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That would surely be enough for her.
It would have to be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEMOMENTWINIFREDwalked into her new rooms in the Queen’s apartments and saw the garment bag lying on the bed, she somehow knew Augustine was involved.
There was a white envelope sitting on the bag, and when she picked it up and opened it, taking out the small white card inside, she saw someone had written on it in elegant, cursive hand:
Meet me in the apple orchard at seven p.m. Wear the dress.
It wasn’t his handwriting, of course. She didn’t know what his handwriting was like since she’d never seen it, and now he couldn’t write anyway, but it was from him, nevertheless.
Last night he hadn’t come to bed until after she was asleep, and when she’d woken up that morning, he wasn’t there. He’d been absent all day.
She’d gone through his correspondence the way she normally did, annoyed when she couldn’t find him to ask him a few things.
But maybe after their confrontation of the day before that was a good thing. Perhaps they both needed some distance.
You shouldn’t have told him you loved him.
Her heart tightened in her chest, pain arrowing through her. He hadn’t taken it well, but she should have foreseen that. She’d only wanted him to know that she didn’t see him as broken the way he seemed to think he was, or that he was a lesser man now than he’d once been.
But perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to do. He’d been furious about it, and maybe he had a right to be. They’d never talked about love, after all, and she was the one who’d brought it into the conversation. Plus, he seemed to think her declaration a demand, which wasn’t at all the case. She knew he didn’t love her, and she didn’t expect him to.
But don’t you want him to?
The thought was uncomfortable. Love was something she’d never thought about after she’d left the States, not when she’d been too busy surviving. Then there had been the years in Europe, moving from place to place and trying to make ends meet. She hadn’t thought about love then either.
Her mother hadn’t loved her, though she knew her sisters did.
Regardless, it wasn’t something she thought she needed, and after all, she’d survived well enough without it so far. Even meeting Augustine and falling in love with him, hadn’t changed her mind.
Love was something she gave. She didn’t expect anything back.
Sometimes she’d look at couples and wonder what it would be like to be loved by someone. To be important to someone. Then again, she’d been important to her sisters and so they’d always looked to her to protect them.
Love could be demanding. Love could ask you to do terrible things.
She didn’t want that, and she especially didn’t want it from someone who didn’t want to give it to her anyway. She didn’t want to be a burden to him, not when he was carrying so many already.
Pushing aside the thoughts, Winifred put down the card and picked up the garment bag, opening the zip.
Inside was the most beautiful ombré gown. It was the same dusty pale pink silk as her dressing gown at the neck and bodice, then gradually deepening into lilac at the hem. There were also sequins scattered everywhere like a constellation in the sky.
Her heart squeezed even tighter. Whatever he’d planned tonight, it was something wonderful, she could only assume since the gown was so beautiful.
Are you sure you want to go through with his whole charade?
Winifred let out a breath. Of course she had to go through with it. She said she’d marry him and she would. Because fundamentally, no matter what she thought about love, this wasn’t for her sake but her child’s. She’d grown up without a father and while she wasn’t sure what kind of mother she was going to be since she had nothing but a bad example herself, she did know that their child would need Augustine. He’d had a father he’d loved, and whether he knew it or not, he was going to make a great father himself.
She couldn’t do her child out of that, even despite the throne.
Winifred took her time getting ready that evening. She showered and dried her hair, letting it hang loose over her shoulders in glossy waves because she knew Augustine liked it that way. Then she put on the beautiful dress.
It fitted perfectly, even over her little bump, the pale dusty pink darkening into a swirl of deep lilac around her knees to her ankles.
When she was finally ready, a staff member came for her, leading her through the castle and out into the walled orchard.
