Not long after the main story ended, Camilla, Deidre, and Luke settled into a new rhythm.
Camilla had awakened from fifteen years of petrification and begun living at the manor in the Beresford earldom as Countess Beresford. She was still reeling from the shock that her husband, once a boy, had become a fully grown man, and that her daughter, once an infant, had become a beautiful young lady.
“My lady mother. We’ve called for a dressmaker today!”
Deidre announced it cheerfully as Camilla sat with her morning tea, and Camilla blinked in mild confusion.
“A dressmaker?”
“Yes. The weather will be turning cooler, so I wanted to prepare winter dresses early.”
Deidre spoke with bright delight on her sweet face. She had the same dark ash-gray hair as her father and the blue eyes often seen in the Shamrock line. Camilla could not help thinking that, for all her own plainness, she had somehow given birth to an astonishingly lovely daughter.
“And besides,” Deidre went on, “you only know the fashions from fifteen years ago, don’t you? I want you to see what designs are popular now, too.”
“That’s true,” Camilla agreed, then suddenly caught herself.
(I should be the one taking the lead in having Deidre’s dresses made. I’m her mother.)
Deidre had been thoroughly educated as a lady. More than that, she had effectively managed a household that had been without its mistress. Camilla, on the other hand, had petrified after only two years as a baroness, and had never truly learned to direct a large estate as its lady.
Camilla was happy that Deidre had grown into such a capable young woman, and yet it also made her own inadequacy feel painfully obvious.
Still, she smiled for her daughter’s sake.
“I’m curious to see what’s in fashion now. And your dresses are always so beautiful.”
“Thank you. Father bought this for me.”
Deidre lifted the hem of her pale blue dress, turned neatly, and offered a perfect curtsey.
It seemed Luke had spared no expense for his sleeping wife and his growing daughter. Even while Camilla had been petrified, he had commissioned garments that could be changed on her even as she lay on her side, and he had ensured Deidre was never without new dresses.
(The design may be the dressmaker’s, but as the lady of the house, as her mother, I should take part in choosing Deidre’s dresses.)
So Camilla found her resolve, full of purpose.
And then.
“It’s adorable! It’s absolutely perfect!”
“My lady, perhaps this next one…”
“Oh, she looks like a fairy in a flower field!”
“Then, if you would try this one. We were told the countess served as a priestess in a convent before her marriage…”
“Oh, a dress inspired by a cleric’s robe. How lovely this is, too!”
“Um… Deidre?”
Camilla spoke timidly to her daughter, who was squealing with the dressmakers as if at a festival. She tried to reach out, only to be scolded by an apprentice with pins in her mouth.
“Please don’t move, my lady.”
Camilla had assumed the dressmakers were here to make winter dresses for Deidre.
But the moment they arrived, Deidre declared, “Please take care of Mother,” and sent them all toward Camilla. Deidre herself began examining fabric swatches and studying ready-made gowns for reference.
In other words, it was Camilla who was being dressed, again and again.
“Mother, you suit red tones and blue tones so well. I can’t wear red at all, so I envy you.”
“Her ladyship’s soft hair color harmonizes with any shade.”
“It does, doesn’t it? All right then. Mother, next, this one…”
“Wait, Deidre.”
When Deidre turned with a lace-heavy, frilled dress in her hands, Camilla finally stopped her.
“I’m happy you want dresses made for me, but you should be looking for what you want as well.”
Deidre answered as if it were nothing.
“It’s fine. Father has already bought me plenty for autumn and winter.”
She gave the frilled dress a little shake on its hanger.
“Besides, you’re the one who needs them urgently. Oh, it’s a shame we can’t have new autumn dresses made in time.”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” the dressmaker said smoothly. “For the Countess Beresford, we’ll have the workshop work at full capacity and make autumn dresses as well.”
“Really? Thank you. Then we need to choose autumn dresses too…”
“Deidre.”
Camilla called her gently, watching her daughter’s eyes sparkle.
“Thank you. Truly. For thinking of so many things for my sake.”
Deidre hesitated.
“But,” Camilla continued softly, “I want to make dresses for you, too.”
“But…”
“Fifteen years ago… you might not know this, but I was knitting baby clothes for you.”
Camilla had wanted to do something for her child. A maid who was skilled with needles had taught her, and Camilla had started knitting a small sweater.
She had never held long knitting needles before. She dropped stitches, tangled the yarn into hopeless knots, and still forced herself through the work until she finished a single garment. It came out larger than she had intended, so she had thought she might dress Deidre in it during the winter when she turned two.
But that day never came.
Camilla had tucked the sweater deep in the back of a wardrobe, and the maids had not found it. Only when the old baronial house in the capital was torn down and they moved did they finally discover it, and by then Deidre was already grown.
At Camilla’s words, Deidre’s gaze wavered.
“No… I do know.”
Deidre’s voice softened.
“A maid showed it to me. She told me you said you would dress me in it the next winter.”
“I see…”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I kept it carefully, but even so, it became worn…”
“It’s all right.”
Camilla spoke gently, and when the apprentice finished the temporary pinning and stepped away, Camilla went to Deidre and took her hand.
“So, Deidre. I want to think about your dresses.”
Camilla squeezed her daughter’s fingers lightly.
“You have the same complexion as Luke. Deep colors will suit you, and pale ones as well. You’ll wear them beautifully.”
Deidre’s breath caught.
“Mother…”
“May I?”
“It’s not that I don’t want it.”
Deidre suddenly raised her voice, then sniffed sharply.
“I’m happy. I want to wear a dress you chose for me too.”
Camilla laughed softly.
“Good. Then I’ve been dressed quite enough. May we look for what will suit you next?”
Deidre nodded shyly.
“Yes. Thank you, Mother.”
A few days later, Luke returned from the capital.
The Beresford earldom lay just east of the royal capital. When Luke had been granted a viscountcy, he had also been offered lands, but he had insisted on one condition.
“A place with good scenery, less than a day’s travel from the capital.”
He had refused to yield.
As a result, Beresford lands were not vast and had no remarkable specialty, but they were rich in beauty and close to the capital. Thanks to that, Luke could travel swiftly between the capital and the manor where his wife and daughter lived. Today as well, he had ridden hard to return home.
“I’m back.”
“Welcome home, Father!”
Deidre came to him as he handed his baggage to the butler. And then Luke noticed.
She wore a dress he did not recall giving her. It was new.
“Another new dress? If you’d told me, I would have bought it for you.”
Deidre smiled smugly.
“What a pity, Father. Mother chose this one.”
“…What?”
“And.”
Deidre turned and called down the corridor.
“Please come here, Mother!”
Luke looked past her.
Camilla stood half-hidden behind a pillar, peeking out with only her face visible, the rest of her concealed by the wall.
The moment Luke saw her, his face brightened.
But Camilla, who would usually come forward with a shy smile and say her greeting, was fidgeting in place as if she could not decide what to do.
“Camilla. I’ve returned.”
Luke’s voice gentled.
“Is something the matter?”
“Honestly. Don’t be shy. Come here!”
Urged by her daughter and pressed by her husband’s concern, Camilla finally stepped out.
She was wearing the same dress as Deidre.
“Wha…”
Deidre lifted her chin with pride.
“See? I had them make two gowns in the exact same design.”
Camilla did not have a particularly outrageous imagination. Luke could tell at once that this was Deidre’s idea.
Camilla wore an autumn dress in deep wine red with gold accents, identical to Deidre’s. Her face was crimson with embarrassment. She had designed it to suit a sixteen-year-old girl, and had clearly never imagined she herself would be dressed in the same thing.
Luke went silent. He looked from daughter to wife, again and again, as though trying to reassure himself that what he saw was real.
Then Camilla pressed her hands to her face.
“I know it doesn’t suit my age. Oh, honestly. Deidre said something ridiculous and now…”
“It suits you.”
Luke’s voice was firm.
“It suits you very well.”
He passed by Deidre, drew Camilla close with an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her temple.
“Your hair and eyes are warm in tone. Wearing deep red makes you look like an autumn spirit.”
Luke’s gaze lingered, hungry with admiration.
“I want to look at you properly. Shall we go upstairs?”
“Luke…”
Camilla understood immediately what he meant and shot a glance at Deidre.
Deidre only waved her hand lightly, smiling.
“Please take your time. But dinner will be soon, so don’t overdo it.”
“Deidre!”
Luke smiled like a man intoxicated with happiness.
“Even Deidre has given permission. Come.”
He took Camilla’s hand.
“Let me look at you more. Let me see you as long as I like.”
Against Luke’s radiant grin, Camilla could not bring herself to say no.
Her face still burning red, she let him lead her up the stairs.
Deidre watched them go, her eyes warm, then faintly exasperated.
“Truly. Father is hopelessly weak to Mother.”
“A Dress For You”—The end.
