𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯

20. - COUNT ON ME

"Has my bath been prepared?"

"All ready, Lady Melissa." Eliza Tilney walked in, a wide smile on her face.

The red-head could not help but grin back at her, euphoria starting to spread throughout her body. Today was the day she would marry Richard. Richard!

"God, I never thought this day would come!" She marveled inwardly, heading to the adjacent chambers, where a bath of steaming hot water awaited her, scented with citrus oils and delicate flower petals. Settling herself in the wooden tub, she let her eyes close in bliss. 

Years ago, during regularly made trips to the markets near Grafton Regis, village girls had taunted Melissa and her sisters for their unfortunate circumstances.

"You shall all die as old maids!" One of them had yelled out, causing little Catherine to lash out, biting the girl's hand like a wild dog. She had only been five years old, then, the Woodville predicament known to many who lived around them, and she had received a good bollocking for it, but Melissa had praised her in private. Now, not only did the red-head feel euphoric at her impending marriage to the one she believed she loved, but also smug, wondering where those girls were now.

"Nowhere," she murmured lightly. "They are nowhere."

"What was that, my lady?" Joan spoke up, her hands gently running through wet, darkened strands of Melissa's hair.

"Nothing, Joan." The soon-to-be duchess smiled. "Nothing at all."

The lady looked puzzled, but nodded nonetheless, picking up instead a bar of smooth, white soap. Imported from Castile, it was made of olive oil, and its usage made the skin rather soft and smooth. It was also a very rare commodity, and thus a reminder for Melissa, of the station she now occupied.

"Marchioness of Rockingham, soon-to-be Duchess of Gloucester." She thought to herself, accepting a goblet of the finest claret wine from Eliza, as Joan soaped up her hair.

"Are you excited, my lady?" Anne Neville inquired, coming forward with a box of sweetmeats.

"Very much so, Lady Anne." Melissa smiled, picking one of the sugared treats out of the container.

"It all seems so grand." The girl murmured wistfully. "And he loves you, too!"

"Indeed," the red-head acquiesced. "I am very fortunate. And I pray that you will be as well, Lady Anne."

"God helping," the Earl of Warwick's younger daughter nodded. Melissa was still wary of her, but she was a sweet girl; not an enemy, as Elizabeth had assumed.

"Your sister, I am told, is to marry the Duke of Clarence." She spoke out loud.

"Yes, Izzy is very pleased." Anne nodded.

"Well, I look forward to attending their wedding in the future." She smiled.

George's wedding, in reality, would not be for at least a year. Edward's grandstanding celebrations considered, two of such scale would be a brunt on the treasury that they could not afford, especially since Margaret of Anjou and her son were still out there. The Nevilles had grumbled, but a year of waiting would be a small price to pay for Isabel to become the Duchess of Clarence.

"'Tis time to get dressed, my lady." Eliza informed the soon-to-be duchess a few minutes later.

Melissa smiled at her thankfully and nodded, standing from the bath and letting the blonde wrap her in a towel. They led her back to the bedchambers, where Richard's mother and sisters were standing, Melissa's own sisters behind them.

"Ladies," the red-head smiled.

"Melissa," Duchess Cecily stepped forward almost immediately. "Look at you, child. You are just glowing."