The Bride Behind the Curtain Read Online Free PDF

known it was her when he held her for so long. Her skin still tingled with the memory of his strong arms around her and his solid chest against her back, and his thighs . . . his thighs underneath hers. His eyes had been bright with the silver reflection of winter snow as they looked at her and laughed. The purr of his voice in her ear lit a fire inside like nothing she’d ever felt.
    Of course, he’d see her in her dress at the ball, and then there’d be another memory. This one would be much colder, much sadder. Adele bit her lip and glanced along the empty corridor. Maybe, just maybe, if she hurried, she could get to her room before she was spotted. There was still a chance she’d be able to convince Bridget that . . .
    â€œAdele! Merciful Heavens, where have you been?”
    Adele’s aunt, the widowed and perpetually harassed-looking Mary Kearsely, burst from her apartments, her long-suffering maid trailing behind her with a gold ribbon in her hands. Adele opened her mouth to reply, but Aunt Kearsely had already waved her words away. “Oh, never mind, never mind. Bridget! Here is Lady Adele at last. Get her ready. The gown is all laid out,” Mrs. Kearsely said. “You’ll be wearing the yellow.”
    Adele’s heart plummeted. “But Aunt, I thought I might perhaps wear the green. It’s only . . .”
    â€œThe green is entirely out of date, and you’ve already been seen in it. The yellow is the first stare of fashion. Madame Flaubert made it to my precise specifications. You know we have to cover . . . well, your flaws.”
    You mean my hips. And my waist. And my bosom.
    Adele felt her chin tremble, but Aunt Kearsely wasn’t even looking at her anymore. “Ah! Now here’s your sister. At least one of you is punctual!”
    Patience might be two years younger than Adele, but she was also three inches taller and fashionably slender. Which was to her advantage, because it meant she could make even the shell pink ball gown she’d ordered look lovely. The color was fine, but the skirt was a full bell of silk made stiff by no fewer than three rows of blue beaded lace. The same lace overwhelmed a swooping neckline that might otherwise have been daring. As it was, the cut only emphasized by Patience’s swanlike neck adorned with a chain of pearls with a blue topaz set neatly in the middle. More blue beading at her sleeves and hem drew attention to her white wrists and the tiniest hint of well-turned ankles encased in gold stockings with sapphire flocking.
    â€œSo beautiful,” murmured Aunt Kearsely, touching the corner of her eye. “The
image
of my poor, dear sister.”
    â€œWell, Adele, what do you think?” Patience snapped open her fan of dyed lace and turned about. “Will I do?”
    Only if you remake that entire dress.
But no one would notice, because this was Patience, and she was popular and beautiful, so whatever she wore would be considered beautiful as well. “Of course you’ll do, Patience,” answered Adele through clenched teeth. “You always do anything you want.”
    Her sister frowned, trying to work out if she’d just been insulted. Aunt Kearsely heaved an enormous and despairing sigh.
    â€œOh, go get dressed, silly girl. And no more arguments. I’m already exhausted.”
    Left with no choice, Adele walked into her rooms, trying not to feel like she was heading to the guillotine. The dress was indeed laid out on her lace-covered bed, and it was indeed the first stare of fashion. It was also buttercup yellow, with five tiers of white rosettes around its hem, a broad white sash that tied in an enormous bow in the back, a ruffled, translucent white capelet to drape over her shoulders and décolletage in a manner that was supposed to be both modest and daring. It might even have worked, if it hadn’t been for the lace ruff that would fasten right