Chapter 27

27

This cannot be me.

This cannot be me.

The thought kept flashing across Chastity’s mind as she stared at herself in a large ornate mirror standing on a raised circular platform in the fitting room of Mrs. Newman’s atelier. Soft light filtered through sheer cream curtains covering tall windows, casting a warm glow on the pale blue wallpaper adorned with delicate silver flowers. Plush velvet chairs in muted gold sat against one wall, where Patience sat at a small rosewood table with a delicate teacup in her hand. The air carried the faint scents of fabric, lavender, and tea.

From behind the closed door, Chastity could hear Mrs. Newman and her seamstresses speak to another client while they gave Chastity and Patience time to think about the dress.

This cannot be me.

The gown of finest pearl-white silk streamed down her body, with an overlay of Brussels lace, no doubt imported at great expense. The fashionable high-waisted silhouette was cinched just below the bust with a delicate sash of sky-blue silk—Patience’s idea to add “something blue.” The sleeves were short and puffed, trimmed with more of the precious lace.

Chastity should be ecstatic, should she not?

But the bodice—intricately embroidered with seed pearls and silver thread, forming a subtle pattern of intertwining roses and leaves—felt too tight. Chastity’s chest moved fast as she couldn’t get enough air. In her hair was the tiara Dorian had gifted her, set with diamonds and pearls. She loved it, and yet, her hands clad in lace gloves itched to tear it out of her hair together with the long veil of silk tulle.

Patience stood up, her large eyes full of adoration as she came to stand by the platform.

“You look stunning!” she said as she lifted the skirt embellished with sprays of hand-embroidered flowers and straightened it. “Mrs. Newman surpassed all expectations.” She chuckled as she kept straightening the folds of the long train behind. “Do you remember my wedding dress? Seams, patches, and the color was almost yellow from age. Heavens, as I walked down that aisle, I wished the floor would swallow me whole as you, the dukes, and other noblemen and women watched me. You won’t need to shrivel in embarrassment like I did. You’re the image of the perfect nobleman’s bride.”

She was. And yet, she was pale, her sky-blue eyes wide, and the point of her nose slightly red, no doubt from the tears she kept fighting.

“Dorian didn’t mind your dress,” Chastity chuckled through an aching throat. “He’d have loved you even if you wore a burlap sack.”

Patience sighed and her face became dreamy as she walked around the platform and began straightening the folds on the other side of the dress. “You’re right, I think he would. And Lord Wardbury will feel the same at your wedding in one week.”

Finally, Patience stepped aside, cocked her head, and eyed Chastity with a joyful smile. But when she saw Chastity’s face, the smile fell from her rosy lips.

“Oh, goodness, darling, what is it?”

Chastity forced out a smile. “Nothing.”

Patience’s blue eyes filled with concern, and she came to stand by Chastity’s side, taking her hand. “I was worried about this. Are you not happy you’re marrying Lord Wardbury?”

Chastity shook her head and gave yet another smile, which felt wooden on her lips. “Happy or not is irrelevant.”

Patience sighed and pulled Chastity by the hand. “Come sit with me, darling. Let me pour you some tea.”

Chastity admitted she liked the idea of sitting down since her knees felt wobbly.

They sat and Patience poured tea into Chastity’s cup. “Forgive me,” she said, “but one’s happiness is very relevant when it comes to marriage. Believe me.”

Chastity felt a needle prick through her heart. Thanks to Lucien, she knew what it was like to be happy with a man. He had awoken her body and opened heart. Only to stomp on it all over again.

Chastity removed the gloves, and her hands felt free, as if her skin could breathe again. If only she could remove her whole gown…and never put it on again. “Lord Wardbury is a logical match.”

Patience’s eyebrow quirked as she put down the teapot. “Logical? That’s an interesting way to describe your future husband.”

Chastity straightened her posture. She needed to lean into rational thought. It had never let her down. “Well, he is. He’s everything I should want in a husband.”

“Should want or do want?” Patience pressed gently.

Chastity fumbled with the beautiful tiara in her hair. “Isn’t it the same? From all logical sides, Lord Wardbury is perfect. There’s not a fault in him.”

Patience looked at Chastity from under her long eyelashes. “Unlike Lucien, you mean? Who’s very sinful and very flawed.”

Chastity finally fought the tiara out of her hair and threw it, together with the veil, on the floor with more strength than she intended. The veil had weighed nothing, and yet it felt like a boulder lifted off her shoulders.

“Precisely,” she said. “So he’s of no consequence. Logically, Lord Wardbury is the best choice.”

Patience narrowed her big blue eyes. Her golden locks sprang around her face as she cocked her head with that expression she got when she was about to look straight into Chastity’s soul. “You keep saying ‘logically’… What if you put logic aside—just for a moment? What does your body tell you? What do you feel?”

Chastity felt that she loved the dress, and the tiara and the veil, despite her wish to be free of them in the moment. But not the man.

Lucien had been a part of her body and soul for weeks now. All her life, perhaps. She looked down at her hands, which were clenched hard. She just couldn’t rely on her treacherous heart and body. They wanted Lucien.

Her mind had always been her safe haven. Logic had been her friend and companion. Why should she now take decisions without its guidance?

“May I ask if what you feel is love?” asked Patience softly. “But not for Lord Wardbury.”

Chastity sighed. “There’s no hiding anything from you.”

Patience’s brows rose in sympathy. “You love Lucien, don’t you?”

She hadn’t seen him in two weeks, but his name was like a bolt of lightning through her heart. Painful. Electrifying. Making her feel awake and alive. “I do, but he does not love me back. Not enough to take a serious step, anyway. Lucien can’t offer me what Lord Wardbury can. He can’t—or won’t—commit. So it does not matter.”

Chastity studied the patterns of flowers on her gown. Part of her wondered if Lucien’s face would spread in admiration and wonder seeing her like this. The old her would have married Lord Wardbury in her regular gray dress. This was another positive change Lucien had inspired. He transformed her into the version of herself she had always feared but now saw as strong and vibrant.

“Don’t you think marriage is one instance when your heart may know better than your mind?”

Chastity felt a flicker of frustration. “But how can I trust my heart when it’s leading me towards someone who’s hurt me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Patience smiled softly. “People can change, Chastity. You and I have seen it firsthand with Dorian. He became a better man because he wanted to, because he found something worth changing for.”

“But Lucien…he’s made his choice. He told me he won’t change for me.”

“Yet,” added Patience gently. “Sometimes you need to let yourself feel. Perhaps he does, as well.”

Her words struck a chord deep within Chastity, touching on a fear she hadn’t fully acknowledged. Feelings were chaotic, unpredictable. They couldn’t be measured or quantified. They were, in a word, terrifying.

“Those feelings can lead to heartbreak,” Chastity whispered. “They already did.”

“They can also lead to happiness. I locked up my negative emotions my entire life. But it didn’t make them disappear. It just meant I did not listen to an important part of myself. And you are doing the same now.”

Chastity sat quietly, absorbing Patience’s words. The logical part of her mind rebelled against the idea, insisting emotions were unreliable, dangerous even. But a small voice, one she’d been trying to ignore, whispered that perhaps Patience was right.

“I…I don’t know if I can do that. My mind has always been my guide. My safe place.”

Patience nodded encouragingly. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. What if you can find a balance between body, mind, and heart?”

As they sat there, the tea growing cold and forgotten, Chastity found herself caught in a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and feelings. The certainty she had clung to regarding her decision to marry Lord Wardbury was crumbling, revealing the longing and doubt she had tried so hard to ignore.

“Thank you, Patience,” Chastity said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Patience squeezed her hand once more, her touch bringing comfort. “Just remember, it’s not too late to listen to your heart. Don’t be afraid to feel, Chastity. Sometimes it’s the bravest thing we can do.”