Chapter 73
“Thank you for your consideration.”
Even in the faint sunlight slipping through the curtains, Rebecca seemed to glow.
Her face, once so pale it was almost white, now had a healthy flush.
Perhaps because of that, her lips—already rosy before—looked even more temptingly red. She seemed to have gained a bit of weight too, but that only made her look better.
Sandra had always preferred models with soft curves to those who were too thin.
Of course, Rebecca was a perfect model no matter what shape she had.
As Sandra admired the elegant lines of Rebecca’s graceful figure, she hurriedly covered her mouth with a hand—
If she didn’t, she knew she’d start gushing embarrassingly again, just like last time.
“Lady Rebecca! What happened? I heard you were unwell…”
“That’s not entirely wrong. But I’ve recovered now.”
“I heard it was a divine illness. Does that mean you’ve become a saint?”
“No. But I did receive another kind of holy blessing, and it helped me heal.”
Rebecca smiled shyly.
Sandra blinked, not understanding what she meant.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Rebecca’s mysterious smile made Sandra lose herself for a moment before she hurriedly came back to her senses.
Sandra drew aside the heavy silk curtains in the back.
A wide space filled with mirrors came into view—
a private showroom open only to special clients. Sandra led Rebecca inside.
After setting out some light refreshments and taking a seat, Rebecca began to speak.
“You must’ve been surprised by my sudden visit.”
“I was, but I’m truly glad. I’ve been worried about where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to.”
“I appreciate your concern. By the way, you must be busy preparing for the Devonshire Earl’s ball.”
Rebecca said, recalling the racks of dresses she’d seen in the boutique earlier.
At the mention of the Earl of Devonshire, Sandra gave an awkward smile.
“There’s no need to look like that. It’s all in the past now, and you can’t afford to lose such an opportunity because of me. By the way, have you met Lady Alicia—the Countess of Devonshire?”
“Well…”
“So you have. I suppose she commissioned a dress for the ball as well?”
“Y-yes…”
Sandra couldn’t bring herself to lie under Rebecca’s clear gaze. She squeezed her eyes shut and confessed.
“I didn’t want to take the order, but I have to make a living…”
“Oh, I’m not scolding you, Sandra. Of course, you should do your work. I have no right to stop you. In fact, I came today to commission a dress myself.”
“A dress?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t make a reservation beforehand—will that be a problem?”
Sandra quickly shook her head, afraid Rebecca might change her mind.
“Not at all! For you, Lady Rebecca, I’ll always make time. You’re my muse! What design would you like?”
“I don’t have any grand requests. Just…”
Rebecca smiled.
Sandra couldn’t take her eyes off that smile—it had been so long since she’d seen it.
“I’d like it to be the most beautiful dress of all—one that will make me the center of attention at the ball.”
“Lady Rebecca, even if you wore a burlap sack, everyone would still look at you.”
Rebecca laughed at the sincerity in Sandra’s words.
Sandra’s compliments were always pure and heartfelt, and they never failed to cheer Rebecca up.
“Still, I can’t dance in a burlap sack. Especially not when Lady Alicia will be there—I want something even more splendid than her dress.”
“Lady Alicia…”
Sandra fell into thought, recalling the design Alicia had commissioned.
Rebecca tilted her head at Sandra’s silence.
“Is it too difficult?”
“No, not at all. I can do it. How could I turn down an order from you? I’ll pour my soul into it.”
Sandra already had a rough design in mind.
As always, Rebecca was the perfect muse.
Rebecca smiled brightly.
“Thank you. It’s not much of a reward, but I’ll promise you this—when the time comes, I’ll have you make my wedding dress.”
Sandra froze.
A wedding dress?
“Strange thing for a newly divorced woman to say, isn’t it? But yes, I’ll be having a wedding soon.”
Sandra’s jaw fell open in shock.
“It’s a secret, just for you. I don’t want it spreading yet—rumors can ruin even the best-laid plans. You understand, don’t you?”
Sandra nodded slightly.
Her boutique had risen to success not only because of her skill, but because she could keep her mouth shut.
All sorts of society gossip passed through her shop, yet not a word ever leaked out.
That was why many noblewomen came to her—to talk, to confide, and to gossip safely.
Rebecca knew Sandra’s discretion well, and so she trusted her completely.
And, there was another reason she had come.
“Lady Rebecca, not being able to make your wedding dress is my life’s greatest regret.”
Sandra had always sighed like that whenever she took Rebecca’s measurements.
When Rebecca married Zeppelin, Sandra hadn’t yet opened her own atelier.
She had seen the design of the dress Rebecca wore back then and fumed in secret.
“They didn’t bring out any of her best features! And that lace—so tacky!”
If she had made it, it could have been a masterpiece for the ages—and Rebecca would have shone like no other.
Knowing that dream, Rebecca had come to her personally.
For the chance to make Rebecca’s wedding gown, Sandra would wholeheartedly support her marriage.
Could it be…
Sandra looked up at her blankly. Rebecca’s shy smile was that of a woman deeply loved.
Seeing how happy she looked now, Sandra suddenly thought of Duke Johannes—
the black veil Rebecca wore today, and all the little clues… it all fit.
Rebecca had even danced with the Duke once before.
Sandra’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth in shock.
“Lady Rebecca, don’t tell me… your fiancé is… Duke Johannes…?”
Rebecca didn’t deny it. She just gave Sandra a playful wink.
That was answer enough.
“I’ll take this secret to my grave!”
Sandra’s heart raced with excitement.
Rebecca had entrusted her with such a massive secret—it made her feel like a true confidante.
And the idea of Rebecca remarrying Duke Johannes! What a scandal that would be!
Sandra struggled to keep her mouth shut, though she wanted to ask a hundred questions. Rebecca just smiled knowingly.
“I knew I could count on you, Sandra.”
“Of course, my lady. Is there anything else you need?”
“There is one thing. Could I buy a dress right now?”
“A custom one might take time, but if you’d like one from the display, that’s no problem. Most of the mannequins are dressed in pieces made to your measurements. You look a bit fuller now, but I can alter them in no time.”
“Would it really be alright to take one?”
“Of course! If you ever want a dress, just let me know and I’ll have one ready. But you’ll let me make the wedding dress, right?”
Rebecca nodded with a smile.
Even if Sandra refused, Rebecca had planned to insist.
Sandra stood up with a pleased grin.
“Then let me show you right away! I’ve been dying to show you all the designs I’ve made lately.”
Rebecca quietly watched Sandra rush to open the wardrobe.
A muse, huh…
Now that she thought about it, many artists had called her that since she was young.
They would gaze at her with the same fervent light Sandra had in her eyes now.
Some were even world-famous names.
Back then, she’d felt a thrill knowing she could inspire such geniuses.
In her younger, more foolish days, she’d even felt proud seeing her portraits hanging in galleries.
But once that fleeting satisfaction faded, a heavy sense of emptiness always followed.
Did they really see Rebecca, the woman behind the blue eyes—
or only the beauty they could capture on canvas?
“Lady Rebecca!”
Sandra’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Rows of dresses hung neatly on wheeled racks.
“Please, choose any one you like!”
Sandra watched eagerly, trying to guess which dress Rebecca would pick.
Maybe the lemon-colored one? No—autumn was coming, so perhaps something darker.
That would make Rebecca’s glowing skin stand out even more… and her design, too.
Whenever Rebecca wore one of her dresses, business would double overnight.
Rebecca drew attention wherever she went.
But that wasn’t the only reason Sandra adored her.
Being around Rebecca was… peaceful.
Catering to the whims of noble clients was exhausting, but Rebecca was different.
She never made absurd demands, always listened kindly, and—most importantly—treated Sandra, a commoner and tradeswoman, like an equal.
Rebecca walked past the dresses Sandra had proudly prepared and opened a large wardrobe.
It was where the outdated pieces were stored. After flipping through several garments, she pointed to one hanging in the corner.
“This one will do.”
Sandra’s eyes widened.
The dress Rebecca chose was one fit for a funeral.
And it was so out of style that Sandra had planned to donate it soon.
“Are you sure, my lady? If you’re choosing it just to be polite, I can show you—”
“No, it’s perfect. This is exactly the dress I was looking for.”
Rebecca smiled brightly and took the dress out of the wardrobe.
Faint light filtered through the sack covering her head.
The door creaked open, and light footsteps approached.
Was it finally the person who had kidnapped her?
Since losing consciousness at the mansion, Grace had been tied to a chair, left in the dark for what felt like ages.
Who could have done this…
She went over everyone who might bear a grudge against her.
Aside from Octavio, no one stood out.
Anyone who’d hated her enough to harm her was already dead.
One word from Zeppelin, and his hounds would take care of her enemies.
Being one of Zeppelin’s close aides had its perks—she never had to dirty her own hands.
But even so, it didn’t make sense for Octavio to be behind this.
She’d never crossed into his territory.
They had maintained a careful balance of power while running the Earl of Devonshire’s estate together.
If anything, her disappearance would only be a nuisance to Octavio—
it wasn’t easy to find a head maid as competent as her.
Then who…
