Delaney’s eyes widened in sudden excitement. She quickly set her own teacup down on the iron table. She stood up from her wicker chair, her heart beating fast.

"Bring it here, please," Delaney instructed the servants, pointing to an empty, clean space on the balcony floor.

The two footmen carefully carried the heavy trunk over. They set it down gently on the stone floor, making sure not to bump the edges. They bowed respectfully.

"Will that be all, my lady?" Mr. Benry asked.

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Benry," Delaney smiled. "That will be all for now."

The butler bowed once more. He signaled for the footmen to follow him. They all walked back inside the house, closing the glass doors quietly behind them to give the ladies absolute privacy.

Delaney was incredibly happy. She walked over to the wooden trunk. She kneeled down carefully on the stone floor. The wood of the trunk was old, dark, and polished, secured with heavy brass clasps.

Aunt Renee stood up from her chair and walked over to kneel beside her niece.

"Go on, my dear," Aunt Renee encouraged softly, placing a warm hand on Delaney’s shoulder. "Open it."

Delaney reached out with trembling fingers. She flipped the brass clasps upward. They opened with a solid, metallic click. She placed her hands under the wooden lid and pushed it up.

The trunk opened.

Immediately, the sweet, preserved scent of dried lavender, rose petals, and old cedarwood floated up into the fresh morning air.

Delaney looked inside and simply admired the beautiful contents.

The entire trunk was packed with the finest, most delicate things a lady could ever own. Everything was carefully wrapped in layers of thin, crisp white tissue paper to protect the fabrics from time and travel.

Delaney reached in and slowly peeled back the first layer of tissue paper.

Underneath were several incredibly beautiful, handmade silk nightgowns. They were pale cream and soft pink, decorated with tiny, perfect stitches and fine white lace. There were also sets of pure white bed linens, embroidered with the Kingsley family crest in silver thread.

"Your mother spent months sewing those linens before her own wedding," Aunt Renee explained, her voice thick with emotion. She reached out and touched the soft fabric. "She had the hands of an angel. Everything she made was perfect."

Delaney ran her fingers over the smooth silk. "They are beautiful, Aunt Renee. I will treasure them forever."

She carefully lifted the folded nightgowns and placed them gently onto the nearby wicker chair.

She peeled back the next thick layer of white tissue paper.

Delaney gasped softly.

Resting at the very bottom of the trunk was the wedding dress.

It was absolutely stunning. It was made of rich ivory silk that shimmered perfectly in the bright sunlight. Delaney reached both of her hands into the trunk. She grasped the thick fabric by the shoulders and carefully brought out the wedding dress.

She stood up slowly, letting the long, heavy skirts of the dress cascade down towards the stone floor.

The dress was a masterpiece. It had long, elegant sleeves made of sheer Brussels lace. The bodice was entirely covered in tiny, sewn seed pearls that caught the light like tiny drops of water. The neckline was modest but beautifully shaped, and the skirt was full and sweeping, designed to glide smoothly across a grand church floor.

Delaney held the dress up against her own body. She looked down at the ivory silk covering her simple morning dress.

"Oh, Delaney," Aunt Renee whispered. Tears immediately filled the older woman’s eyes. She brought her hands up to cover her mouth.

Aunt Renee looked at her niece, completely overcome with emotion.

"You look exactly like her," Aunt Renee cried softly, a happy, watery smile breaking across her face. "When Genevieve put that dress on, she looked like a queen. And now, you look just the same. It is as if twenty years have completely vanished."

Delaney felt her own eyes prickle with sudden, hot tears. She held the dress tighter against her chest. She could almost feel her mother’s warm presence wrapping around her like a soft hug.

"Do you really think so?" Delaney asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"I know so," Aunt Renee nodded firmly. She walked forward and gently adjusted the lace sleeves of the dress against Delaney’s arms.

"We will need to call a local seamstress to take the waist in just a little bit, for you are slightly smaller than she was. But the length is absolutely perfect."

Delaney smiled, imagining the day she would finally wear it.

She discussed with Renee about how she would look in the dress on her wedding day.

"Rowan said he wants a proper, grand wedding," Delaney spoke, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "He wants the church filled with light and joy. I think this dress will look perfect in a bright church."

Aunt Renee wiped a tear from her cheek and laughed softly.

"The Duke of Ford is not going to look at the church, my dear," Aunt Renee teased her gently. "When the doors open and he sees you walking down the aisle wearing this silk, he is not going to be able to breathe. He will look at you, and he will know he is the luckiest man in all of England."

Delaney laughed, a bright, happy sound that echoed across the stone balcony. She looked down at the pearl-covered bodice. She felt incredibly beautiful, incredibly loved, and incredibly ready to become his wife.

She turned slightly, wanting to lay the dress carefully across the other wicker chair so it would not wrinkle.

Just as she was moving, the glass doors to the balcony opened again.

Delaney stopped and turned her head.

Mr. Benry, the butler, stepped back out onto the balcony. His posture was perfectly straight, and his hands were folded neatly behind his back. His face held a very polite, highly professional expression.

He walked forward a few steps and stopped.

He bowed deeply to Delaney.

"Pardon the interruption once again, my lady," Mr. Benry spoke, his deep voice carrying clearly over the gentle morning breeze.

Delaney held the wedding dress against her body. She looked at the butler with a curious expression. "Yes, Mr. Benry? What is it?"

Mr. Harrison stood up straight. He looked directly at her.

"My Lady," Mr. Benry announced clearly, "you have a caller."