Chapter Twelve
TERESA LOOKED IN the mirror on her wedding morning and thought again how plain she looked.
Surely, part of the problem was her dress. The dark blue made her skin seem unnaturally sallow and her hair lose its natural brilliance. And, although the dress was cut low enough to show a bit of her bosom, the dark hue effectively concealed the rest of her slender curves.
Her mother, overseeing the dressing of her hair, had insisted upon it being pulled up into a tight knot at the top of her head. A few wisps of hair had been allowed to frame her face, and took away some of the starkness. They curled into lovely ringlets.
Even at this time of the morning, the heavy silk of her dress was a trifle too warm, and Teresa felt herself begin to perspire—though, she admitted ruefully, t
