Veil of Honor by Cooper-Posey Tracy

Author:Cooper-Posey, Tracy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian Historical Romance
Publisher: Stories Rule
Published: 2018-05-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Brooks took a firmer grip on the drawstrings, while Bridget braced herself against the end of the bed, the iron digging into her palms.

Brooks hauled on the strings and the corset cinched in a little tighter.

Bridget let out her breath, feeling the snugness of the corset around her waist and most especially in the bust.

Brooks smiled grimly, her plain brown eyes sympathetic. “I’m afraid that’s the best I can do, my Lady. Perhaps in a few weeks’ time, with some walking and work, you might come back to close to your old waist size, although I suspect you’ll never have an eighteen-inch waist again.”

Bridget looked down at the lines of the corset and sighed. “I suppose twenty inches will have to do. Can you let out the green satin before dinner?”

“I can, my Lady, but they will be temporary stitches. You’ll have to have your things taken out properly by a seamstress.”

“I’m sure Mrs. MacDonald knows a local lady we can trust,” Bridget told her. “This is all my fault. I wore a wrapper for two weeks and didn’t bother to check. Now we have guests and I have nothing to wear.”

Brooks picked up the green satin. “I’ll see to it you can appear at the dinner table, my Lady.”

“Thank you.”

Brooks handed Bridget her lace wrapper as she left.

Bridget sighed and tied the wrapper around her now-larger waist and settled on the stool in front of her dressing table to brush her hair out. She would have to take care of her own hair this evening. Brooks would be stitching right up to dinner time.

She would write to Madame Therion tomorrow and arrange for new dresses. The local seamstress could adjust her old ones.

When the bedroom door opened once more, Bridget looked up, startled. Brooks could not possibly have finished yet.

It was Will.

He shut the door slowly, his head down.

Bridget turned on the stool, her heart thudding even though she could not guess why it should. “Will?”

He didn’t move away from the door. His hand fell from the knob and hung by his side. It was as if he could not move any farther into the room, for the weight of the mystery that made his head bow.

“Will, what is it? Has something happened?”

He pushed his hand against his forehead, as if it ached. “I’m not even sure why I came here.”

“Will…” He was frightening her, now.

He let his hand drop. With wandering steps, he moved toward the bed. Before he reached it, he turned and moved back toward the door.

Bridget put the hair brush back on the dresser and got to her feet. “Did your father say something that upset you, Will?” It was the only explanation. Will looked stricken.

“Father gave me control of the estates, years ago…” Will said, his voice strained.

Bridget shrugged. “Fathers do that frequently. Jack controlled his father’s estates for years until the divorce business. Cian has been running Innesford and the Irish estate for years and years.” She didn’t add anything more, although

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