He wanted it to be special.
There were quite a few dresses strung up on the rope and there were a few women looking at them. Isalyn was still attached to his arm but he pulled her hand from his elbow and clutched her fingers tightly as he walked from one end of the display to the other.
As he walked, he visually inspected every garment. Some of them were quite spectacular, while others were simple and durable. They were loosely basted, with no hem on the bottom, so they were essentially an unfinished product. He swept the line of dresses twice and was considering a pale blue silk when Gilbert suddenly appeared with his majordomo, both of them carrying garments from the rear of the stall.
“I have been saving this one for someone who could afford it,” Gilbert said, holding up the dress. “This is a fine and expensive dress, all the way from Venice. The fabric is called nacrè. It is made from two different colors of silk, in this case blue and pink, to give the fabric an iridescent look, like a butterfly’s wing.”
When Tor heard Isalyn gasp at the sight, he knew he’d found the dress. It was a truly spectacular piece – figure-hugging, with embroidered seed pearls along the neckline and down the sleeves, which were split from mid-arm and trailed well past the hands. The combination of the two colors gave the fabric a lavender color, truly something spectacular to behold.
The majordomo had the matching shift, which he held up for Tor’s inspection. It was white, made from silk, and both sleeves were covered with the same seed pearls that were around the neck. When worn with the dress, the shift sleeves would peek out from the split silk sleeves of the gown.
It was a dress made for a queen.
“How much is it?” Tor asked.
Gilbert looked at the dress. “For a garment this rare?” he said. “Very expensive. One hundred and twenty pounds.”
“I will take it,” Tor said without missing a beat. “She will need slippers to match. Do you have them?”
“Of course,” Gilbert said. “I will send her with my majordomo to select everything she needs.”
“Good,” Tor said. “But first, let me look at your rings.”
Gilbert was motioning them to follow and Tor still had Isalyn tightly by the hand because, at this point, she was content to be led around. Tor was the man with a plan and she was happy to let him carry it out. As they followed Gilbert to the rear of the stall, Tor turned to look at her, receiving a sweet smile for his effort. There was something in the air between them, now more powerful than ever before. He smiled in return just as Gilbert reached his destination.
It looked like an enormous wardrobe, but when he opened it, it was full of treasures. In fact, there was an armed guard standing in the shadows nearby, positioned to protect the contents. Gilbert didn’t even let Tor look through his stock because he had something in mind right away.
“There is something here I want you to see,” he said, looking through the boxes. “Unless it has been sold, but I do not think so. It is rather unique and… here it is!”
He pulled forth a big, teardrop-shaped garnet set in dark yellow gold and handed it to Tor, who studied it carefully. Isalyn was looking over his shoulder, thinking that it was quite lovely but also quite big. She had never envisioned herself wearing a boulder-sized gem on her finger, but she didn’t want to spoil Tor’s fun. If he wanted her to have it, then she would wear it happily.
But that wasn’t the end of it. Gilbert pulled out another ring and held it up to the light.
“I am glad we’ve not sold this one, either,” he said. “The color of the gold is similar to the garnet’s setting, but this ring is very, very old. I got it from a man in Brampton whose family has owned their lands for centuries. The story I was told was that the man’s great-grandfather, many times over, had found this in the remains of an old Roman house on their property, and the man brought it to me to trade for some goods he needed. It is solid gold and there is an inscription on the inside of the ring.”
Tor took it from him, peering closely at it. It was a thin, dark gold band. There wasn’t anything spectacular about it, but he could see the faint outlines of flowers etched into the surface. The more he looked at it, the more he saw a delicate woman’s ring. When Gilbert mentioned the inscription, he looked on the inside, barely making out the faded Roman letters.
“Libet te,” he said softly. “I choose thee.”
“Exactly,” Gilbert said, beaming. “I thought you might like to give it to my daughter, since you did choose her.”
Tor gave him a half-grin, looking at Isalyn to see that she was utterly enchanted by the ring and the inscription. Lifting her hand, he slid it over the third finger on her left hand.
It fit perfectly.
“The Romans believed that a wedding ring should be worn on the third finger of the left hand because there is a vein that goes directly to the heart,” Tor said softly. “Whether or not that is true, I do not know, but I remember reading that long ago. This is where it belongs.”
Isalyn held up the beautiful ring, watching it gleam in the light. She, too, could see the worn etching, but instead of an old ring with faded flowers, she saw something strong and timeless and romantic.
“I wonder who this belonged to,” she said softly. “Whoever it was, her husband must have loved her very much.”
Tor was smiling at her expression. That bold, reckless woman he’d first met was a poet and a romantic at heart. He should have known, given the fact that she wrote dramas, but he could see it written with naked abandon all over her face.
“I am certain of it,” he said quietly. “Do you like it?”
She nodded eagerly. “I love it.”
“And the garnet.”
She looked at it, still in Tor’s fingers. “I would rather have this simple ring than all the jewels in the world,” she said. “This ring has lasted for centuries, and now it is to be upon my hand. It has endured, as marriage should. As love should. If you are agreeable, I’ll have this one.”
Tor could see that she meant it. Lifting her hand, he kissed the ring upon it before turning to Gilbert and handing him back the garnet.
“Just this one,” he said. “The lady has spoken.”
Gilbert shrugged and put it back in the box, but he immediately dug into another box and pulled forth a delicate necklace of small, perfect pearls.
“This is a gift from me to my daughter,” he said. “It goes well with the dress.”
Tor inspected it, agreeing to accept the gift without even consulting Isalyn. Gilbert, an excellent salesman, also talked Tor into a heavy golden cross with pearls on it and a big, golden chain. He bought that one and didn’t even ask about the price, which turned out to be a tidy sum. In all, Tor was going to be out a small fortune, but he didn’t care in the least.
They weren’t even finished shopping yet.
With the ring still on her finger, Isalyn went about gathering the rest of the things she needed for her wedding dress even as Gilbert tried to talk Tor into purchasing half his stall. Combs, hose, slippers made in The Levant, hair pins… Gilbert walked Tor through all of them, insisting that a lady needed such things, while Tor kept an eye on Isalyn halfway across the stall. Every once in a while, he’d see her roll her eyes at her father’s sales pitch.