Say You Will(32)
But as he reigned in his desire, she led him up to a shop door and pressed the buzzer.
A disembodied voice spoke through the intercom. “Yes?”
“I have an appointment. Rosalind Aberville.” She winked at him. “And my fiancé Nick.”
Fiancé.
It startled him, but he looked at her and it felt startlingly right. He smiled as she slipped her hand in his and led him through the buzzing door.
There were white dresses all over, with a rug in the middle of the room and a large couch with some magazines on a table. He followed Rosalind inside, feeling silly and out of place in the midst of all the frippery.
It must have been written on his face, because Rosalind squeezed his hand as a middle-aged woman come out of the back to greet them. “Miss Aberville, it’s a pleasure. I’m Virginia. Can I bring you some tea or champagne as you fill out the forms?”
“Champagne would be lovely,” Rosalind said, taking the clipboard from the woman and settling on the couch.
Nick sat next to her, putting his arm around the back. He waited until Virginia was gone to say, “Are we signing away our first born in order to buy a dress?”
She gave him an amused glance. “They’re getting the pertinent information, like the day and type of wedding we’re having.”
“I didn’t realize we’d agreed on one yet”—he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth—”but I’m willing to do it as soon as possible to get on to the wedding night.”
Flushing, she lowered her voice and said, “Stop distracting me. I’m here on business.”
“What sort?”
“I want to see what styles are popular right now. It’s one thing to see the dresses in the magazines, but it’s another to see what appeals to real women.”
He looked around at all the white dresses. “We’re going to look at all these?”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry. We won’t be long.”
The saleswoman came back with a silver tray that held two tall flutes of champagne. She set them on the table and smiled at Rosalind as she held out the clipboard. “I’m not certain what style I’d like,” Rosalind said in a clipped upper crust voice he wasn’t used to hearing from her. “What’s popular right now?”
Virginia went directly to one rack of dresses and pulled out a long lacy gown. “The more demure dresses are very au curant of course.”
“Of course,” Rosalind murmured, touching the sleeve and examining the front of it. She shook her head. “This is too demure for me, isn’t that right, Nick?”
He nodded, pretending to seriously consider the dress. “Definitely something shorter that shows your legs.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be proper either. Our parents after all.” Rosalind nudged his ribs and turned to the woman. “Perhaps something a touch more slinky though?”
“Of course.” Virginia returned the dress to its spot and walked two racks over and pulled out one right from the middle.
“Amazing,” Nick muttered.
Rosalind looked askance at him.
“She has dress radar,” he explained under his breath. “How does she know exactly where the one dress she wants is?”
Rosalind grinned crookedly at him. “It’s a gift of some sort, I’m sure.”
Virginia brought the dress over and held it out. “Silk charmeuse. The back drapes beautifully.”
It looked like something a woman would wear more to greet a lover than for her wedding, but Nick was perfectly happy to see Rosalind in it.
“I’ll try it on.” Rosalind, with the same sort of unerring radar, went to a rack and pulled out a fluffy white dress. “As well as this one.”
“Very good,” the saleswoman said without a hint of judgement to her tone. She took the dress from Rosalind’s hands. “Is there anything else you’d like to try on?”
“I’ll start with these two,” she said, touching another one with concentration that he recognized as professional curiosity. Then she adopted the blushing bride persona again and smiled. “I’m ready. Nick, will you bring the champagne?”
He followed them into a dressing room area, glasses in hand. There was a large platform in front of a three-way mirror and another seating area.
“Have a seat while we get her ready.” Virginia gestured to a couch. “I must say, it’s rather unusual to have the groom here. Most brides don’t want the groom to see the dress beforehand.”
“Rosalind isn’t like most,” he said as he sat where he was told. He picked up one of the wedding magazines and flipped through it as he sipped his champagne.