Honor and Desire (Gold Sky #3) - Rebel Carter Page 0,9
glanced at her sister, Rose, who was staring at her with clasped hands, looking as if she were willing the very words Seylah was about to speak into her sister’s mouth. Seylah’s lips turned up in a rueful smile at the look of focus on Rose’s face. She would not let her down with the wrong answer, she would look presentable for the spring dance announcement, and she would give Rosemary free reign over her attire for the night.
“I will,” Seylah told Mrs. Rosemary, and stood up taller where she stood. “Shall we?” She asked giving Rosemary a bright smile. What harm could come of it? It was only one dress fitting, and Mrs. Rosemary was a trusted family friend. If anyone would be able to do this competently and painlessly, it would be Mrs. Rosemary, of that she was sure.
Chapter 2
The fitting was, in fact, not painless.
If Seylah were to describe it, she would use the words laudanum inducing and purgatory to describe her time under Rosemary’s pins and tape. She would never utter either of these in front of Mrs. Rosemary. No, never that. But, it didn’t negate the fact that Seylah’s fitting went on for a grueling five hours, and left her with battle scars in the form of three needle pricks, all of which were inflicted when Seylah tried her hand at escape.
“You’re being positively dramatic, nearly as much as your daddy,” Rosemary muttered around a mouthful of pins. “If there was ever any doubt you were William Barnes’ daughter, let it be laid to rest now.”
“It’s just so much, Mrs. Rosemary,” Seylah protested and glanced at her sister, praying for help, but Rose was much too absorbed in her perusing of the fine silks just arriving from Paris.
“I thought this was only for the one dance?” She tried, hoping Mrs. Rosemary would relent in what Seylah swore must be the fifth outfit, a day dress of purple muslin and ivory lace. Seylah fidgeted and pointed at the ledger that held her measurements. “Mama only wanted the one dress and—“
“One dress is not enough! I haven’t been able to fit you for a single outfit in years. I’m quite tired of seeing you in drab riding dresses. They do not flatter you as they should, Seylah.”
“Oh Mrs. Rosemary, that’s not important.”
“It is if you hope to catch a young man’s eye. You’re of the marrying age.”
Seylah winced at the woman’s words. “There’s no one I wish to marry,” she said a little too quickly for Rosemary’s liking.
“Oh pish,” she said waving a hand, “there are plenty of attractive and eligible men of a suitable age in the vicinity as of late, and I have hopes that one of them will be just the thing to catch your pretty eye.”
Seylah colored at Rosemary’s words. Pretty wasn’t a word that she used to think of herself, nor was it one that she particularly thought others used to describe her. Not since … that night. Her brow furrowed as that fateful night a decade ago flitted through her memory.
Prettiest girl in town.
She shook her head. No, that was not her. Had never been, and never would be. “Then I’ll be a tad clearer, Mrs. Rosemary. There are no men of marrying age that would be particularly interested in me.”
Rosemary’s blue eyes widened and even Rose was roused from her fabrics at Seylah’s words.
“No, no.” Rosemary shook her head. “Now that is just not true, my dear.”
“It is, Mrs. Rosemary. I am not the kind of woman that men notice upon first blush. It is … a delicate thing, but I am at peace with my role as it is.”
“Seylah...” Rose sighed, standing from where she had been sitting.
“As it is? What do you mean?” Rosemary put down her measuring tape and spit out her pins. “Dear, you are as lovely as your mother, even more so because you are you. There is only one you, and that is the gift of beauty. Everyone has their own unique kind.”
Seylah nodded, giving the other woman a tight smile. “Yes, you are quite right. There is only one me.”
“Even if there were a hundred, you would still be beautiful,” Rose broke in with a wave of her arms, “because you’re beautiful.” When Rosemary opened her mouth to speak, Rose shook her head. “She needs to hear that she is a beauty for the superficial sake of beauty, no niceties about uniqueness or spirit, Mrs. Rosemary.”