Page 51 of A Rogue to Reform

“Don’t be so sad, the nights he spends with you will be most enjoyable. It will be worth your investment.” The vile woman looked to the back room. “I suppose I will return later, I have much to do. Perhaps plan a dinner party in honor of my newly acquired freedom.”

She rushed from the room, leaving a heavy scent of whatever floral perfume she wore. Felicity held out a hand to steady herself and let out a long breath. It couldn’t possibly be true. If Evan planned such a thing, she would thwart his plans.

First thing upon returning, she would ask her father to withhold the dowry for a few months. He would agree when she explained that despite loving Evan, she wanted to be sure he had indeed truly changed and planned to support her without help from them.

She sank into a chair and realized she was clutching onto a burgundy fabric. The dark shade was beautiful, but not at all for a happy occasion like an engagement. And yet, it mirrored her state of mind perfectly.

*

“You have barely spoken since leaving the seamstress,” her mother said with a worried look. “I am sorry I was so picky. In truth, I was fighting not to burst into tears.”

“Why?” Felicity took her mother’s hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Please don’t cry, Mother.”

“It will not be the same once you marry. We will not have tea and toast every morning and discuss our day ahead.”

The carriage rambled slowly down the street and Felicity considered it would be one of the last times she and her mother would do things like this regularly. “We will continue to be as close as ever. Spend time doing things.”

Her mother smiled. “I know, darling.”

When they walked into the florist, wonderful scents assaulted, and Felicity inhaled deeply. Her mother held up a bouquet of tiny white roses. “How delightful.”

She leaned closer and sniffed. “A very light fragrance. I love it.”

A misting in her eyes made her turn away to face intricately arranged displays and she sniffed. It was such a beautiful moment that Felicity could scarcely keep her emotions under control.

*

Two weeks sped by, and before she knew it, the morning of her wedding had arrived. Of course there had been a great deal of speculation by people about the haste of the wedding. Felicity didn’t care. She was prepared to be wed to Evan and for him to find out about the lack of dowry.

Each time she’d tried to bring up the subject of what the men planned for an investment, Evan brushed it off as nothing that included him any longer. He refused to speak about it other than to say it was all resolved.

The fact he seemed not worried about his portion made what Sorcha said more believable. Several times, Felicity considered canceling the wedding. But she could not bring herself to bring even more curious speculation to her parents.

Her mother burst into Felicity’s bedroom. “It’s your special day and I wish to make every moment extraordinary.”

Ana entered with a tray. On it were three plates with sugared toast and jam. Another maid entered with a tea tray.

Along with Ana, she and her mother sat at a table near the large bedroom window that overlooked the garden.

“Mother, why did you wish for our wedding to be so soon?” Felicity asked suddenly in contemplation.

Her mother shrugged. “I have to admit that I hate prolonging things, and the fact that some wait for many months, even a year, to plan a wedding is ridiculous. It gives time for much to happen between the couple.”

At that last sentence, Felicity and Ana exchanged a look. “Is that what happened in your case, Mother?”

“This is not about me, it is your day.” Her mother avoided eye contact, but not before Felicity caught a mischievous twinkle. Apparently, her parents had barely been able to wait to be together.

After breakfast, Felicity lingered in her bath, having to be prodded to get out so that a woman hired to do her hair could begin work. The style was an upsweep with ringlets at her temples.

When the hairdresser left, Felicity remained alone in her bedchamber for a few moments. She was to wear her mother’s gown, a beautiful creation that Felicity had admired since a girl. Despite its age, the gown remained in pristine condition. It had long lace sleeves that tapered at the wrists and matching bodice that had been embroidered with pearls. With a cinched waist that would showcase her slim middle, the dress flowed out from the hips to fall in a cascade of silk and lace.

Sitting in a chair in her chemise, she studied the dress for a bit longer, admiring the intricate design of the lace, a pattern of flowers and vines.

Upon hearing voices, Felicity went to the balcony and peered down. In the garden, a group of women that were there to help sipped tea and chatted; their gay conversation floated up. It was amazing that her mother could throw a proper wedding together in a matter of days.

“It’s time to get dressed.” Her mother appeared, her overly bright eyes shiny with tears that threatened to spill.

“Don’t,” Felicity said as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I cannot show up at the church with swollen eyes.”