what you truly want, even when it is perhaps difficult to do so.”
Evelina frowned, sensing some sort of double meaning in her mother’s tone. Before she could ask after it, however, Mother turned back around and called to the shopkeeper to return so that they might continue sorting out the matter of the late order. Evelina continued to mull over what Mother had just said, as the older women continued debating over the best course of action given the delayed material.
Does Mother…mean to suggest I continue to fight back against the betrothal to Jerome? Surely not. Especially with the family finances being what they are…
A wave of irritation came over her. What did her parents want from her, truly? And could they not just be direct about it?
Perhaps Evelina was reading too deeply into things.
She sighed and stepped forward, steeling herself to her fate. She had already known that morning that this was the move she intended to make.
There would be no more stalling the inevitable—her relationship with Thomas had not been what she thought it was, and if her marriage to Jerome was necessary to keep her family in good stature, she would do what she must.
“Mother,” Evelina said again, more insistent, gripping her mother’s forearm a second time. “I truly have changed my mind about the dress color. I no longer want a dress of royal-blue fabric. Instead, I have a mind for a dress of similar cut in soft, baby pink.”
Mother, Diana, and the shopkeeper all seemed taken aback by the authority in Evelina’s tone. Even the seamstress fully poked her head out of the back room.
