Madeline turned nervous. Of course, white gowns were used for wedding, came the dull thought in her head. This was happening. It was no more an idea, but they would be getting married. Her throat had turned dry at Calhoun’s words.
“Get Lady Madeline a glass of water or fresh juice to drink,” ordered Calhoun as if he knew exactly what she was feeling right now.
“I thought the groom is not supposed to look at the gown. It is considered as bad luck,” Madeline stated, not knowing if he was aware of it or not. Maybe this was a sign that the relationship was going to doom? She asked herself.
“Is that so? Maybe with the humans, but not in the world of the vampires. Come take a look at it,” said Calhoun, the smile on his face turning to a wicked one like he was enjoying seeing her turn nervous. Calhoun didn’t know why, but he enjoyed the plight of Madeline. There was some joy that he basked in, that he could do whatever he wants because she was his while not anyone else’.
After what happened last night, he had got the guards assigned to her room so that she wouldn’t go sleepwalking.
Madeline could feel Calhoun’s eyes that were burning into her as she looked at the gowns that were spread out on the ground on the clean carpet, “Which one do you like?” asked Calhoun. She was still trying to wrap her head around as there was a sea of gowns placed on the ground and she was supposed to choose the one she liked. To pick a wedding gown for a marriage, she was not ready for…
Calhoun then said, “It seems like Lady Madeline didn’t like any of the gowns, Barnby. Such tasteless looking gowns that not even one could catch the eye of the lady,” he etched, and the man who had brought the gowns bowed his head.
“I didn’t say that!” said Madeline, not liking that Calhoun was looking down at the dressmaker.
“But you are unable to choose even one from the lot of it. Unless you have something specific on your mind?” asked Calhoun, leaning forward in his chair, he used his hand to support his chin, “Perhaps you want to get your wedding gown stitched by James Heathcliff?”
Madeline gritted her teeth over Calhoun’s suggestion.
The dressmaker, Barnby, said, “Mr. Heathcliff? He doesn’t have good dresses, milord. It might suit the place he lives in, but he doesn’t know how to make a dress for a royal.” The dressmaker had got the offer to showcase his gowns to the King, and he had brought as many as he could that would suit the King and the lady’s taste with whom he was going to get married to.
Barnby wanted to get the deal because this was no small house but the castle. If he was going to make a dress for the future queen, it would also mean he would get to make more dresses for her in the future while also he would be automatically invited to the wedding.
Madeline didn’t agree with Calhoun, but she didn’t agree with the dressmaker either, “Mr. Heathcliff has good clothes. They have always been tasteful, and it is rude to comment about the place he comes from,” she said.
“Pardon me, milady,” Barnby bowed his head in an apology that he didn’t mean, “But it is the truth. There was a rumour about him, how he makes clothes that are made of cotton and not all silk. They are always mixed. My King,” the dressmaker turned to look at Calhoun, “You should one day ask the magistrate to raid his shop.”
“Are you feeling threatened by Mr. Heathcliff’s work, Sir?” asked Madeline with a frown.
“Of course not, milady. He doesn’t give me a reason to feel threatened about his work. His work cannot be compared to my work,” laughed Barnby, “Why are you supporting his work? There was also another rumour that he made clothes for the woman who was always seen with hi-“
“Are you not fond of your tongue, Barnby?”
The question was not from Madeline but from Calhoun who was listening, to the exchange of words between the two of them in the room. Calhoun was not happy that Madeline was busy protecting James’ work, but at the same time, he enjoyed seeing her speak to the dressmaker without holding back, with what she thought was right.
What a pure thing, thought Calhoun to himself, it made him want to ink it in red.
“Milord?” the volume that Barnby was using turned small like a squeak of mice.
“I asked if you are not fond of your tongue. When did you turn deaf?” asked Calhoun, his eyes moved from Madeline to look at the dressmaker, “Don’t forget you are speaking to the future queen. Soon to be my wife.”
The dressmaker quickly dived forward, pressing his forehead on the carpeted floor, “Pardon this lowly man if he has offended the future queen and the King.” Madeline was startled by the sudden change in the dressmaker’s behaviour. The King was the one to be blamed for it. Barnby had indirectly indicated that it might have been Madeline, who was the one hanging on James’ arm, and she was possibly the muse.
Madeline’s eyes shifted to Calhoun who grinned at her, “Do you like anything in here?” he asked her. She noticed how Barnby looked at her, giving a pleading look.
“Let me go through them,” she answered, swallowing the nervous thought that this was no regular dress but something she would be wearing when she would be getting married to Calhoun.
Calhoun hummed for an answer, rubbing his chin, he said, “Barnby you take the dresses back with you. The lady didn’t find anything interesting in here, and I wouldn’t like to settle with anything less which she is not satisfied with,” he dismissed the dressmaker. He raised his eyes towards the maids who quickly started to help the dressmaker to fold and pack the gowns.
The King pushed himself from the chair he was sitting in to walk to where Madeline was.
“I didn’t say they are not good,” Madeline slowly said to Calhoun, her head turning to look at the sad expression on the dressmaker’s face.
“You were speaking so passionately about James Heathcliff, thought we should give him a try. I mean who better than him to make your wedding dress?” asked Calhoun, his eyes shining in delight, “And,” he said as if he was not finished talking, “I would like to give you the best of everything. From the dress you wear, to place you are in, to what you eat and drink. Company and the man you deserved to be with.”
Madeline was not someone who liked robbing someone’s happiness. It could be the other way around, but she was the last person to do so.
“Please don’t send him away with empty hands,” she pleaded.
“Some people are born with poverty; some are born rich. And some, they make their way up by persistence,” answered Calhoun to her, “If I am going to give the man something, he will believe and expect the same from the next person who will only disappoint him.”
Madeline asked, “So you will disappoint him now?”
Calhoun shrugged his shoulders, “Better now than later. Don’t you agree.”
Somewhere Calhoun had a point. Madeline saw the dressmaker leave the room upset, that she or the King had not picked a dress from the set of gowns he had bought to show them.
“Theo,” called Calhoun and Theodore came to stand in front of the King, “What happened to the cards that need to be distributed?”
“Cards?” asked Madeline, her eyes darting back and forth.
“The invitation for the royal wedding will be sent to people in the towns, villages and some of the people across Devon to attend it,” answered Calhoun. Theodore replied,
“I checked with the minister who is assigned to it. He said he would be showing it to you by this evening.”
Calhoun held a pleased expression, “Wonderful. Now when shall we goto visit the talented tailor?” asked the King, the malicious look passing through his face and Madeline couldn’t help but worry about it.
Three days passed, and the royal carriage made its way towards the East Carswell village, which was Madeline’s home as well as the place where Mr. Heathcliff’s shop was located. Madeline could feel her heart beating in her ear because she didn’t know how things would proceed once they would step into the shop.
“Nervous?” asked Calhoun to her.
“Are we going to visit my family?” Madeline changed the question.
“We will see about that. Depending on if my mood is good once we are done with finding a good dress for you,” replied Calhoun and he started to hum something. Was he saying he was not in a good mood right now? In Madeline’s eyes, Calhoun appeared to be happy. If the smiling person was not happy, what level of happiness would mean that he was in a good mood then?
“I have been working on the letter to send to your family so that they can come to stay over in the castle. But for some strange reason, I haven’t been able to find time to complete it,” commented Calhoun thoughtfully to himself. Was the King writing a letter or a book? Asked Madeline to herself.
“You can instead call them directly as we are heading to the village. They might like it better than a letter,” said Madeline.
Calhoun nodded his head, “Sure. Anything for you,” he offered her a smile.
He remembered how Lucy had mentioned about winning the people around her, which would make her accept him faster.
