“You both are splendid indeed,” Elizabeth said, moving closer to admire the horse. She did not say that she felt quite plain in comparison.
“You shall not appear as a woman come to beg for mercy, but as a lady come to grace her betrothed with her hand. It would be neither fitting nor strategic to appear otherwise.”
Amaury spoke formally, as if they were strangers.
“The finery is yours,” she had to note.
“And I am pledged to your service.” Amaury continued when she did not reply. “The splendor of a servant reflects upon the one he serves.”
Again, he was thinking of Calum’s reaction and she appreciated his impulse.
He gestured to Oliver, who combed his own hair hastily and strove to neaten his appearance.
“What happened to the caparisons?” she asked.
Amaury’s gaze flicked, a subtle h
