Page 2 of His Scandalous Duchess (Icy Dukes #4)

Cecilia shrugged modestly, though inwardly, her heart lifted at the sound of Lucy’s laughter. Thankfully, she had been able to ease some of the tension that Lucy was carrying. Lucy looked a bit more relaxed now. Her eyes were bright, and the familiar dimple had returned to her cheek.

A soft knock at the door interrupted their momentary respite, followed by a gentle voice from the other side. “Miss Lucy, Miss Cecilia, dinner is ready, and the guests are already gathering in the dining room.”

Lucy straightened with a reluctant breath and called softly. “Thank you. We shall be there shortly.” She sighed softly, smoothing the folds of her gown. “The evening unfolds, whether I am ready or not,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Tell me, Cecilia,” Lucy continued, turning her attention back to Cecilia. “Has my mother and your father finally torn each other to pieces yet? Or are they still managing to keep the war polite enough for everyone to pretend it’s not happening?”

Cecilia chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Oh, the war is very much ongoing, I assure you. Though the rest of us try desperately to distract them or at least avoid being caught in the crossfire.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Figures. Sometimes, I think they get more enjoyment from sparring with each other than from the company of any of us.”

Cecilia smiled. “Well, let’s just hope they don’t get into each other’s crosshairs at dinner tonight, or we’ll all be ducking for cover.”

Lucy gave a wry smile. “Well, at least you only have to put up with my mother now and then, at dinners or family gatherings. I have to live with her every single day.”

Cecilia lowered her head and stared at her fingers. “You won’t have to put up with her any longer. By tomorrow, you will be married. You will be a duchess.”

“Oh! I nearly forgot to give you this.” Lucy said hastily.

She stood and crossed to the wardrobe, carefully opening one of the larger compartments.

From within, she pulled out a long bundle swathed in fine muslin and tied with a satin ribbon.

Turning around, she held it out to Cecilia with both hands.

The smile on her face, showing the dress to Cecilia was so bright, it made Cecilia uneasy.

“What is it?” Cecila asked.

“Your dress!” she beamed. “I had something made for you. A dress. I want you to wear it on my wedding day. I saw the fabric and thought of you instantly. It’s simple, yet elegant. Exactly right, and it would match your beautiful blue eyes.”

Cecilia scratched her nape and slowly rose to her feet. “You bought me a dress? For your wedding?”

“Well, yes!” Lucy said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Lucy, I already brought a dress with me.”

“No, you must wear this!” Lucy insisted. “It wouldn’t feel right to walk down the aisle without my dearest cousin looking like the marvel she is. Please say you’ll wear it?”

Cecilia walked over to where Lucy stood, assessing the dress. “Well, if you insist, then of course I’ll wear it,” Cecilia said softly. She took the parcel from Lucy and ran her hand lightly over the material beneath. “Thank you, truly.”

“You’re most welcome. Can you try it on now?” Lucy asked, already tugging at the muslin wrap. “I want to see how it fits.”

“Now?” Cecilia’s eyes widened.

“We still have a little time before we’re needed downstairs again.”

Cecilia opened her mouth to protest, given that there would be other moments to try it on, surely, but Lucy was already moving too fast. Not only was it odd that she had bought her a dress for the wedding, but it was also peculiar that she wanted her to try it on now, when they had already been summoned downstairs.

“Lucy–” Cecilia made to say.

“It’ll be quick. Just try it on. Don’t worry. Quickly.”

Cecilia sighed, casting Lucy a look that said she clearly didn’t believe any part of that reassurance. But she stepped behind the folding screen all the same, hands moving to the back of her gown.

“I’ll help,” Lucy said, already placing the new dress carefully on a nearby armchair. “There is no way you can possibly take off your gown without my help.”

She followed Cecilia behind the screen, and without a word, began working the buttons loose. Once the endless line of buttons that trailed down her back had been halfway undone, Lucy let out a small huff.

“Whoever thought twenty-four tiny pearl buttons were a good idea clearly never had to undress in a hurry,” she muttered, finally undoing the last of them.

The bodice slackened, and with a bit of a wiggle, Cecilia stepped out of the dress, causing the purple silk to rustle softly as it pooled at her feet.

“Here, I’ll hold this one, while you try on the new one,” Lucy said, hastily picking up Cecilia’s dress from the ground and hugging it tightly to her chest as she rushed over to bring the blue gown.

“I’ll leave you to try this one,” Lucy said, handing over the dress. She didn’t wait for a reply before moving across the room and settling on the edge of the bed, the gown draped over her lap.

Behind the screen, Cecilia let out a breath, barely audible above the gentle rustle of fabric.

She was already exhausted, and the evening had barely begun.

The new gown, an exquisite shade of deep cornflower blue, caught the light with the faintest sheen, the kind only the finest silks managed.

Its bodice was adorned with intricate silver embroidery, delicate vines and tiny blossoms. A row of mother-of-pearl buttons glinted along the back, and the skirt fell in graceful folds, light yet structured, with a soft lace trimming at the hem.

She ran her hand over the fabric before stepping into it, the silk cool against her skin. “Lucy, if we are to get this done quickly, I will need your help,” she called out.

Slowly, she eased it up over her shoulders, adjusting the sleeves, and began the familiar yet always mildly frustrating process of fastening what she could from the front.

“Lucy?” she called out again after her former request was met by silence. “What are you doing over there?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Lucy said from the bed, springing up and setting Cecilia’s dress aside. She crossed the room in a few swift steps and disappeared behind the screen once more, her fingers already moving to fasten the buttons.

Cecilia held still, her back straight as she felt Lucy’s hands working down the length of her spine. The fabric settled around her like water, weightless and soft, clinging in just the right places.

“I cannot believe you think my trying on a dress for your wedding is more important than our presence downstairs,” Cecilia remarked.

“Leave me be, Cecilia,” Lucy said, her voice trembling even as she tried to steady it. “Tomorrow, I am to be wed to the coldest man I have ever met. I don’t know what sort of life that promises me. I don’t know what kind of wife I’ll be to someone who seems to see right through me.”

Cecilia’s brows lifted. “I take it you’re not very fond of your betrothed.”

“He’s always so…proper. Cold,” she explained. “He barely speaks unless he must, and when he does, it’s like he’s reciting lines from a book.”

Cecilia scoffed. “That is not necessarily a bad thing.”

“I know,” she mumbled. “He has been married before, you know. But sadly, his wife died a few years ago.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“It is,” she said and then stepped back, assessing the dress on Cecilia. “I knew it. You look absolutely stunning. The blue almost matches the blue of your eyes.”

Cecilia gave a modest huff of laughter and turned slowly toward the mirror. She tilted her head and nodded. “It is beautiful. I can’t wait to wear it out tomorrow.”

Before Lucy could respond, a knock sounded at the door.

“Girls?” came Emma’s familiar voice. “It’s time to come down. The guests are seated.”

“Coming!” They both chorused.

Cecilia turned sharply toward Lucy, eyes wide. “I need to change back.” She was already moving toward the screen, reaching behind to fumble at the buttons of the gown. “Help me, please.”

Lucy giggled and hurried to her, grabbing the old gown on the bed before following Cecilia behind the screen.

“Hurry, before your mother comes up and finds me in my petticoats,” Cecilia whispered.

Lucy giggled. “You make it sound like she might combust.”

“She might.”

“Fair enough.”

Once Cecilia was back in her original gown and smoothing down the creases, they made their way downstairs. Laughter and polite chatter floated through the air as family and friends settled into their places around the long, polished table.

Cecilia’s eyes swept the room almost instinctively, searching for the one face that was still missing. The groom. She spotted the empty chair beside Lucy’s reserved place and figured that he had not come down yet.

Was he still in the study, scribbling letters to this mysterious Abigail?

As Cecilia eased into her chair, a sudden, sharp sound pierced through the low murmur of conversation.

It was an undeniable loud rip. Her heart jolted.

She froze, fingers clutching the edge of the table, as her eyes darted downward.

To her horror, the seam near the side of her gown had given way, and the fabric had come apart just enough to reveal the pale lining beneath.

“Oh, no, this cannot be happening,” she whispered to herself.

Among the guests were not only her immediate family and Aunt Marianne but also distant relatives whose judgments were always sharper than daggers. Cecilia’s cheeks flamed with heat as panic threatened to rise.

“What is it?” someone whispered from behind her.

Startled, Cecilia turned slightly to find Lucy standing just behind her. She hadn’t noticed that Lucy hadn’t taken her seat at the table either.

“It’s… my dress,” Cecilia whispered back. “I’ve torn the seam. It’s ruined. I cannot sit like this.”

Without hesitation, Lucy reached out, gently touching Cecilia’s arm. “Come with me,” she said quietly. “I’ll help you slip out of the dining room without anyone noticing.”

They exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance before slipping out from the table, carefully avoiding the direct gaze of Aunt Marianne, who remained engrossed in conversation across the room.

The pair moved swiftly towards the corridors, and Lucy made sure to block Cecilia with her body as they moved out of the room.

“Your room is just upstairs,” Lucy said when they reached the corridor.

“Third door on the left. Your bags should be there inside. Change there, into the dress you planned to wear tomorrow, it’s safer than trying to fix that tear now.

Then, you can wear the new gown I bought you for the wedding itself. ”

Cecilia sighed in relief. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

Lucy smiled softly. “I’ll make sure no one notices your absence at the table. Remember the third door to your left.”

With a nod, she quickly made her way up the stairs, counting the doors as she hurried by.

Once she got to the third one, she hurried inside.

The moment she closed the door behind her, she allowed herself a moment to breathe before she began to undress quickly.

The last thing she wanted was Aunt Marianne throwing a tantrum because of her absence at the table.

Just as Cecilia slipped out of the gown, she made to search the dimly-lit room for her bags when the low, sharp voice of a man broke the silence from the other end of the room.

“What on earth do you think you are doing in here?”