The young woman stopped and looked about . . . for Myrtle’s lady’s maid.

But there was no lady’s maid. Because Myrtle had arrived home from finishing school just before her family had been to depart, and it was a detail they’d failed to oversee.

At one time—a time not so very long ago—she’d been filled with bitterness and resentment.

On this day, with her boisterous family joined with Val’s in the conservatory, awaiting their nuptials, she at last realized . . . the dreams she’d carried as a girl were only just that—dreams belonging to a small child. This day, this moment coming with Val, was so much more splendorous than any imaginings she’d once carried.

“I will see to that,” Myrtle’s mother murmured, and stepped forward.

She accepted the headpiece from the young girl, who dipped a curtsy and then saw herself out.

All around, the clamor of her sisters’ and cousins’ laughter swelled around the room.

Standing at the vanity, Myrtle remained still as her mother brought the headpiece up and arranged it just so upon her head, fixing it with pins, and then stepped back a pace and assessed Myrtle.

The white, high-waisted, high-necked dress may as well have been any dress she’d worn any number of other winter mornings in her life.

Myrtle’s always riotous hair had been drawn into a semblance of an elaborate coif, with diamond snowflake combs gifted to her by Val’s mother. Her mother had once lamented Myrtle’s untamable curls. And even on this, her wedding day, her curls had not been tamed. They had, however, been arranged into an enormous coronet of tresses that were perfect because they were hers.

The white, long-sleeved satin day dress with a lace overlay was no finer than any garment she’d worn for any holiday before.

And yet it was perfect, for it wasn’t about the gown or the trappings or the imaginings. She knew that now. Rather, the dress was perfection because of what it symbolized. Because of what this day symbolized—the union of her and Val’s love, and the start of their future together as husband and wife.

Her heart sped up.

Her mother gave a loud clap of her hands.

That had no effect on the boisterous swell of the ladies present.

Her mother clapped a second time, this time harder and louder, and added her voice to the din. “Ladies!”

All the young women instantly fell silent and looked over.

“If you will await us belowstairs. Cassia, inform His Grace and your father that Myrtle and I will be along shortly.”

Her sisters and cousins instantly resumed their happy discourse and bantering as they filed one by one from the room.