The London convention center was bustling with activity. Every single wedding gown designer from all over the country was at that particular location to show off their newest designs in hopes that a bride would choose their creation. It was the beginning of November, and snow was piling all over the ground.
Each designer was hopeful, but no one was more hopeful than 21-year-old Felicity Parker. She had moved from San Francisco to London to get a fresh start on her life and her wedding dress designs. The designing colleagues that she'd had in San Francisco weren't on board with her simplistic yet beautiful design of elegance. They wanted the strapless, low-cut, backless and sexy styles for brides to have. But she didn't want that. She wanted the brides to be comfortable in what they were wearing, to be classy and sophisticated.
Pushing her blonde hair out of her blue eyes, Felicity glanced at her three manikins that had her three simplistic but beautiful wedding gown designs. Her trademark was a single strand of pearls. One wedding gown had pearls going along the neckline and across the shoulders. Another wedding gown had pearls for a belt. The third wedding gown had pearls along the bottom of the skirt. All three ensembles had pearls decorating the end of the quarter length or full length sleeves. The neck lines were modest, not showing any cleavage. All of them were composed of lace. And another trademark was the train. The train of each gown stretched about 6 feet behind them, so that the bride in whichever gown she chose would be able to dance freely without having to hold up her train.
Felicity was proud of her work, having gone to a prestigious fashion designing school in San Francisco straight out of high school, and had graduated not one year prior with a major in fashion design. When she had first started working in San Francisco, she thought that her fellow designers would love her ensembles. But she was wrong. Some of them thought that her creations were too simple. One person in particular, a fellow rival of hers who wanted things to be sexy, Jackson Matthews, hated her work. He wanted her to be in style of everyone else. To have the things that women wanted to wear, not what they should.
Furious with Jackson's complaints, and lack of support, Felicity had quit the San Francisco designing company and had moved to London six months prior. It had been hard to leave her parents, but Felix and Chloe had been very supportive of their only daughter, wanting her to live the life that she wanted to. Now, away from Jackson's uncomfortable and unforgivable critiques, Felicity's wedding creations were flourishing. She had sold numerous ensembles to ladies of nobility, all of them loving her work, stating that they had never seen a wedding gown more beautiful than her own.
Smiling to herself, Felicity began to arrange the stack of papers in front of her on a small white table, each paper consisting of the particular dress and style that the bride would like to purchase. Plus the prices. All she had to do now was wait for her first customer.
Lord Edward Middleton had no idea why he was at the London convention center. He was supposed to meet Arthur Hemsworth and Charles Davison for a game, wanting to beat them at poker once again. But alas, he was not. He'd tried to get out of it, but didn't want to upset his sister.
Edward. Charlotte, my dear sister, why exactly did you drag me to come wedding dress shopping with you? Not that I don't mind, but don't you think our mother should've come with you instead?
Charlotte. My dear brother, I told you, you have to meet the designer! She has been all over the papers! Everyone says that her gowns are the most gorgeous! Much more so than others that I have seen and tried on. And besides, mother and father are making last-minute wedding preparations for me. I still have the cake to order, so father said that he would do that. Mother said that she would help with the flowers. So that leaves you to come and help me pick.
YOU ARE READING
Christmas secrets: the American and the English lord (completed)Historical Fiction
Cover not mine. Story is mine. England, 1997. From the very first moment they lay eyes on one another, 27-year-old Edward Middleton and 21-year-old Felicity Parker feel an instant and powerful connection between them. Edward feels as if he is going...