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Chapter Fifty-Three
Two months later, Evelina stood atop the fitting platform at the dress shop for what felt like the thousandth time. This go around, however, things were different. Mother and Diana were still with her, gushing about this and that to do with the dress itself, and the wedding that was to come.
But Evelina was actually enjoying herself.
“It really is a small miracle any of this fabric actually made it over from the Far East,” Evelina noted, resisting the urge to lift up a pleat of the skirt and run a flat palm over the fabric’s rich texture.
“Yes, it has been quite a relief,” said the seamstress, removing the pin she’d been holding in her mouth as she pinched at the hemline. “We were getting so many order requests, with nothing to back it up. An honest miracle!”
Not a miracle, Evelina thought. Just good business sense.
Thomas and Father together had been responsible for solving the issue of the blue dye shortage. Through the combined efforts of their contacts abroad, they’d managed to scout out a crop of the coveted berries in a remote valley that had been spared of the worst of the drought. As such, they had managed to split the profits of the endeavor, and had become the only shipping companies in the region who had access to the now-rare indikon.
Evelina would be proud to wear the color for her and Thomas’ wedding, at this point mere days away.
“You look positively beautiful, Evelina,” said Mother coming to stand by her side. “I’m so relieved that all of this has seemingly worked out.”
There was, admittedly, a bit of a barbed undercurrent to that last statement. Things between Evelina and Mother had been somewhat tense following the botched engagement to Jerome, as was to be expected.
“Thank you, Mother,” Evelina said. “I rather think this color does suit me better than the last, despite it being more difficult to come by.”
The seamstress bobbed her head in agreement from the floor below.
Diana, who had been observing from the settee, rose and joined them as well. “As long as Evelina is happy with the dress, I’m of the opinion little else matters.”
Mother scoffed slightly. But then, at a shared look by Evelina and Diana, softened. “You are always beautiful, Evelina. Even when we don’t agree on everything, or how to go about pursuing a common goal, you have your own way of doing things. It shall be my task to advance in my ability to respect that.”
The words sent a strong feeling of relief through Evelina’s chest. She had not really expected to find Mother’s approval after the tumultuous events of the previous engagement ball. And indeed, people about London did still talk, and not all of them had nice things to say.
But the people Evelina cared about, and who cared about her, were all in her corner. And she would be with Thomas in the end after all.
“I appreciate your guidance, Mother,” Evelina said, “and yours as well, Diana. Had it not been for the both of you, I would still be turning my nose up at the very prospect of finding a husband, or worse, marrying a man with selfish, secret motivations. I thank you for your inspiration.”
When it seemed their conversation was concluded, the seamstress took advantage of the gap in discussion and pressed her aging body up from the floor. “Now, that should be the last of it. My Lady, what do you think of this hem length?”
Evelina turned carefully to face herself in the ornate, oval mirror in the corner. She was surprised by how taken she was with her own appearance. The royal-blue fabric did suit her—it brought out the cool tones of her gray eyes, and complimented her skin tone with its contrast. It also allowed her to look older, more mature, and as such, more outwardly sure of her own choices. “I quite like this,” she said sincerely.
Diana came up alongside her and leveled her head so that she was nearly resting her chin on Evelina’s shoulder. They stared at their shared reflection together, sharing similar smiles.
Diana looks more sure of herself as well, Evelina noted, unsure when her giddy, starry-eyed little sister had taken on such smooth confidence.
While Diana had yet to confirm a match herself, plenty of suitors had been knocking at her door, and Evelina imagined that after her own wedding, it would only be a short matter of time before Diana found her happy ending as well. Fondly, Evelina reached up and stroked Diana’s hair, happy to have her here alongside her.
It seemed that despite all the chaos and give-and-take, they had been able to experience the full throes of the Season together after all.
“So are we happy with this, then?” Mother asked. “Is our purchase ready to be made?”
“Yes,” Evelina answered. “We’ve definitely made the right choice.”
Mother paid for the gown, and the three women left the dress shop together, promising to return upon the completion of the final alterations. Outside, London was bustling with the upcoming holiday season, and the sky was heavy with the promise of the first snowfall. Evelina breathed in the crisp air, excited for the days and months to come.
As they walked back toward the carriage that had brought them to Bruton Street, however, Evelina did experience a somber note of melancholy. While she was excited for the wedding—and knew on many levels Thomas was as well—that did not erase the difficult time he was going through after the tragedy of his brother’s treachery.
On their last outing—a walk through the park, with Matilda following diligently several feet behind—there had been a number of times when his eyes had taken on a glazed, distant look, as he disappeared to some dark place inside himself, wrestling through the trauma of the betrayal.
She hoped that after the wedding, the support that arose from their union would be enough to pull him from the mire of his grief, or at least help him through it.
Sometimes, Evelina worried she would not be up to the task.
