Heirly Ever After by Vernon, Magan (best classic novels .TXT) 📕

“Um…more like a seven or eight.”

She looked down at my feet, my drying dress clinging to my legs to show the one nice pair of heels I owned and had bought on sale at Target.

“U.S. sizes, right? That’s different than U.K.”

She waved her hand then flipped her hair back, her pace picking up.

“Come, we’re going to my room,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” I moved as fast as I could without becoming a power walking old mall lady.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye as soon as I was next to her. “We’re going to my room to find you something to wear with these booties. We can’t have you in an apron for dinner. Mother and Father don’t need another reason to complain.”

All the heat drained from my face, replaced by a chill like a bucket of cold water to the face. “Your parents are coming, too?”

“Unfortunately,” she grumbled. “They weren’t going to come for a few days, but once they got wind of a MacWebley being in the building, of course Mother had her maids pack the town car to get here as fast as they could from London.” She turned to me with a wicked smile on her face. “Don’t worry, you’ll know when she’s here from all the snipping at the help or her dragon’s breath burning down one of the rooms.”

I swallowed hard.

My sister had told me horror stories about her future mother-in-law.

And about her future sister-in-law for that matter.

How they both weren’t too happy about having a non-noble lady in a relationship with Lord Gavin. His mother even went as far as to try and bribe my sister with a bunch of money to leave the manor and never come back.

Obviously, things turned out very differently when Gavin had tried to give her the manor to make her an official lady.

And now, one year later, there was a wedding.

“I’ll make sure to keep my distance,” I said with as much courage as I could muster.

I wondered what this meant for Jacob, currently still down in the kitchen. I probably needed to tell him about Gavin and Cecily’s parents coming, but how could I warn him? I didn’t have his phone number. I didn’t know the way back to the kitchens. And I didn’t really feel like facing him again after what happened.

What if the kiss had been a mistake?

Was he now feeling just as awkward as I was about seeing him?

Yeah…

Talking to him could wait.

I followed Cecily through a maze of hallways before we ended at another large wooden door, the molding carved with roses and thistles entwined all around it to form a beautiful façade.

As soon as she opened the door, light from the floor-to-ceiling windows cast a low glow over the dark wooden floors and sitting room. It was similar to the Thistle Room, but this one had all powder blue furniture facing a large white fireplace.

“Come, this way,” Cecily called over her shoulder as she marched through an open doorway.

Like my room, there was a large four-post bed that was swallowed by the massive size of the room, complete with a whole other sitting area. But while my room just had the little desk and my small suitcase laid on it, Cecily’s was more like a fashion bomb had blown up.

Racks and racks of clothes were placed in a semi-circle near another floor-to-ceiling window. A haberdashery of shoes was strewn next to them on the floor.

“Are these all your outfits for the week?” I asked, trying to catch my breath at what were possibly the most beautiful silk dresses I’d ever seen in my life. And that included the white bridesmaid dress that a designer had hand sewn for me for my sister’s ceremony.

I didn’t want to think about the price tag on that one or everything else that was in this room.

“A girl has to have options, and one of my designers just sent me these from France so I’d have my pick for the week.” She waved her hand dismissively before dropping her shoes then thumbed through the clothes rack next to her. “Let’s see, you’re what, about a meter and a half tall?”

“Um…I’m five two, so whatever that is converted.”

She rolled her eyes. “You Americans and your strange system.”

Thumbing through a few dresses, she finally smiled and pulled out a long black dress.

Maybe dress wasn’t even the right term.

This was an artistic masterpiece.

The stretched velvet material moved effortlessly into a mermaid style. The high scalloped neckline and long sleeves could have made it look like a gothic Morticia, but the slight shimmery hue to the material instead made it look more like something straight off the runway.

“What about this? Wearing the booties should bring you up to a height where you hopefully won’t step on the gown or trip over any of those blasted knights in the hallway.”

“I guess I could try it.” I tentatively stepped forward, running my hand along the plush material on the bodice.

She nodded behind me. “The loo is in that door behind you, and there should be fresh towels. Dry up and try it on with the shoes.”

She shuffled over to the open bathroom door, hanging the dress over a hook and placing the booties next to it. I stared at her for a second, unblinking, and wondering if this was all some sort of a trap to sabotage my sister’s wedding by being super nice to me then making me look like a fool in front of everyone.

“Did I stutter? Go, try it on so I can see how you look.” She waved her manicured hands as she stepped out of the bathroom.

I guessed if she was going to insist, it couldn’t hurt to try it on.

I made my way into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The room was bigger than my entire apartment in Charlotte, complete with a waterfall shower, jetted tub, and even two sets of toilets. Well, one was technically a bidet.

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