His slow smile turned her heart over. Maybe that moment was even better. He kissed her wrist. So gently. A caress that she felt all the way to her toes.
“Do I get Casimir? Not Tomasso?”
“I’ll change at the church.”
“Church?” she echoed, because she couldn’t imagine that they could walk into a church and get married. He’d said “priest” and that went with a church, but perhaps he was unaware that people were in them even during the day and they couldn’t very well get married in a small village and not have the news leak out.
“Trust me. Our wedding will be beautiful. We need to find you a dress.”
“This is Italy. One-of-a-kind wedding dresses. It isn’t like we can walk into a store and find a gown hanging.”
“You never know until you try, golubushka,” he said.
They found the dress in the third shop they walked into: Sophie Rigoli, a very famous Italian designer. Lissa hadn’t wanted to go into the shop because the gowns were beautiful beyond description, terribly expensive and one of a kind. Very original. It wasn’t like they could walk in and have one made in a day. She went because Casimir was so insistent and there was something in her that compelled her to give him whatever he wanted.
He’d planned their wedding. He bought her a ring. He intended to go with her to get the Sorbacovs. Most importantly, he had her back when her uncle and Arturo had broken her heart and turned her world upside down.
The shop was small, and she stayed back, near the door, while Casimir did the talking, explaining what they needed. To Lissa’s shock, the little Italian woman was practicing the dying art of traditional bobbin lace. She found herself moving forward, fascinated by the way the woman’s hands moved swift and sure when she already had at least nine bobbins hanging from the pattern she was creating, twisting the thread in the labor intensive and beautiful way rarely seen.
The woman’s eyes went to Lissa while Casimir talked, assessing her figure. A smile broke out and she nodded. “We had a dress made that couldn’t be used. The bride ran off. A big scandal. Her parents were embarrassed. Sophie’s beautiful creation sits here, but the dress could have been made for you. Would you like to see it?”
Lissa thought it was rather interesting that the bride had fled before her wedding and Lissa and Casimir were marrying in secret. She was absolutely certain the dress would be perfect, and more, it would fit as if it had been made for her. There was something beautiful and very right about finding the dress.
The shopkeeper put down her bobbins and led her to a small changing area in the back and brought out a dress. Lissa’s breath caught in her throat. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. The exquisite ivory wedding dress was definitely a Sophie Rigoli. The slip gown was heavily beaded with jewels. The neckline plunged low and the back was an illusion of jewels made of the traditional bobbin lace, with sheer fabric from neck to the waist. The natural waistline held more beadwork done with jewels. Silk organza ruffles accented the skirt and train.
Lissa stared at herself in the mirror. The dress clung to her every curve, emphasized her small waist and lush breasts. The shopkeeper brought out a veil with the same sheer material and illusion of jewels done in the bobbin lace. The veil went from her head to the floor, to add to the beauty of the train. She ran her hand down the dress, unable to believe she was actually standing there, looking at herself in the mirror in something so beautiful.
“I want this,” she breathed. Still, it had to cost a fortune.
“Your gentleman said anything you wanted. Cost did not matter. I have the silk stockings and garter to go with it.”
She also had ivory lace underwear and a pair of silver strappy heels. There was a beautiful silver necklace and drop earrings that looked perfect with the plunging neckline. Lissa didn’t ask the price. She knew if she did, she would never allow Casimir to pay for it all. She told herself after she sold the chandeliers to the other hotels she would have the money to pay him back, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. Her day. Her only day. She just hoped Casimir thought the dress and veil would be worth the money as well when he saw them on her.
He didn’t raise an eyebrow when he paid, laughing and talking with the shopkeeper, oozing charm in the way he did. With the dress inside a garment bag, they drove the forty minutes to the city and straight to a Russian Orthodox church. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. The church appeared deserted, and they went around the building, through a garden to a side entrance. Casimir knocked twice and waited. The heavy door was unlocked, and Casimir took her hand and drew her inside.