The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1) - Page 113

Quinn

* * *

The morning of Christmas Eve I woke next to my sister in the bed in my room. We’d agreed that she would take the room when I came home later as Lady Barnes. The night before, we’d been too tired to unpack her trunk, so now I was sitting on the bed watching her move around the room in her dressing gown. She’d had a bath and washed her hair. Her damp, loose hair dried as she hung clothes in the wardrobe.

Watching her, I decided she seemed older than when I left home just a few months ago. Living alone with Mother had given her a self-assurance she hadn’t had before. It hurt a little to see how life had robbed her of any childish tendencies, but I supposed it was for the best. The world was a hard place and courage our only map.

She showed me the new dress she’d made for herself in a light green organza. “A day dress or a sister-of-the-bride dress,” she said. “Are you mad I spent the money on fabric?” she asked.

“Never,” I said. “It was time for a new dress.”

“It’s just you sent so much money and then Lord Barnes wrote and sent more, so I didn’t think you’d begrudge me or Mother a few new clothes.”

“I’m glad you had enough to make something nice for yourself,” I said.

Annabelle bounced on her feet. “I’ve brought something for you, too. When you wrote a month or so ago that Alexander had stated his intention to marry you, I started to worry about a wedding dress. I made this fo

r you.” She pulled from the trunk a high-waisted white organza gown with a tiered skirt and tight sleeves that stopped at the elbows.

I leapt from the bed and grabbed the dress. “Annabelle, how did you ever do this?”

“It’s nothing. I used a pattern. Although I tweaked it a bit to suit your small frame. Making this wedding dress was the most fun I’ve ever had.”

“I adore it.” I placed the dress on the bed and stared at it with great reverence. I couldn’t believe such a pretty dress was mine. “And I adore you.”

“There’s one more thing.” She lifted a lace veil from the trunk. “I made this from a piece of lace Mother had kept for years and years, hoping one of us could use it for a veil. Do you like it?”

I fingered the delicate lace my sister had cut and sewn onto a small cap. “Making this from an old piece of lace. You’re such the clever one.”

“Aren’t I though?”

We hugged, laughing and crying at the same time. A knock on the door followed by Merry’s voice interrupted us from our sisterly reunion.

“Quinn, I’ve come to help you get dressed.” She gasped when she saw the dress. “Where did it come from?”

“My sister made it,” I said.

Merry couldn’t keep the envy out of her voice. “It’s the prettiest dress I’ve ever seen.”

We spent the next hour getting dressed. Merry powdered me and blushed my cheeks while Annabelle twisted my hair and fixed the veil with pins. Finally, I slipped into my gown.

My sister fussed with the material, smoothing it with her fingers. Merry simply watched, shaking her head. “You’re like a princess,” she said.

Another knock on the door, and my mother entered wearing a light gray organza gown I’d never before seen. My sister’s seamstress fingers had been busy. “Oh my goodness, will you look at you. The dress is even prettier on.” She wheezed and thumped her chest.

“Mother, are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. It’s the first I’ve felt it since we left that dirty city. All this fresh air’s going to cure me.” She pointed at Annabelle, who had fixed her hair but not yet put on her dress. “They’re ready for us downstairs. We must go.”

Annabelle quickly slipped into her dress, and we all went downstairs together. Alexander and the children were waiting in the foyer, wearing their Sunday best.

Alexander met me at the bottom of the steps. “You, my love, are a beautiful bride.” Tears moistened his eyes as he held out his hands. “Are you ready to be my wife?”

“Yes, but there’s one last thing.” I motioned for the twins to come near. “I have a question for you two. My father is in heaven and typically he would walk me down the aisle. I was wondering if you would do it instead?”

“What do we do?” Flynn asked.

“Will people be looking at us?” Theo asked.

Tags: Tess Thompson Emerson Pass Historicals Historical
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