"Please, God," she whispered into the morning stillness.

Blanche Delano was as good as her word. She arrived soon after the breakfast tray that Candace had delivered to Felicity's room.

"Good Lord, girl, you're as white as a sheet!" Blanche exclaimed the instant she entered Felicity's room. "Lucky thing I brought along some rouge. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

"Rouge!" Felicity said, shocked to her core. "I couldn't paint my face!"

"Of course you could. Everyone does it," Blanche informed her blandly. "Is this your dress?" She paused a moment to examine the garment. Blanche herself was clothed in a stately gown of deepest burgundy crepon, a heavy, crinkled crepe fabric, and a matching velvet hat that tied primly beneath her chin.

"Did you make this all yourself?" Blanche asked, obviously impressed as she spread the intricate folds of the skirt.

"Candace helped," Felicity said. Candace had to help. Making such a dress in so brief a time was simply too big a job for one person.

"I can't wait to see how it looks on you," Blanche said. "But first we'll concentrate on fixing up that face of yours so folks won't think you're scared to death of poor ol' Joshua."

Felicity winced, but Blanche did not seem to notice. Between Blanche and Candace, they got her bathed and combed and curled and dressed by the time the first wagon-loads of guests began to arrive. Once again Felicity knew frustration as she tried to view herself in the small mirror over the washstand.

"You look like a picture in Godey's Lady's Book," Blanche decreed.

Felicity had never seen Godey's Lady's Book, but she knew she looked like a picture. She could hardly believe the lovely young woman staring back at her from the mirror was Felicity Storm. Blanche had insisted on trimming the hair around her face and crimping it with a curling iron until it formed a burnished halo around her head. The face she was accustomed to seeing looked different, too. Her eyes seemed to be larger and a deeper shade of blue, and her cheeks were unnaturally rosy, although Blanche's rouge could be blamed for that.

The dress itself was nothing short of magnificent. Encased in its crisp folds, Felicity felt like a princess. The bodice hugged her tiny waist and fit tightly over the small breasts that Blanche's skillful lacing of her corset had lifted to prominence. The yards and yards of skirt flared out and down, draped into a tidy bustle in the back. Felicity's collar and cuffs were trimmed in golden brown velvet, as soft as bunny fur, and velvet flounces edged her voluminous skirt.

Felicity touched one of the velvet-covered buttons that ran down the front of her bodice, recalling how she had covered them by lamplight, her head pounding from eyestrain as she and Candace raced the clock to have the dress ready in time. Now the effort seemed worthwhile. Felicity Storm might not deserve to marry a man like Mr. Logan, but at least today she would look as if she did.

Felicity spun happily to face Blanche, who beamed her approval. "Well now, do you need any last-minute wedding-night instructions, or has Joshua already taught you everything you need to know?" Blanche inquired with her usual frankness.

Felicity gaped at the older woman in horror and guilt, the scarlet in her face no longer the result of cosmetic enhancement. Felicity realized instantly that she had revealed her shame, that she should have pretended innocence instead, but it was too late for such subterfuge. Blanche knew the truth.

"I see," Blanche murmured to herself. "There now, don't look so worried. You won't get any lectures out of me. Here, sit down. I reckon there's still a few things you need to know." Blanche directed her to sit on the edge of the bed, helping her spread her skirts so they would not wrinkle. "And don't look so guilty. I doubt Joshua wasted much time talking you into it, or even getting your consent, for that matter."

"He didn't force me," Felicity said, answering some perverse need to defend her betrothed. "I didn't fight or scream." Felicity watched her hands twisting in her lap so she would not have to see Blanche's reaction to such an infamous confession.

"Of course not," Blanche said softly, gently patting Felicity's shoulder. "You probably wanted it, too."

This brought Felicity's face up, her startled blue eyes meeting Blanche's green ones. Instead of the condemnation she had expected, she saw only kindness.

"Listen, honey, you'll have to do worse than that to shock me. Maybe I should tell you about myself before you start feeling too guilty. I was born in a whorehouse." She did not seem to hear Felicity's gasp of horror. "I grew up there, and when I was fifteen, ray mother turned me out to whore, too. I'd been working in a dance house for a couple months, one of those places where they have cribs in the back. Do you know what a crib is?"

"A baby's bed," Felicity said innocently, her voice a fascinated whisper.

"It's also a small room with just a bed where a man can go with a woman for a quick… roll in the hay." Blanche gave her a self-mocking grin. "One night I was in one of the cribs with a man. He got nasty because I wouldn't… do something special that he wanted. He hit me a few times, and Sam Delano came busting in to see what the ruckus was all about. He'd never set eyes on me before that night, but when he saw how young I was, he took me out of that place."

"I don't guess he really had any plans about what to do with me. I think he might've wanted to adopt me or something, in the beginning. He was almost forty, and I wasn't sixteen yet. That first night he took me outside of town to where he was camped. He only had one set of blankets, so we slept together. I thought I knew what he wanted, but he just held me that first night. Then I got scared he'd send me away, so I seduced him. After that, adoption was out of the question, so we got married instead."

"If you think your wedding was a shock to people, you should have heard folks talk when Sam showed up here with me. I was a feisty little trollop who could swear a blue streak. It took him a while to tame me down and turn me into a lady… or as much of a lady as I'll ever be," she corrected with another grin.

Felicity was so stunned, she could barely speak. "Why did you tell me all that?" she wondered aloud, certain that Blanche would never have told another person such a story.

"So you'd understand," Blanche said, kneeling before her in a cloud of burgundy skirts. She took Felicity's hands gently in her own. "Sam tamed me, but he taught me how to love, too. I'd never loved another living soul until I met him. And he loved me, too, me, as bad as I was. Don't you see? If two people can fall in love the way Sam and I did, then you and Joshua can fall in love, too. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it's started already. Why do you think he took you to bed?" Her wise eyes glittered shrewdly, making Felicity look away.

Felicity wasn't certain if what she felt for Mr. Logan could be called love or not. More than likely, it was simply lust. But she did care about him in a very special way, and that might grow into love under the proper conditions. Of course, she knew Mr. Logan did not love her. He had told her so. "He just did that to make sure I'd marry him," she said.

"Felicity!" Blanche chastened. "A man doesn't buy the cow if he can get the milk for free! Think about it. He must have been pretty desperate for you to say 'yes' if he seduced you to get that 'yes'! He wants more than just a little roll in the hay. He wanted you for a wife, for always. Why do you suppose he went to such great lengths to make sure you had to marry him?"

Felicity had never considered this aspect. She voiced the first thought that came to her mind. "He wanted to get married, and I was handy."