Once Upon A Kiss...: The Cinderella Act / Princess in the Making / Temporarily His Princess. Michelle Celmer
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It would look so striking with your complexion.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Sinclair, are you going to buy yourself a shiny new dinner jacket?”
“God, no.” Katherine spoke for him. “He’d wear antiques from his father’s closet if I let him. I’ll make sure he looks presentable.” She flashed him an indulgent smile, which he ignored.
“You’ve given me an idea.” Vicki paused, cream jug in her hand. “Well, maybe it’s crazy.”
“What?” Katherine leaned forward.
“Those dresses you found up in the attic, before I arrived. Maybe I could wear one of those.”
Annie froze in the doorway where she stood with a tray of brandy snaps. Her heart crumpled at the thought of Vicki swanning through the house wearing that peacock-blue dress that had totally deprived Sinclair of his sanity.
“What a marvelous idea. If they don’t fit we could always get one altered. But you’re so slim you could wear anything and look good. They’re all hanging in the spare bedroom downstairs, for reasons beyond my comprehension. There’s a blue one in there that’s stunning. It looks like Thai silk, with a glorious shimmer.”
Annie glanced at Sinclair, who picked up his wineglass and took a gulp of the white wine.
She slunk back into the kitchen. This must be some kind of lesson in humility. Now she’d have to see Vicki wearing the dress to a party the way its maker must have intended. Her donning it, even for a few minutes, was a foolish mistake that continued to have humiliating repercussions.
“Let’s go look at them now, before dessert.” Katherine rose from her chair. “It’ll be fun. Annie, do come with us. You can help us move them somewhere more sensible.”
She wanted to make some excuse about needing to decant the ice cream but her brain wasn’t fast enough. “Okay.” She followed mutely as they walked down the hallway to the spare bedroom with its big walnut wardrobe.
“What a lovely shade of lavender.” Katherine pulled a hanger from the rack. A pale, almost snowy, lavender dress billowed on the hanger. The wrinkles from years of packing seemed to have fallen out of it, leaving it ready to wear. Delicate black beading around the neckline and sleeves added a touch of drama. “Who were these made for, I wonder? The quality is so exquisite.”
Sinclair stood in the doorway, almost filling the frame. His dark blue polo shirt stretched across his broad chest as he leaned against the doorjamb. He looked indulgently at his mother. “Probably someone who died before she had a chance to wear them. It was a different world back then. People died almost overnight from things that barely warrant a doctor’s visit today.”
Annie was touched by how much he obviously cared about his mom. He’d all but abandoned his work and thrown himself into keeping her happy and entertained since her illness began. If she didn’t already admire Sinclair, she would now.
“You’re so right. Still, it might be interesting to find out. I wonder if she was a Drummond by birth, or someone who married into the family.” She pulled out a gray-green dress with a dramatic dark red trim. “It was obviously someone rather fashionable.”
“I’ve done some research, actually.” Vicki moved forward. “The trunk the dresses were stored in had the maker’s name on it, from Lyme, Connecticut.”
Annie snuck a glance at Sinclair while everyone listened to Vicki. His eyes looked slightly shadowed, tired—or haunted. How she’d love to get him to relax for a while. He never seemed to be able to relax when there were other people in the house. He was quite a different person on the rare weekends he came out here by himself.
When it was just him and her.
Though of course he didn’t think of it like that. He probably thought of it as being there alone, since she served a similar function as the anonymous mailman, or the gardener who pruned the bushes and trimmed the lawn.
“Ran away with the groom! You’re joking.” Katherine’s shriek dragged Annie back to the present. “I didn’t think anyone did that outside of mournful ballads. I bet she lived to regret it.”
“Well.” Vicki rearranged her artfully casual bun. “The man she was supposed to marry, Temperance Drummond, tried to have the groom arrested for theft.”
“Of his fiancée?” Sinclair raised a brow.
“Of his horse and cart. The groom was part of her personal staff from Connecticut, but he absconded with the master’s soon-to-be lady in the Drummonds’ carriage.”
“Did they find her?” Katherine looked fascinated.
“Nope. At least there’s no record of it that I could find. They disappeared into thin air in 1863 and were never seen again. Or at least not around here.” She turned to Sinclair with a raised brow. “What do you think happened to them? Did they travel out west, join a wagon train and get rich in the gold rush in California?”
“Who knows? Maybe they did.” Sinclair looked thoughtful. “Though I doubt it.”
“What about you, Annie? Do you think they enjoyed decades of happy marriage?”
She shrugged. Vicki’s attention was always uncomfortable. She was too much of a loose cannon.
“Do you think people from different social circles can live happily ever after?”
Annie shrank. Worse yet, her gaze darted involuntarily toward Sinclair, and met his. A jolt of energy shocked her. She groped for a response in the hope that no one would see how flustered she was. “I don’t see why not. If they have the right things in common.”
“I’m not so sure.” Sinclair’s mother fingered the black trim on the lavender dress. “I think one tends to have more shared interests with someone from one’s own circles. Sinclair’s father has been gone a long time and I’ve never had the slightest interest in dating the gardener.” She laughed as if the very idea was comical. Which it was. The gardener was a taut and muscular woman of about twenty-five. “Though I do admire her abs when she wears those cutoff tops.”
They all laughed. Annie was glad that the moment of tension had been defused. “They’re lovely dresses. It’s a shame she didn’t take them with her.”
“I know. Odd, really. They were part of her trousseau. It was all up there in the attic, packed for her honeymoon. They were going to be married three days later. I found the whole story online in the transcribed memoir of the old biddy who lived next door.” Vicki turned to Sinclair. “You should read it. She has a lot to say about your ancestors. Temperance married five times and his wives kept disappearing.”
Katherine shuddered slightly. “The curse. Or whatever it is. The Drummonds can never find happiness. But we’re going to change all that, so Sinclair can find happiness.” She beamed a smile at him.
Sinclair grimaced, now resting his elbows above his head on either side of the door frame, which provided an eye-popping view of his powerful muscles against the sleeves of his shirt. Annie dragged her tormented gaze in the other direction.
“I’ll make sure he finds happiness at the dance, at least.” Vicki fingered another dress, a frothy pink taffeta with seed pearls encrusting the bodice. “I won’t try these on now, though. Another time. I’m pretty sure at least one will fit fine with no alteration.”
“Let’s go have coffee,” said Sinclair gruffly.
Annie was glad to get away from the spectacle of Vicki handling the dresses. She shouldn’t think of them as her dresses, because they weren’t, but she’d felt proprietary about them ever since she’d tried that one on and been so entranced by it. It was even less encouraging to learn they’d belonged to some long-ago woman whose life had gone off the rails. How likely was a woman to find happiness by running away in a stolen carriage?
She’d never find out. She wasn’t nearly daring enough for