Rosemary Thorne's Arc

Chapter 19 of 24

Rosemary walked back from the gate and saw her reflection in the kitchen window. Curls loose. Apron stained with cream. Sunday was three days away and she had nothing to stand in but the dress she wore to market. The banns would be read to the whole village. Every eye that had watched her lie about a cousin would watch her walk in. She could not do it in an apron. Damien was splitting kindling in the yard. She did not tell him where she was going. She washed her face, put on her cleanest dress, and took the path to the village with the half-pendant in her pocket. It was the only thing of value she had left. The seamstress's door stood open to let in the light. Elara Threadwell sat by the window with a man's shirt across her lap, sewing a cuff. She was small and neat. Her hair was pinned in a bun. A measuring tape hung from her vest pocket. She looked up once at Rosemary and went back to her stitch. She had never spoken to Rosemary in the market. She had never spoken much to anyone. "I need a wedding dress by Saturday night," Rosemary said. "I know what I'm asking." Elara finished the stitch. She set the shirt down. "Sunday banns?" "Yes." "Three days." "Yes." Rosemary put the half-pendant on the table. The broken edge caught the light. "It's all I have. My mother's. The other half is spoken for." Elara looked at the pendant. She did not touch it. Her eyes went to Rosemary's face, then to her hands, then to the hem of the dress she was wearing. "Put that away," Elara said. Rosemary's throat closed. "Please. I can't stand up in front of them in this." "Put it away," Elara said again. She stood and went to a chest by the wall. She lifted the lid. Inside was folded cream linen, a length of white lace, and a bodice already cut and pinned. "I heard the banns yesterday. I started last night." Rosemary stared at her. Elara laid the pieces on the table beside the pendant. "You paid Mabel Crumb to tell a story for you and then you stood up and told the truth. My sister was married under a lie once. Nobody in this village helped her." She picked up the pendant and pressed it back into Rosemary's palm. "Stand on the stool. I need your measure." Rosemary stood on the stool. Elara worked around her with pins in her mouth and did not speak again for an hour. When Rosemary left, the sun was low and the bodice fit like a second skin. Saturday night the dress would be at her door. She walked home with the half-pendant still in her pocket. For the first time in a week, she had not spent something to buy her way forward.