Page 45

She traced a fingertip over the delicate embroidery. She had unpicked the stitches and redone them several times. Absolute perfection had been required, and she had worked the Halmesbury coat of arms until her fingers ached with exhaustion.

It was all for naught.

She sighed heavily.

Was it a sign?

While she had labored over the gown, she had swung between certainty and doubt. Should she seek William out? The duchess’s failure to return suggested that Caroline had not earned her forgiveness in any genuine sense. She could only be grateful that the noblewoman had come at all.

“Mrs. Brown, would you like me to make you some tea?”

Annie’s expression betrayed her concern. The girl had hovered nearby for some time, clearly worried by her employer’s somber mood. Though Caroline had attempted to maintain a cheerful countenance, her disappointment must have shown.

“That would be lovely, Annie.”

Caroline smoothed the gown and folded it gently into layers of silver paper, wondering what to do with it. Her own desire to wear it had long since vanished. In her heart, it already belonged to Her Grace. Perhaps she ought to have it delivered to Avonmead and close this chapter of her life.

Packing it carefully into a box, she carried it to the back and placed it on the highest shelf. Then she joined Annie near the fireplace for tea.

Just as she picked up the cup and saucer, the front door opened and closed.

She rose at once, heart in her throat.

It was the duchess.

Caroline’s spirits ascended so sharply she felt dizzy.

“Mrs. Brown! I do apologize for the delay. We had trouble with one of the carriage wheels, and the duke wished to ensure it was repaired before nightfall. It appears the effort was successful, but we shall have to fly home come first light to make it to Avonmead for our Old Year’s Day celebrations.”

The ducal carriage was visible through the front window. The duke and coachman stood behind it, inspecting one of the large rear wheels.

“I feared you had changed your mind, Your Grace.”

The duchess shook her head. “Never! My word is my bond.”

“I am so glad you are here.”

“As am I. Is the dress complete?”

Caroline’s chest tightened with nervous anticipation. She had taken such care with the embroidery. Every stitch had been deliberate. “I shall collect it from the back.”

She retrieved the box from the shelf, butterflies taking flight in her stomach. So many hours had gone into the gown. Every spare minute over the past months—and the final burst of effort overnight.

It is my best work. It will have to do.

She brought the box to the front and set it on the counter. Her Grace joined her, and Caroline opened the lid, peeling back the silver paper to reveal the gown.

The duchess gasped, both hands rising to her cheeks. “Oh! It is beautiful. You are an artist, Caroline!”

Caroline exhaled harshly, not realizing she had held her breath. “Truly?”

“It is breathtaking. Heraldic. May I try it on?”

“Of course.”

She led the duchess into the back room.

Annie stood at the hearth, her mouth ajar and eyes wide as the noblewoman entered. She collected herself swiftly, dropping into a curtsy. “Milady.”