that to your plans.
“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but he’s marrying me, and Phoebe’s marrying Johnathan,” I say brightly, enjoying absolutely nothing about this conversation.
Jilly picks up on my tone. “Emma’s an absolute treat, Susan. Really, she is. She’s been very unfairly represented in the media. Haven’t you, Emma?”
“I have,” I sniff.
“Oh, they were cruel,” Susan agrees. “Saying you were like Bozo the Clown and all those ‘butt of the joke’ memes of you falling out of the limousine. Although I’ve got to admit, some of them had me and my Paul chortling over our cornflakes.”
Jilly lets out a giggle but immediately presses her lips together to stop it when she takes in my glare. “It was very hard on poor Emma.”
“It was big news here, particularly since Lord Martinston is a bit of a local hero. You could not have expected to find a more suitable man to be Mr. Darcy, could you?”
“Oh, I absolutely agree,” Jilly gushes. “Sebby is one in a million.”
As the two discuss Sebastian and me as though I’m not standing right here in front of them both, I begin to feel beyond ridiculous in this dress. Part of me wishes I’d never even tried it on.
Jilly pulls the conversation back on track when she says, “But of course darling Emma is getting her happily ever after with her very own Mr. Darcy, and we’re all thrilled for them,” Jilly finishes.
“Aren’t you the lucky one, then, love?” Susan says.
“Now. This dress,” Jilly says, negating the need for me to respond to Susan.
“Isn’t it divine?”
“It does look gorgeous on you, but I wonder if it’s a little too…flashy for certain members of the family.”
She means Geraldine.
I regard my reflection. “It might a be a bit of deep V, but I think it’s super classy.”
“We Brits feel that one doesn’t want to show too much flesh on one’s wedding day. It’s just not the done thing. Not in our social circle, anyway. Footballers’ wives are a whole other demographic.”
“I don’t think it’s too revealing. Sure, it’s a little low cut, but it’s not like I’ve got massive cleavage or anything.” Not that I’ve ever got any cleavage on show, well, not without the help of a couple of slippery chicken fillets to stuff down my bra, that is.
“Oh, it’s revealing in what it’s not revealing, if you catch my drift,” Jilly says with a head nod that’s meant to be meaningful.
I blink at her dumbly. “I don’t catch your drift at all.”
“Let’s put it this way. We don’t want to excite the vicar now, do we? Make him all hot under the collar? That simply wouldn’t do at all.”
I chew on my lip as I regard my reflection once more. Although I do love the dress, I did ask Jilly to help me navigate the mysterious and confusing world of the English aristocracy. I know I need to go with what she suggests to fit in here. “Should I try something else? Wedding dress shopping is super fun.”
“Why don’t you let me find something for you that would be more appropriate for a Martinston audience.”
“Thanks, Jilly,” I reply, glad she’s here. Although I love this dress, the last thing I want to do is stand out like a footballer’s wife (whatever they look like), excite the vicar, or the worst of the lot, upset Geraldine.
Jilly begins to rummage through the racks as Susan helps me out of the Empire line dress.
“Can she try this one, Susan?” Jilly’s holding up another dress, this one with long sleeves and a neckline that looks like it’s just that, coming right up to the chin.
It’s no pretty deep V dress with a delicate, floaty skirt, that’s for sure.
“Of course she can,” Susan replies.
I eye the dress. “I’m not sure. It’s a lot of material.”
“Oh, it’ll look simply divine on you, Emma darling. Just you see,” Jilly says. “Very Lady of the Manor.” She leans in closer to me and says conspiratorially, “Geraldine won’t be able to help but approve.”
I trust Jilly, and she knows how things work in this social set, so I reply, “Sure. Why not?”
“That’s the spirit.”
Behind the heavy curtain, Susan helps me into the dress. Once she’s put some clips in place like she did with the first dress, she says, “Pop up onto the step again, and you can show Jilly. I’ll be right back with that bridesmaid’s dress.” She holds the curtain to the side for me to walk through.
I step up onto the little platform