Page 16 of Bound By the Duke

A third assistant brought in the second gown. It was made of embroidered petals that spilled down the skirts like falling blossoms. When Aurelia stepped into it, the fabric wrapped around her like wind in a garden.

Celia clapped her hands, cutting through the gentle silence. “You look like a fairy.”

“A fairy who’s about to be locked in a castle,” Nora murmured, her voice low but not unkind.

Hyacinth caught Aurelia’s eye. She could see that Aurelia wasn’t impressed by the glamour of the gown. “Try another?”

Aurelia took a deep breath and nodded.

The third gown was different. It was simple, but with a high waist and delicate pearl beading along the sleeves. The kind of gown one would not notice in a room, until one saw the way it moved and the woman inside it.

When Aurelia looked at herself in the mirror, she felt like something.

Not a duchess. Not a fairy. Just…herself.She felt like herself.

Determined. Kind. Tired, maybe. But still standing.

“I love this one.” She smiled at her reflection and smoothed her skirt, her fingertips brushing the satin gently.

“I agree. It fits you perfectly.” Celia beamed as she rose. “Your wedding will be beautiful, trust me,” she said, patting her on the shoulder.

“Of course it will be. I will be playing the piano,” Nora teased, and her brows suddenly flew up. “Remember the pianoforte?”

“Of course, I do.” Celia nodded with a growing grin.

“Oh no,” Aurelia muttered, turning away from the mirror.

She already knew what was about to happen. Her sisters were about to recount one of her most embarrassing childhood moments.

“I must tell Hyacinth.” Celia grinned wider. “It was years ago.”

“Story time,” Aurelia groaned with an eye roll.

“Aurelia had read somewhere,” Celia began, her hand still resting on her sister’s shoulder, “that no gently bred lady should be without musical accomplishments. So she set out to become avirtuosa.”

“She made it sound like a military campaign,” Nora added. “She even made charts.”

“I did not make charts,” Aurelia protested with a strained chuckle.

“Yes, you did. Color-coded ones.”

Hyacinth burst into laughter. “Was she any good?”

“Eventually,” Celia said, dragging out the word with a theatrical flair. “But for the first two years, it was as if someone had trapped a squirrel inside the instrument.”

“I cried during one of her recitals,” Nora confessed. “From pain.”

“You’re all horrible,” Aurelia said with a genuine laugh.

“She practiced until her fingers blistered,” Celia continued, her voice a little softer now. “Even when we begged her to stop.”

“Even when the housemaid gave her notice,” Nora added, smirking. “Or the embroidery phase.”

Aurelia shot her a mock glare. But Celia was not easily deterred.

“Yes, she was convinced it would become her signature talent,” she snorted. “She was so determined for that to happen thatshe couldn’t hold a teacup properly for a week after having her fingers pricked so many times.”

“I was bleeding through my gloves at the morning call,” Aurelia admitted, laughing again.