The Life of Amelia Barnette

The Finest Silks Couldn't Hide My Fear.

There were four more days till my wedding and I still knew nothing. Minnie and Ida, my beautiful maids, couldn't find any information about this mysterious man. I didn't even know his name for goodness sake.

Mother had made me sit in the ballroom and help her arrange the seating charts. I knew that when she said 'help', it would mean sitting here bored out of my mind listening to her ramble on how pathetic my wedding will be, what a talk I'm going to be if I don't focus on my manners and sit straight. I don't know how slouching would cause such gossip but mother was evident that it would create such a stir in society. If I didn't hear the words 'society' one more time I might fly through the clouds. 

"Amelia, are you even listening? Girl, you have much more to learn in these last four days that there is no time to dally off in your head." 

I nodded towards my mother, my back automatically straightening at her words. The morning carried on as such, with dreaded tasks being completed one after the other occupying my mind until the lunch bell rang and mother led the way to the dining hall. We were presented with an assortment of sandwiches and fruits all expertly placed along the table. Halfway through eating a strawberry, one of the staff enter the room, bowing towards my mother and me.  

"Excuse, m'lady. There is a man here who is saying you are expecting him. His name is Harold Donaldson. The dressmaker."

Mother's teacup came to a halt, pausing mid-way towards her lips. 

"Tell him to wait in the dressing room. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Mother sipped at her cup, then placed it back on the saucer. I placed the half-eaten strawberry back onto my plate.

"The dressmaker, mother. What is he doing here?"

"Are you at all there in the brain, child? He is here to make your wedding gown. Now hurry along, we don't have all day."

"My wedding gown! Mother, we have less than four days till the wedding and you expect this man to be able to make me a whole gown!"

"Where is your respect for your mother, Amelia! Don't talk back to me. Mr Donaldson is a talented dressmaker and has assured me he can make the gown in time. Now go!"

Mother twirled out in an elegant canter towards the dressing room. I pushed my plate across the table and set my elbows along it, holding my face in my hands. This was all just too much in such little time. This last week I haven't been able to have any me time, not even time to sneak out and watch the ocean, marinate in its peacefulness. I was too drained to even stay up late. These early nights and busy mornings felt like they were going to make me burst.  

I pushed out my chair and hurried off down the hall to the dressing room. I could hear voices, my mothers and a much deeper one that bellowed through the room. Laughter echoed out as I opened the door. There stood mother in her earthy green dress shaking hands with a much older gentleman. This must be Mr Donaldson, the dressmaker. I had read articles about him in the local newspaper. He was very renowned. I wonder how mother hired his services in such little time. 

"Ah, Amelia. This is Harold Donaldson, the famous dressmaker from Oxford. Mr Donaldson, my beautiful daughter, Amelia."

I curtsied as Mr Donaldson bowed and then mother took me towards the rack of white silks that were set out for display. The dressmaker followed close behind. He was quite a tall man, somewhere in his late thirties, a strong brown beard growing along his face, small silver flecks sprinkled along the hairs. 

"As you can see, I have chosen only the finest silks to showcase you, m'lady. Any that stand out?"

I ran my fingers along the beautiful silks, knowing very well my mother had already chosen which one would grace my body. It was still nice to look at, and imagine one of the finest silks all across England being my wedding dress. I wonder where on earth mother and father got the money to afford such luxuries. I mean, we were well off, but not that well off. Wait, the marriage allowance. Sometimes I forgot I was sold off to be married. I snorted at my own comment, earning a confused glance from Mr Donaldson.

"Is there something funny about silks, Amelia?" My mother mocked, 

"No, mother, my apoligies." I stepped back from the rack, standing behind mother.

"I do believe we have made a decision, Mr Donaldson. We'll have the Mulberry silk. Now for a design, any suggestions?"

The dressmaker nodded and proceeded to pull out a sketchbook that had thousands of gorgeous gowns carefully drawn to perfection. Flipping to a page, he showed Mother and me,

"This one is quite fitting for your appearance, m'lady. The fitting would complement your face shape and is completing for a ladies figure while still remaining modest."

I gasped at seeing the sketched dress, its beautiful intricate designs and details were astonishing. 

"That is perfect, thank you, Mr Donaldson."

"It will look beautiful on your daughter, m'lady. Now, if I can get the measurements, I'll be on my way and get this dress made for you." 

I stood on the small pedestal and lifted my arms to the side as the dressmaker measured my body. I felt bear as he rapped the measuring tape around my waist, his finger brushing against my skirts. Inhaling sharply I begged for him to hurry and finish. I hadn't felt this heat before with a man in such close proximity and I needed it to stop. I couldn't have another episode in front of mother. Slowly unravelling the tape from my waist, tickling me slightly. My heart skipped a beat. I felt nothing for this man, for this dressmaker, but his touch. My goodness, I felt so touch-deprived at this very moment, all I wanted was more. To explore more. 

"I believe that is everything. Thank you, Miss Barnette, for your patience. I'll be off then, and will send you an update on my progress Mrs Barnette."

And with a quick bow, Mr William Donaldson was away, out the door and clomping down the hall. Shortly I heard his carriage trot away, leaving me standing here, more confused than I had ever been.