Dauphine nodded. “Anyone with eyes can see it. You both flow so well together. It’s lovely to watch. When Gerard and I were courting…it was a different time, I suppose.” She offered out a small smile, and deep in my sparkling slippers, my toes curled. “There are a thousand different ways for a couple to love one another, and here in Bloem, each of them is as important and valid as the other.”
My mouth ran dry as she danced around the subject. “Do you think…Is he planning…” I faltered, the thought too giant to wield. “Do you know where Alex is taking me today?”
She shrugged, though it seemed clear she had an idea of it. “Wherever it is, don’t be gone too long. We’ll have much to celebrate tonight.”
* * *
Alex was going to propose.
Today.
I was absolutely certain of it.
I hurried down the halls of Chauntilalie, the massive volume of skirts flying behind me like a boat’s wake. Footmen jumped out of the way but my mind was too fixed on Dauphine’s words to take notice of their horrified, confused faces.
We’ll have much to celebrate, she’d said.
What else was I to assume that meant?
A proposal.
Of marriage.
To Alex.
A flutter of nerves drove me into an alcove, safely tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the party preparation. A quiet place where I could be alone with my thoughts. Alone with my terror.
“Marriage,” I gasped, hands trembling.
It shouldn’t have been a shock; any fool could see the trajectory of our paths. We’d begun our courtship. He’d declared his love. Dauphine had all but winked as I left her.
I pressed my forehead to the windowpane, letting its cool surface soothe my fevered thoughts.
“It’s Alex,” I reminded myself. “He’s a good man. He’s going to become a great man.” My breath steadied and I felt a sliver of calm wedge itself under my ribs, easing its way through the rest of me. “This is what you wanted.”
I nodded.
Alex’s wife.
I stilled, meditating on the phrase, imagining what my life would look like, forever entangled with his. I pictured his face grown old, wrinkles and silver hair claiming the planes and shapes I’d grown to know so well. I saw his hand, thicker now and spotted with age, take mine, holding it with a soft fondness as we sat on a garden bench, his nose in a book, a sketchpad across my lap. Alyssums bloomed all around us.
My heart stretched, warm and bright.
This was more than a daydream.
It felt like a vision.
A prophecy.
An omen of good luck.
We would have a happy life together.
Full of peace and certainty, I opened my eyes and immediately jumped.
Alex was on the other side of the window, watching me with intense eyes. Before I could call out a greeting, he turned and walked away.
My mouth fell open as wild confusion pounded at my chest.
I blinked, wondering if I’d somehow misunderstood what I’d seen.
Alex, walking.
Unconvinced, I raced down the hall and hurried out the nearest door to the garden.
Rounding a tall hedge, I ran straight into him and wanted to laugh.
He wasn’t Alex.
Judging by his clothes, he was a worker Dauphine had undoubtedly brought in as extra help. His dark hair and build bore a striking resemblance to Alex’s, but nothing more.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, stepping out of his way. He carried a tray of tea candles. “I thought…I thought for a moment you were someone else.”
He offered a small smile and stepped around me, leaving me alone in the corner of the garden.
Overhead, the sky had rounded into a deep blue with traces of clouds at the horizon. Alex was surely waiting for me at the lake by now. I ran my hands over the gown, making sure everything was just so before finding the proper path, going toward my future with a steadfast and ready heart.
Alex was already seated in a rowboat as I approached the dock.
It was a special boat, I noted. His feet had been slipped into covered holsters to help keep him in place as he manned the oars and a wooden back was built into the planked seat. Frederick had undoubtedly assisted him into it but was now nowhere to be seen.
Alex didn’t notice my approach at first, his gaze fixed on the water. He too was already dressed in formal wear. A set of tails dangled down from the rustic seat and his cravat was folded into the most complicated series of knots I’d ever seen.
My slippers crunched over the gravel and he turned.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move. He just stared. Quietly. Reverently.
Then, the most beautiful smile broke over his face.
“Oh, Verity. You’re even lovelier than I could have ever imagined.”
“You like it?” I asked, giving a playful twirl so he could see the whole effect.
“I love it. I…” He pressed his lips together and his eyes roved over me hungrily, as if etching the moment into his memory forever. “I am dazzled. Truly.”
Heat crept into my face, pleased he was so taken aback. “What…what are you doing down there?” I asked, nodding toward the rowboat.
“Join me,” he said, his grin widening.
I glanced at the dock. The wood was weathered gray and boasted several long, jagged splinters.
I hesitated. “I don’t think all this skirt will fit.”
“It’ll be fine. There’s a ladder right here. I’ll help you,” he said, offering out one hand. He held on to a post with the other to keep the boat from swaying.
I turned back toward Chauntilalie, praying Dauphine wasn’t watching, then gathered up the layers of tulle and silk, bunching them about my knees as if they were nothing more than gabardine, before descending the ladder.
“Thank you,” I said, and lowered myself to the second bench. I was no stranger to getting in and out of boats, but the giant, delicate gown hindered my usual movements, making me feel as ungainly as a gosling, legs too long, feet too wide. I fluffed out the skirts, keeping them far from the edges of the water. “No damage done, I think.”
For a moment, we simply stared, appreciating all the efforts we’d put in for each other. Alex had taken great care with his dark locks, pomading them into lustrous waves, and his face was freshly shaven and dewy.
“You look very handsome,” I confided shyly, my voice pitched lower and hushed.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, pleased. “And you…Words fail me.” He took my hand, pressing a kiss across the knuckles. “Even Arina herself has never looked as becoming.”
“Where are we going?”
His dimples winked. “You’ll see.”
With a strong push, he shoved us from the dock and took the oars, rowing us into deeper waters.
Little breezes skittered over the lake, bringing with them the scent of algae and water lilies. A fish jumped from a nearby wave, a quick splash of silver, before disappearing again.
“The manor looks so lovely from here,” I murmured, squinting across the lake to marvel at the picturesque views of Chauntilalie.
“I told you to bring a sketchbook,” he teased.
I glanced down at my bespoke finery. “And where exactly would I have stored it?”
“Oh…you know,” he said, releasing one of the oars to gesture toward the skirt. “That thing is absolutely enormous. There must be a pocket somewhere.”