Marmalade's Love Potion

Chapter 17 Part 2 - Returning Home

Penelope spent the afternoon sharing her gown designs with the Sisters. Sister Rosin bounded about, making a show of her usual humour, teasing Steph about his pumpkin dress when he joined them sometime later.

Everyone laughed, giving good-natured input while Penelope sketched in their suggestions. Yet, the atmosphere felt strained. The laughter was a little forced, smiles a little too wide. Penelope noticed as the Sisters held hands a little more tightly than usual.

By nightfall, Penelope had finished the sketches for the Sisters' gowns, and began to plan her own.

She thought on her vision from Abel Whistleweather's shop, that shadowy apparition of dancing mist. Closing her eyes, Penelope sought to recall all the details she could, hazy and blurred though they were in her mind's eye.

Two dancing figures of swirling smoke, one dressed in a queenly gown. She remembered the sweeping silhouette of a layered waterfall skirt flaring like petals as she danced with her mystery partner. The sleeves had been long and form fitting, attached to a beaded bodice that had left the shoulders bare. A truly beautiful design.

Penelope opened her eyes, nibbling at her lower lip as she deliberated, charcoal tip poised above the thick paper of her sketchbook.

She glanced up at Steph, who had regained his good humour and was teasing Sister Heely as he helped her wrap bundles of garden herbs for drying. Sister Rosin darted about them, light-stepped and viper-quick as she pinched honeyed briar leaves from the stems while Sister Heely was distracted.

Steph caught Penelope's eye and grinned before snaking out a hand to wrest the butter-brown leaf from Sister Rosin's grip, shoving it into his mouth before she could snatch it back.

Penelope laughed at Sister Rosin's affronted gasp and looked back down at her book. Warmth pooled in her chest as her stomach fluttered.

With a deep breath and deliberate stokes, Penelope laid down bold lines of charcoal as she sketched her dress. Loose, translucent sleeves billowed outwards to meet cuffs of silver lace. The bodice was embroidered, not with fine beads, but with flowers and shining river stones. The skirt flared outwards, not in petalled layers, but in a striking flow of rippling silk embroidered with opalescent constellations.

With a final mark, Penelope looked over her sketch with satisfaction. She would attend the Ball in a gown that reflected who she was. Daughter of the forest. Child of the stars. A woman walking betwixt the two, treading the path of her own fate.

With a resolute nod, Penelope set aside her sketchbook to help make evening tea. Though not before pinching the leaf, another pilfered prize, from Steph's grasp as he held it behind his back, retreating from Sister Rosin's advance.

"Betrayal!" he cried, as Penelope giggled, enjoying the sugary snap of the winter treat on her tongue. Chaos erupted as they all chased each other around the kitchen table, and Penelope felt at home.

✧✧✧

The next morning, Sister Rosin prepared to take Steph back to Grimwood Village.

Penelope's chest ached as she lingered on the front porch, watching the ashen blue of dawn warm to pink as the sun rose.

Sister Rosin stomped about, chatting with Cynthia as she fixed the mare to their wagon. Carried on a chill breeze, the scents of ice and fragrant wood mingled with the sweet treacle of Cynthia's oats. Penelope shivered and drew her coat tighter about herself.

Steph leaned against a wooden beam by the front steps, watching Sister Rosin with a sad smile.

"Penelope... before I leave, I need to tell you something." Steph snapped his gaze to hers and she stepped closer. Anxiety, sadness, and fluttery nerves twisted in her stomach, feelings that were mirrored in Steph's eyes.